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-.RBAT.TV.E OF THE ADVENIUEES OF A
.riTJlDRS .FA;!k£lLY IK CANADA.

JOHN 0. GEIKTIE,

)
1

i^Hh ^ItwgfvTfrk-^^.

LOHDON:
il.fc:i'uE, WAENE. AND KOOT

FARRINGDON STHEET.
NBVV YOfilv : 56, WALKEE t;TIl£E1 -

1864

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GEOKGE STANLEY:

OB.

lift in i\t Maah.

A BOY'S NABRATIYE OF THE ADYENTUBES OF A
SETTLEB'S FAMILY IN CANADA.

EDITED BT

JOHN C. GEIKIE.

l.Vli

X0tl9t

LONDON:
EOUTLEDGE, WAENE, AND EOUTLEDGE,

FABBINGDON 8TBBET.
IITEW YOKE : 66, WALEEB STREET.

1864

BIBLIOTKeCA

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30fc7-3

CONTENTS.

CHAPTEE I.

Boy-dreanu about travelling — Our family determines to go to^
Canada — ^The first day on board — Cure for sea-sicknessT—
Our passengers — Henry's adventure — We encounter a
storm — Height of the waves — ^The bottom of the ocean —
A fossil ship — ^The fishing'grounds — See whales and ice-
bergs — Porpoises — Sea-birds — Lights in the sea — ^The great
Gulf of St. Lawrence— Thick ice*fog8 — See land at last —
Sailing up the river — Land at Quebec . . . pp. 1 — 17

CHAPTER 11.

Quebec — Wolfe — Montcalm's skull — Toronto — We set oflE
for the bush — Mud-roads — A rough ride— Our log-housfr—
How it was built — Our bam — We get oxen and cows-
Elephant and Buckeye — Unpacking our stores — ^What some
of our neighbours brought when they came — Hot days —
Bush costumes — Sun-strokes — My sisters have to turn
salamanders — Our part of the house-work . . pp. 18 — 40

CHAPTER m.

Clearing the land — David's bragging, and the end of it-*
Burning the log-heaps— Our logging bee — What prejudice
can do — Our fences and crops nearly burned — ^The woods
on fire — Building a snake- fence— "Shingle" pigs give us
sore trouble — " Breachy" horses and cattle . pp. 41 — 67

3
1

.,:(,:

: rM

Contents.

CHAPTER IV.

We begin our preparations for sowing — Gadflies — Mosquitoes
— Harrowing experiences — A huge fly — Sandflies — The
poison of insects and serpents — Winter wheat — The
wonders of plant-life — Our first "sport" — Woodpeckers —
<*Chitmunks"— The blue jay— The blue bird— The flight
of birds pp. 68— 74

CHAPTER V.

^me family changes — Amusements — Cow-hunting — Our
"side-line" — ^The bush — Adventures with rattlesnakes —
Garter-snakes — ^A frog's flight for life — Black squirrels

pp. 76—89

CHAPTER VI.

Spearing fish — Ancient British canoes — Indian ones — A
bargain with an Indian — Henry^s cold bath — Canadian
thunderstorms — Poor Yorick's death — Our glorious au-
tumns — ^The change of the leaf — Sunsets — Indian summer
— ^The fall rains and the roads — ^The first snow — Canadian
cold — A winter landscape — "Ice-storms" — Snow crystals
—The minute perfection of God's works — Deer-shooting —
David's misfortune — Useless cruelty — Shedding of the
stag's horns pp. 90—127

CHAPTER VII.

Wolves — My adventure with a bear — Courtenay's cow and
the wolves — A finght in the woods by night — The river
freezes — Our winter fires — Cold, cold, cold! — A winter's
journey — Sleighing — ^Winter mufflings — Accidents through
intense cold pp. 128—142

Contents,

CHAPTER VIII.

The aurora borealii — "Jumpers" — Squaring timber — Rafts
— Camping out — A public meeting — Winter fasliions — My
toe frozen — A long winter's wallt — Hospitality — Nearly
lost in the woods pp. 143 — 158

CHAPTER IX.

Involuntary racing — A backwoods parsonage — Graves in tlio
wilderness — Notions of equality — Arctic winters— Ruffed
grouse — Indian fishing in winter — A marriage — Our
winWs pork pp. 169 — 17

CHAPTER X.

Our neighbours — Insect plagues — Military officers' families in

the bush — An awkward mistake — Dr. D nearly shot

for a bear — Major M — Our candles — Fortunate

escape from a fatal accident pp. 171 — 181

)
1

r ^i;^

CHAPTER XL

"Now Spring returns'*— Sugar-making — Bush psalmody —
Bush preaching — "Worship under difficulties — A clerical
Mrs. Partington — Biology — A ghost — "It slips good" —
Squatters . . ^ pp. 182—196

' !.- ;

i:li

CHAPTER XII.

Bush magistrates — Indian forest guides — Senses quickened
by necessity — Breaking up of the ice — Depth of the
frost— A grave in winter — ^A ball — A holiday coat

pp. 197—207

Contents,

CHAPTER XIII.

Willi leeks — Spring birds— Wilson's poem on the blue bird
— Downy woodpeckers — Passenger pigeons — Their num-
bers — Roosting iilaces — The frogs — Bull frogs — Tree
frogs— Flying squirrels pp. 208—220

CHAPTER XIV.

Our spring crops — Indian com — Pumpkins — Melons — Fruits
—Wild Flowers pp. 221—227

CHAPTER XV. '

The Iniliana— Wigwams — Dress — Can the Indians be
civilized ? — Their past decay as a race — Alleged innocence
of savage life— Narrative of Father Jogues, the Jesuit
missionary pp. 228 — 260

CHAPTER XVI.

The medicine-man — Painted faces — Medals — An embassy —
Peligious notions — Feast of the dead — Christian Indians —
Visit to the Indians on Lake Huron — Stolidity of the
Indians — Henry exorcises an Indian rifle . pp. 261 — 279

CHAPTER XVII.

The humming-bird — Story of a pet — Canada a good country
for poor men — A bush story of misfortune — Statute
labour — Tortoises — The hay season — Our waggon 'driying
— Henry and I are nearly drowned — Henry falls ill — Back-
wood doctors pp. 280 — 298

Contenta.

VII

CHAPTER XVIII.

American men and women — FireflicB— Profusion of insect
life — Gnwshoppers— Frederick and David leave Canada —
Soap-making — Home-made candles — Reciiie for washing
quickly — Writing letters — The parson for driver

pp. 299—313

CHAPTER XIX.

Americanisms — Our poultry — The wasps — Their nests —
"Bob's" skill in killing them — Racoons — A hunt — Racoon
cake — The town of Busaco — Summer "sailing" — Boy
drowned — French settlers pp. 814 — 327

CHAPTER XX.

Apple-bees — Orchards — Gorgeous display of apple-blossom —
A meeting in the woods — The ague — Wild parsnips — Man
lost in the woods pp. 328—840

CHAPTER XXI.

|A tornado — Bats — Deserted lots — American inquisitiveneps
—An election agent pp. 341 — 349

CHAPTER XXII.

journey to Niagara — River St. Clair — Detroit — A slave's
escape — An American steamer — Description of the Falls
of Niagara — Fearful catastrophe . . • . pp. 350— 366

CHAPTER XXin.

le suspension-bridge at Niagara — The whirlpool — The
battle of Lundy's Lane — Brock's monument — A soldier
nearly drowned pp. 367 — 374

VUl

Contents,

CHAPTER XXrV.

The Canadian lakes — ^The exile's love of home — ^The coloured
people in Canada — Bice — The Maid of the Mist — Home-
spun cloth— A narrow road — A grumbler — New England
emigrants — A potato-pit — The winter's wood

pp. 876—390

CHAPTER XXV.

Thoughts for the future — Changes — ^Too-hard study — Educa-
tion in Canada — Christmas markets — Winter amusements
— Ice-boats — Very cold ice — Oil-springs — Changes on the
farm — Growth of Canada — ^The American climate — Old
England again 391—408

ERRATUM.

On page 8, twelfth and thirteenth lines, for ** twenty-five,
or, at most, thirty," read, "thirty-five, or, at most, forty,"
feet, as the height of Atlantic storm-waves.

lit

LIFE IN THE WOODS.

CHAPTER I.

Boy- dreams about travelling — Our family determines to go to
Canada — The first day on board — Cure for sea-sickness —
Our passengers — Henry's adventure — We encounter a
stoiin — Height of the waves — The bottom of the ocean —
A fossil ship — The iBshing-grounds — See whales and ice-
bergs — Porpoises — Sea-birds — Lights in the sea — ^The great
Gulf of St. Lawrence— Thick ice-fogs — See land at last —
Sailing up the river — Land at Quebec.

i I WONDER if ever tliere were a boy who did not wish
to travel? I know I did, and used to spend many
I an hour thinking of all the wonderful things I should
j see, and of what I would bring home when I returned.
Books of travel I devoured greedily — and very good
reading for boys, as well as for grown men, I have
always thought them. I began with "Robinson
ICrusoe," like most boys — for who has not read his
Istory? Burckhardt, the traveller, found a young
[Arab reading a translation of it in the door of his
[father's tent in the desert. But I don't think I ever
Iwished to be like him, or to roam in a wild ro-
jmantic way, or " go to sea," as it is called, like many

j 1

2 Boy-dreams about Travelling,

other boys I have known, which is a very different
thing from having harmless fancies, that one would
like to see strange races of men and strange countries.
Some of my schoolmates, whom nothing would con-
tent but being sailoio, early cured me of any thought
of being one, if ever I had it, by what I knew of
their story when they came back. One of them,
James Roper, I did not see for some years after he
went off, but when I met him at last among the
ships, he was so worn and broken down I hardly
knew him again, and he had got so many of the low
forecastle ways about him, that I could not bear his
company. Another, Robert Simpson, went one
voyage to Trebizond, but that cured him. He came
back perfectly contented to stay at home, as he had
found the romance of sailoring, which had lured him
away, a very different thing from the reality. He
had never counted on being turned out of his bed
every other night or so for something or other, as he
was, or being clouted with a wet swab by some sulky
fellow, or having to fetch and carry for the men, and
do their bidding, or to climb wet rigging in stormy
weather, and get drenched every now and then, with-
out any chance of changing his clothes ; not to speak
of the difference between his nice room at home and
the close, crowded, low-roofed forecastle, where he
could hardly see for tobacco-smoke, and where he
had to eat and sleep with companions whom he would
not have thought of speaking to before he sailed. He

The First Bay on Board, 8

came back quite sobered down, and, after a time,
went to study law, and is now a barrister in good
practice.

Yet I was very glad when I learned that we were
going to America. The great woods, and the sport
I would have with the deer and bears in them, and
the Indians, of whom I had read so often, and the
curious wildness there was in the thought of settling
where there were so few people, and living so differ-
ently from anything I had known at home, quite
captivated me. I was glad when the day of sailing
came, and went on board our ship, the Ocean King^
with as much delight as if I had been going on a
holiday trip. There were eight of us altogether —
five brothers and three sisters (my father and mother
were both dead), and I had already one brother in
America, while another stayed behind to push his
way in England. The anchor once heaved, we were
soon on our way down the Mersey, and the night fell
on us while we were still exploring the wonders of
the ship, and taking an occasional peep over the side
at the shore. When we had got into the channel,
the wind having come round to the south-east, the
captain resolved to go by the northern route, passing
the upper end of Ireland. All we saw of it, however,
was very little; indeed, most of us did not see it at
[all, for the first swell of the sea had sent a good many
to their berths, in all stages of sickness. One old
gentleman, a Scotchman, who had been boasting that

B 2

)
1

. ■ ; 1 -i

4 Cure for Sea sickness,

he had a preventive that would keep him clear of it,
made us all laugh by his groans and wretchedness ;
for his specific had not only failed, but had set him
off amongst the first. He had been told that if he
took enough gingerbread and whisky, he might face
any sea, and he had followed the advice faithfully;
but as the whisky itself was fit to make him sick,
even on shore, you may judge how much it and the
gingerbread together helped him when the ship was
heaving and rolling under his feet. We boys did not
fail, of course, when we heard him lamenting that either
the one or the other had crossed his lips, to come over
their names pretty often in his hearing, and advise
each other to try some, every mention of the words
bringing out an additional shudder of disgust from
the imfortunate sufferer. My eldest sister had sent
me, just before coming on board, for some laudanum
and mustard, which she was to mix and apply some
way that was sure, she said, to keep her well ; but
she got sick so instantly on the ship beginning to
move that she forgot them, and we had the mustard
afterwards at dinner in America, and the laudanum
was a long time in the house for medicine. For
a few days everything was unpleasant enough, but
gradually all got right again, and even the ladies
ventured to reappear on deck.

Of course, among a number of people gathered in
a ship, you were sure to meet strange characters. A
little light man in a wig was soon the butt of the cabin,

Our Passengers, 5

he would ask such silly questions, and say pnch out-
rageous things. He was taking cheeses, and tea, and
I don't know what else, to America with him, for
fear he would get nothing to eat there ; and he was
dreadfully alarmed by one of the passengers, who had
been over before, telling him he would find cockroach
pie the chief dainty in Canada. I believe the cheeses
he had with him had come firom America at first.
He thought the best thing to make money by in
Canada was to sow all the country with mustard-
seed, it yielded such a great crop, he said ; and he
seemed astonished at all the table laughing at the
thought of what could possibly be done with it.
There was another person in the cabin — a stiff, con-
ceited man, with a very strange head, the whole face
and brow running back from the chin, and great
standing-out ears. He was a distant relation of some
admiral, I believe ; but if he had been the admiral
himself, he could not have carried his head higher
than he did. Nobody was good enough for him. It
seemed a condescension in him to talk with any one.
But he soon lost all his greatness, notwithstanding
his airs, by his asking one day, when we were speak-
ing about Italy, " What river it was that ran north
and south along the coast?" in that country. We
were speaking of a road, and he thought it was about
a river. Then he asked, the same day, where the
Danube was, and if it were a large river ; and when
some one spoke about Sicily, and said that it had

)

6 Henry's Adventure.

been held by the Carthaginians, he wished to know
if these people held it now. Boy as I was, I could
not help seeing what a dreadful thing it was to
be so ignorant ; and I determined that I would

never be like Mr. (I sha'n't tell his name),

at any rate, but would learn as much as ever I
could. . .

I daresay we were troublesome enough to the
captain sometimes, but, if so, he took his revenge
on one of ua after a time. One day we were play-
ing with a rope and pulley which was hooked high
up in the rigging. There was a large loop at the!
one end, and the other, after passing through the
block, hung down on the deck. Henry had just put
this loop over his shoulders and fitted it nicely below
his arms, when the captain chanced to see him, and,
in an instant, before he knew what he was going to
do, he had hauled him up ever so high, with all the
passengers looking at him and laughing at the ridi-
culous figure he cut. It was some time before he
would let him down, and as he was a pretty big lad,
and thought himself almost a man, he felt terribly
affronted. But he had nothing for it when he got
down but to hide in his berth till his pride got
cooled and till the laugh stopped. We were all
careful enough to keep out of Captain Morrison's
way after that. -

One way or other the days passed very pleasantly
to us boys, whatever they were to older people. It

We encounter a Storm, %

was beautiful when the "weather was fine and the
wind right, to see how we glided through the green
galleries of the sea, which rose, crested with white,
at each side. One day and night we had, what we
thought, a great storm. The sails were nearly all
struck, and I heard the mate say that the two that
were left did more harm than good, because they
only drove the ship deeper into the water. When
it grew nearly dark, I crept up the cabin-stairs to
look along the deck at the waves ahead. I could see
them rising like great black moimtains seamed with
snow, and coming with an awful motion towards us,
making the ship climb a huge hill, as it were, the
one moment, and go down so steeply the next, that
you could not help being afraid that it was sinking
bodily into the depths of the sea. The wind, mean-
while, roared through the ropes and yards, and every
little while there was a hollow thump of some wave
against the bows, followed by the rush of water over
the bulwarks. I had read the account of the storm
in Virgil, and am sure he must have seen something
like what I saw that night to have written it. There
is an ode in Horace to him when he was on the
point of setting out on a voyage. Perhaps he saw
it then. The description in the Bible is, however,
the grandest picture of a storm at sea: " The Lord
commandeth, and raiseth the stormy wind, which
lifteth up the waves of the deep. They mount up
to heaven, they go down again to the depths: their

)
1

1 ; if

'\ .:!i

:M1^

8 Height of the Waves,

soul is melted because of trouble. They reel to and
fro and stagger like a drunken man, and are at their
wit's end." " The Lord hath His way in the whirl-
wind and in the storm, and the clouds are the
dust of His feet." Yet I have found since, that
though the waves appear so very high, they are
much lower than we suppose, our notions of them
being taken from looking up at them from the hol-
low between two. Dr. Scoresby, a great authority,
measured those of the Atlantic in different weathers,
and found that they seldom rise above fifteen feet, a
great storm only causing them to rise to t¥Faafy-five, '
or, at most, *hwty, which is very diiferent from
" running mountains high," as we often hear said.
I could not help pitying the men who had to go
up to the yards and rigging in the terrible wind
and rain, with the ship heaving and rolling so dread-
fully, and work with the icy cold sheets and ropes.
Poor fellows ! it seems a wonder how they ever can
hold on. Indeed, they too often lose their hold, and
then there is no hope for them; down they go,
splash into the wild sea, with such a scream of agony
as no one can ever forget after having heard it. My
brother, on crossing some years after, saw a man
thus lost — a fine, healthy Orkneyman, whom some
sudden lurch of the ship threw from the outside ot
the yard. Though it was broad daylight, and though
they would have done anything to help him as they
saw him rising on the wave, farther and farther

The Bottom of the Ocean 9

behind them, swimming bravely, they were perfectly
unable even to make an effort, the sea rolling so
wildly, and the ship tearing on through the waves
so swiftly. So they had, with hearts like to break,
to let him drown before their very eyes.

As we got further over we heard a great deal
about the Banks of Newfoundland, and, natu-
rally enough, thought the shores of that island
were what was meant; but we found, when we
reached them, that it was only the name given to the
shallower part of the sea to the south of the coast.
The soundings for the electric telegraph have since
shown that from Ireland on the one side, and New-
foundland on the other, a level table-land forms the
floor of the ocean, at no great depth, for some
hundreds of miles, the space between sinking sud-
denly on both sides into unfathomable abysses.
What the depth of the Atlantic is at the deepest is
not known, but I remember seeing a notice of a
surveying ship, which had been able to sink a line in
the southern section of it to the wonderful depth of
seven miles, finding the bottom only with that great
length of rope. The banks are, no doubt, formed in
part from the material carried by the great ocean
current which flows up from the Gulf of Mexico,
washing the shores all the way ; and then, passing
Newfoundland, reaches across even to the most
northern parts of Europe and the Arctic circle. Ii
the quantity of mud, and gravel, and sand deposited

• i , h

X'^%

10 A Fossil Ship,

on the Banks be great enough to bury some of the
many wrecks of all sizes which go to the bottom
there, what a wonderful sight some future ages may
have 1 The floor of the ocean has often, elsewhere,
been gradually or suddenly raised into dry land ; and
if the Banks should be so, and the wrecks be buried
in them before they had rotted away, geologists of
those days will perhaps be laying bare in some
quarry, now far down in the sea, the outline of a
fossil ship, with all the things it had in it when it
was lost!

We met a great many fishing-boats in this part, .
some from Newfoundland, some from Nova Scotia,
others, again, from the northern coasts of the United
States, with not a few all the way from France.
We were becalmed one day close to some from the
Stat3 of Maine, and one of them very soon sent off a
boat to us with some as fine looking men in it as you
could well see, to barter fish with the captain for
some pork. For a piece or two of the sailor's mess-
pork, which I thought dreadful-looking, it was so
yellow and fat, they threw on board quite a number
of cod-fish and some haddocks, giving us, I thought,
by far the best of the exchange. I am told that a
great many of these fishing-vessels are lost every
year by storms, and occasionally some are run down
and sunk in a moment by a ship passing over
them. They are so rash as to neglect hanging
out lights in many cases, and the weather is, more-

The Fishing-grounds, 11

over, often so very foggy, that, even when they do, it
is impossible to see them. The ships, if going at all
fast, sound fog-horns every now and then on such
days — that is, they should do it — but I fear they
sometimes forget. There is far less humanity in
some people than one would like to see, even the
chance of causing death itself seeming to give them
no concern. I remember once going in a steamer up
the Bay of Fundy, over part of the same ground,
when we struck a fishing-schooner in the dead of the
night ; but the captain only swore at it for being in
his way, and never stopped to see if it were much
injured or not, though, for anything he or any one
knew, it might be in a sinking state. Whether it
be thoughtlessness or passion at the time, or stony
hardheartedness, it is an awful thing to be unkind.
Uncle Toby, who put the fly out of the window
rather than kill it, makes us love him for his ten-
derness even in an instance so slight.

One day we saw two whales at a short distance from
the ship, but their huge black backs, and the spout
of water they made from their breathing-holes when
they were taking a fresh breath, was all we saw of
them. Some of the youngsters, however, made some
sport out of the sight by telling a poor simple woman,
who had got into the cabin, how they had read of a
ship that once struck on a great black island in the
middle of the sea and went down, and how the
sailors got off on the rock, and landed their pro-

•II

] 2 See Whales and Icebergs,

visions, and were making themselves comfortable,
when one of them unfortimately thought he would
kindle a fire to cook something ; but had hardly done
it before they discovered that they had got on the
back of a sleeping whale, which no sooner felt the
heat burning it than it plunged down into the waves
with all on it! It is a part of one of the boy's
stories we have all read, but the poor creature
believed it, listening to them with her eyes fixed on
their laces, and expressing her pity for the sailors
who had made the mistake.

We had two or three icebergs in sight when near'
Newfoundland, and very beautiful they were. Only
think of great mountains of ice shining in the sun
with every colour that light can give, and cascades
of snowy- white water leaping down their sides into
the sea. Those we saw were perhaps from eighty to
a hundred feet high, but they are sometimes even
two hundred; and as there are eight feet of ice
below the water lor every one above, this would
make a two hunded feet iceberg more than the third
of a mile from the bottom to the top. They are
formed on the shores of the icy seas in the north, by
the alternate melting and freezing of the edge ot
those ice-rivers which we call glaciers, which get
thrust out from the land till they are undermined by
the sea, and cracked by summer thaws, and then
tumble into the waters, to find their way wherever
the currents may carry them. Dr. Kane and Captain

arrows, as

Icebergs, 13

M*Clintock both saw them in the different stages ot
their growth ; and I don't know a more interoating
narrative tlian that of the ascent to the top of the
great frozen stream, on the shore of Washirigton\s
Land, by the tormer, and his looking away to the
north, east, and south, over the vast, broken, many-
coloured continent of ice, which stretches in awful
depth and unbroken continuity over Greenland. The
icebergs often carry off from the shore a vast quan-
tity of stones and gravel, which gets frozen into
them. Dr. Scoresby says he has seen one of them
carrying, he should think, from fifty to a hundred
thousand tons of rock on it. It has, no doubt, been
in this way that most of the great blocks and boulders
of stone, difierent from any in their neighbourhood,
which lie scattered over many parts of the world,
have been taken to their present places.*

I must not forget the porpoises — ^great pig-like
fish, which once or twice mocked us by racing
alongside, darting a-head every now and then like
arrows, as if to show us how slow wj were in com-
parison — nor the birds, which never left us the
whole way, and must sleep on the water when they
do sleep— nor the beautiful lights which shone in
j the sea at night. We used to sit at the stern look-

* What is known as the ** boulder clay," however, seems

rather to be the moraine of ancient glaciers — that is, the

i wreck of broken rocks torn away by them in their passage

I through the valleys, and now left bare by their having

melted away.

. \m

111

14 Porpoises and Sea-birds,

ing at them for long together. The ridges of the
waves iTould sometimes seem all on fire, and streaks
and spots of light would follow the ship with every
moment's progress. Sometimes, as the water rushed
round the stern and up from beneath, they would
glitter like a shower of stars or diamonds, joining
presently in a sheet of flame. Now they would look
like balls of glowing metal; then, presently, they
would pass like ribbons of light. There was no end
to the combinations or changes of beauty; the very
water joined to heighten them by its ceaseless min-
gling of colours, from the whitest foam, through
every shade of green, to the dark mass of the
ocean around. These appearances come from the
presence of myriads of creatures of all sizes, chiefly
the different kinds of Sea-nettles,* some of which
are so small as to need a microscope to show
their parts, while others form large masses, and
shine like the suns of these watery constellations.
They are luminous by a phosphoric light they are
able to secrete; their brilliancy being thus of the
same kind as that which smokes and burns in the
dark from the skin of fish, and makes the lights in so
many different insects. The phosphorus used in
manufactures is obtained from burned bones. I
have often seen a similar light in the back woods on
the old half-rotten stumps of trees which had been

* The jelly-fish, or medusa, which we so often see on our
beaches, is a familiar example of the class.

Lights in the Sea, 1 5

cut down. The glow-worm of England and the
fire-fly of Canada are familiar examples of the same
wonderful power of self-'Uumination. Indeed, few
countries are without some species of insect possess-
ing this characteristic. One can't help thinking how
universal life is when they see it as it is shown in
these sights at sea — millions on millions of shining
creatures in the path of a single ship ; and the happi-
ness which life gives us in our youth makes us
admire the kindness of God, who, by making every-
thing so full of it, has crowded the air, and earth,
and waters with so much enjoyment.

Our sabbaths on board were not quite like those
at home ; but, as we had a clergyman with us, who
was going with his family to a chaplaincy in the Far
West, we had prayers and sermons in the forenoon,
when the weather permitted. But a good many of the
passengers were not very respectful to the day, and
some, who, I dare say, were very orderly on Sundays
at home, seemed to act as if to be on a voyage made
every day a week-day.

We were now in the great Gulf of St. Lawrence,
which was called so because Cabot, who discovered
it, chanced to do so on the day set apart to that
saint. But we were some time in it before we siiw
land, and there was more care taken about the posi-
tion of the ship than ever before, for fear we should,
like so many vessels, fall foul of the island of Anti-
costi, or run on shore in a fog. We had had thick

'■^

\i-

ill

ll.il

■ill,

TJiich Ice-fogs,

weather occasionally from our approaching New-
foundland, and it still prevailed now and then till we
got near Quebec. The icebergs coming down from
the north, and the different temperature of the air
coming over them and over the great frozen regions,
cause these thick mists by condensing the evapora-
tion from the warmer sea and preventing its rising
into the air. We could sometimes hardly see the
length of the bowsprit before us, and as the sun
would be shut out for days together, so that we
could not find out our position, it made every one
anxious and half afraid. Many ships are lost by
being mufHed in these thick clouds. They drive,
at full speed, against icebergs or on sunken rocks,
or ashore on the wild coast, when they think
themselves safe in an open clear sea. I often won-
dered when crossing again, some years after, in a
great steamer, how we ever escaped. On we would
go in it, with the fog-bell ringing and horns blowing,
to be sure, but in perfect blind ignorance of what
lay a few yards ahead. Other ships, icebergs, rocks,
or the iron shore, might be close at hand, yet on, on,
up and down went the great shafts, and beat, beat,
Avent the huge paddle-wheels — the ship trembling all
over, as if even it were half uneasy. It is a wonder,
not that so many, but that so few, ships should be
lost, covering the sea as they do at all seasons, like
great flocks of seafowl.

After a time the land became visible at last, first

Sailing tip the Elver, 17

5n one side and then on the other, and the pilot was

iken on board — a curious looking man to most of

IS, in his extraordinary mufflings, and with his

}roken French-English. As we sailed up the river

le views on the banks became very pleasing. The

irhite houses, with their high roofs, like those we see

pictures of French chateaux, and the churches

foofed with tin, and as white underneath as the

bthers, and the line of fields of every shade, from the

brown earth to the dark green wheat, and the curious

ligzag wooden fences, and the solemn woods, every here

id there coming out at the back of the picture, like

reat grim sentinels of the land, made it impossible

stay away from the deck. Then there were the

rand sunsets, with the water like glass, and the

piores reflected in them far down into their depths,

Ind the curtains of gold and crimson in the west,

^here the sun sank out of sight, and the light

langing into crimson, and violet, and green, by

rns, as the twilight faded into night.

\ 1

jiiMt

i, first

CHAPTER II.

Quebec — ^Wolfe — Montcabn's skull — Toronto — We set ofl
for the bush — Mud-roads — A rough ride — Our log-house—
How it was built — Our bam — We get oxen and cows-
Elephant and Buckeye — Unpacking our stores — What some
of our neighbours brought when they came — Hot days-
Bush costumes — Sun-strokes — My sisters have to turn
salamanders — Our part of the house-work.

Our landing at Quebec was only for a very short
time, till some freight was delivered, our vessel having
to go up to Montreal before we left it. But we had
stay enough to let us climb the narrow streets of this,
the oldest of Canadian cities, and to see some of its
sights. The view from different points was unspeak-
ably grand to us after being so long pent up in a
ship. Indeed, in itself, it is very fine. Cape Dia-
mond and the fortifications hanging high in the air
— the great basin below, like a sheet of the purest
silver, where a hundred sail of the line might ride in
safety — ^the village spires and the fields of every
shape, dotted with countless white cottages, the silver
thread of the River St. Charles winding hither and
thither among them, and, in the distance, shutting in

lliij!;,:

Montcalm! i Skull,

this varied loveliness, a range of lofty mountains,
purple and blue by turns, standing out against the
sky in every form of picturesque beauty, made alto-
gether a glorious panorama.

Of course, the great sight of sights to a Briton is
the field of battle on the Plains of Abraham, where
Wolfe, on the 13th September, 1759, won for us, at
the price of his own life, the magnificent colonies of
what is now British North America. Wolfe's body
was taken to England for burial, and now lies in the
vault below the parish church at Greenwich. That
of Montcalm, the French general, who, also, was
killed in the battle, was buried in the Ursuline Con-
vent, where they showed us a ghastly relic of him —
his fleshless, eyeless skull, kept now in a little glass
case, as if it were a thing fit to be exhibited. It
was to me a horrible sight to look at the grinning
death's head, and think that it was once the seat of
the gallant spirit who died so nobly at his post.
His virtues, which aU honour, are his fitting memorial
ia every mind, and his appropriate monument is the
I tomb erected by his victorious enemies — not this
j parading him in the dishonour and humiliation of the
j grave. It is the spirit of which we speak when we
talk of a hero, and there is nothing in common with
it and the poor mouldering skull that once con-
Itained it. '' • - r

Quebec is, as I have said, a beautiful place in sum -

c 2

Toronto,

V I

mer, but it must be bad enough in winter. The
snow lies till well on in May, and it is so deep that,
in the country, everything but houses and trees and
other high objects are covered. The whole landscape
is one unbroken sheet of white, over which you may
go in any direction without meeting or seeing the
smallest obstacle. But people get used to anything;
and even the terrible cold is so met and resisted by
double window-sashes, and fur caps, and gloves, and
coats, that the inhabitants seem actually to enjoy it.

When we got to Toronto, we found that my brother
Robert, who was already in the country, had been
travelling in different directions to look out a place
for us, and had at length bought a farm in the town-
ship of Bidport, on the banks of the River St. Clair.
We therefore stayed no longer in Toronto than pos-
sible, but it took us some time to get everything put
right after the voyage, and we were further detained
by a letter from my brother, telling us that the house
on the farm could not be got ready for us for a week
or two longer. We had thus plenty of time to look
about us, and strange enough everything seemed.
Thp town is very different now-a-days ; but, then, it
was a straggling collection of wooden houses of all
sizes and shapes, a large one next to a miserable one-
storey shell, placed with its end to the street. There
were a few brick houses, but only a few. Thf^ bcr. 3ts
were like a newly-ploughed field in rainy weather,

Mud-roads,

for mud, the waggons often sinking almost to the axles
in it. There was no gas, and the pavements were
both few and bad. It has come to be a fine place
now, but to us it seemed very wretched. While we
were waiting, we laid in whatever provision we
thought we would need for a good while, everything
being much cheaper in Toronto than away in the
bush. A month or less saw us moving, my sisters
going with Andrew and Henry by water, while
Frederic was left behind in an office; Robert, my
Canadian brother, and I, going by land, to get some
business done up the country as we passed. The
stage in which we took our places was a huge affair,
hung on leather springs, with a broad shelf behind,
supported by straps from the upper corners, for the
luggage. There were three seats, the middle one
movable, which it needed to be, as it came exactly
in the centre of the door. The machine and its load
were drawn by four horses, rough enough, but of
good bottom, as they say. The first few miles were
very pleasant, for they had been macadamized, but
after that, what travelling I The roads liad not yet
dried up after the spring rains and thaws, and as they
were only mud, and much travelled, the most the
horses could do w^as to pull us through at a walk.
When we came to a very deep hole, we had to get out
till the coach floundered through it. Every here and
there, where the water had overflowed from the bush

;1
, 1

\\-\

i • t !■

ii !

23 A Bough Ride,

and washed the road completely away in its passage
across it, the ground was strewn with rails which had
been taken from the nearest fences to hoist out some
wheels that had stuck fast. At some places there
had been a wholesale robbery of rails, which had
been thrown into a gap of this kind in the road, till
it was practicable for travellers or waggons. After
a time we had to bid adieu to the comforts of a
coach and betake ourselves to a great open waggon —
a mere strong box, set on four wheels, with pieces of
plank laid across the top for seats. In this affair —
some ten feet long and about four broad — we went
through some of the worst stages. But, beyond
Hamilton, we got back our coach again, and for a
time went on smoothly enough, till we reached a
swamp, which had to be crossed on a road made of
trees cut into lengths and laid side by side, their ends
resting on the trunks of others placed lengthwise.
You may think how smooth it would be, with each
log a different size from the one next it — a great pa-
triarch of the woods rising high between " babes "
half its thickness. The whole fabric had, moreover,
sunk pretty nearly to the level of the water, and the
alder bushes every here and there overhung the
edges. As we reached it late at night, and there was
neither moon nor stars, and a yard too much either
way \.ould have sent coach and all into the water,
men had to be got from the nearest house to go at

1 1

( 1.

A Rough Bide, 23

the horses' heads with lanterns, and the passengers
were politely requested to get out, and stumble on
behind as they could, except two ladies, who were
allowed to stay and be battered up and down inside,
instead of having to sprawl on in the dark with us.
This was my first experience of " corduroy roads,"
but we had several more stretches of them before we
got to our journey's end. I have long ago learned
all the varieties of badness of which roads are capable,
and question whether " corduroy" is entitled to the first
rank. There is a kind made of thick planks, laid side
by side, which, when they get old and broken, may
bid fair for the palm. I have seen a stout, elderly
lady, when the coach was at a good trot, bumped
fairly against the roof by a sudden hole and the shock
against the plank at the other side. But, indeed,
*' corduroy" is dreadful. When we came to it I tried
everything to save my poor bones — sitting on my
hands, or raising my body on them — but it was of
little use ^ on we went, thump, thump, thumping
against one log afler another, and this, in the last
part of our journey, with the bare boards of an
open waggon for seats once more. It was bad
enough in the coach with stuffed seats, but it was
awful on the hard wood. But we got through
without an actual upset or breakdown, which is more
than a friend of mine could say, for the coach in
which he was went into so deep a mud-hole at one

24 Otir Log.hoiise,

part of the road, that it fairly overturned, throwing
the passengers on the top of one another inside, and
leaving them no way of exit, when they came to
themselves, but to crawl out through the window.
It was fine weather, however, and the leaves were
making the woods beautiful, and the birds had begun
to flit about, so that the cheeifulness of nature kept
us from thinking much of our troubles. It took
us three days to go a hundred and fifty miles, and
we stopped on the way besides for my brother's
business, so that the rest of our party had reached
our new home, by their route, before us.

The look of the house which was to be our
dwelling was novel enough to me, with my old ideas
about houses still in my head. It was built a little
back from the river, far enough to give room for a
garden when we had time to make one; and the
trees had been cut down from the water's edge to
some distance behind the house to make things a
little more cheery, and also to prevent the risk of any
of them falling on our establishment in a high wind.
The house itself had, in fact, been built of the logs
procured by felling these patriarchs of the forest,
every one of which had, as usual on Canadian farms,
been cut down. My brother had left special instruc-
tions to spare some of the smaller ones, but the
"chopper" had imderstood him exactly the wrong
way, and had cut down those pointed out with

How it was Built,

especial zeal as the objects of his greatest dislike.
Building the house must have been very heavy work,
for it was made of great logs, the whole thickness of
the trees, piled one on another, a story and a half
high. The neighbours had made what they call a
"bee" to help to "raise" it — that is, they had come
without expecting wages, but with the understanding
that each would get back from us, when he wanted
it, as many days' labour as he had given. They
manage a difficult business like that of getting up
the outside of a log house, more easily than one would
think. First, the logs are cut into the proper lengths
for the sides and the ends; then they are notched at
the end to make them keep together; then an equal
number are put at the four sides to be ready, and
Ithe first stage is over. The next step is to get four
llaid in the proper positions on the ground, and then
Ito get up the rest, layer by layer, on the top of each
jther, till the whole are in their places. It is a ter-
rible strain on the men, for there is nothing but
pheer strength to help them, except that they put
3oles from the top of the last log raised, to the
round, and then, with handspokes, force another up
|ihe slope to its destined position. I have known
lany men terribly wrenched by the handspoke of
^ome other one slipping and letting the whole weight
|)f one end come upon the person next him. The
3gs at the front and back were all fully twenty feet

i III!

26 Our Log -house *

long, and some of them eighteen inches tliick, so that
you may judge their weight. After the square frame
had been thus piled up, windows and a door were
cut with axes, a board at the sides of each keeping
the ends of the logs in their places. You may wonder
how this could be done, but backwoodsmen are so
skilful with the axe that it was done very neatly.
The sashes for the windows and the planking for
different parts of the house were got from a saw-mill
some distance off, across the river, and my brother put
in the glass. Of course there were a great many chinkj
between the logs, but these were filled up, as well as
possible, with billets and chips of wood, the whole
being finally coated and made air-tight with mortar.
Thus the logs looked as if built up with lime, the
great black trunks of the trees alternating with the
grey belts between. The frame of the roof was made
of round poles, flattened on the top, on which boards
were put, and these again were covered with shingles
— a kind of wooden slate made of split pine, which j
answers very well. The angles at the ends were
filled up with logs fitted to the length, and fixed in |
their places by wooden pins driven through the roof-
pole at each corner. On the whole house there were j
no nails used at all, except on the roof. Wooden
pins, and an auger to make holes, made everything
fast. Inside, it was an extrao i-^Hnary place. The floor
was paved with pine slabs, the ( uter planks cut firom

How it was Builf,

logs, with the round side down, and fixed by wooden
pins to sleepers made of thin young trees, cut the
right lengths. Overhoud, a number of similar round
poles, about the thickness of a man's leg, supported
the floor of the upper story, which was to be my
sisters' bedroom. They had planks, however, instead
of boards, in honour of their sex, perhaps. They had
to climb to this paradise by an extraordinary ladder,
made with the never-failing axe and auger, out of
[green, round wood. I used always to think of
IKobinson Crusoe getting into his fortification when I
jsaw them going up. ' \

The chinmey was a wonderful affair. It was large
lenough to let you walk up most of the way, and could
lold, I can't tell how many logs, four or five feet long,
for a fire. It was built of mud, and when whitewashed
looked very well — at least we came to like it ; it was
BO clean and cheerful in the winter time. But we had
to pull it down some years after, and get one built of
jrick, as it was always getting out of repair. A
partition was put up across the middle and then
livided again, and this made two bedrooms for my
jrothers, and left us our solitary room which was
ko serve for kitchen, dining-room, and drawing-room,
^he outer door opening into it. As to paint, it was
jut of the question, but we had lime for whitewash,
md what with it and some newspapers which my
jrothers pasted up in their bedrooms, and a few pic-

\n ii

i' :i

:R::i

!it!!!!!i!!

I iiii

ill

It p,

'ill
ill

^ Iiii

Ml I m'

III u 'i,

-ill'!

28 . Our Log-liouse,

tiires we brought from home, we thought we were
quite stylish. There was no house any better, at
any rate, in the neighbourhood, and, I suppose, we
judged by that.

To keep out the rain and the cold — for rats were
not known on the river for some years after — the
whole of the bottom log outside had to be banked
up after our arrival, the earth being dug up all
round and thrown against it. The miserable shan-
ties in which some settlers manage to live for a time
are half buried by this process, and the very wretched
ones built by labourers alongside public works while
making, look more like natural mounds than human
habitations. I have often thought it was a curious
thing to see how people, when in the same, or nearly
the same, circumstances, fall upon similar plans.
Some of the Indians in America, for instance, used
to sink a pit for a house and build it round with
stones, putting a roof on the walls, which reached
only ? I'^^^le above the ground; and antiquarians tell
us that the early Scotch did the very same. Then
Xenophon, long ago, and Curzon, in our day, tell us
how they were often like to fall through the roof of
the houses in Armenia into the middle of the family
huddled up, with their oxen, beneath, their dwellings
being burrowed into the side of a slope, and showing
no signs of their presence from above. But our house
was not like this, I am happy to say ; it was on the

How it was Built,

crround, not in it, and was very warm for Canada,
when the wind did not come against the door, whicli
was a very poor one, of inch-thick wood. The
i thickness of the logs kept out the cold wonderfully,
j though that in a very ambiguous word for a Cana-
dian house, which would need to be made two logs
thick to be warm without tremendous fires — at least,
in the open unsheltered country. The houses made
of what they call " clap-boards" — that is, of narrow
boards three-quarters of an inch thick, and lathed
and plastered inside — are very much colder; indeed,
they are, in my opinion, awful, in any part of them
[where a fire is not kept up all winter.

One thing struck me very much, that locks and
[bolts seemed to be thought very useless things.
Most of the doors had only wooden latches, made
with an axe or a knife, and fastened at night by a
iTooden pin stuck in above the bar. We got water
rom the river close at hand ; a plank run out into
the stream forming what they called " a wharf," to
let us get depth enough for our pitchers and pails.

Besides the house, my brother had got a barn
Duilt not far from the house — of course a log one —
3n the piece clear of trees. It was about the size of
^he house, but the chinks between the logs were not
BO carefully filled up as in it. The squirrels, indeed.
Boon found this out, and were constantly running in
md out when we had any grain in it. The upper

C
D

i ^«'

Illllilii

^ili!

i!j|ji

J.' Illil

lilt

30 TFe get Oxen and Coios,

part was to hold our hay, and half of the ground-
lioor was for our other crops, the cows having the
remainder for their habitation. We bought a yoke
of oxen — that is, two — a few days after our arrival,
and we began with two cows, one of them a pretty
fair milker, but the other, which had been bought at
an extra price, was chosen by Robert for its fine
red skin, and never had given much milk, and
never did. The oxen, great unwieldy brutes, were
pretty well broken ; but they were so different from
anything we had ever seen for ploughing or drawing
a waggon, that we were all rather afraid of their
horns at first, and not very fond of having anything
to do with them. We had bought a plough and
harrows, and I don't know what else, before coming
up, and had brought a great many things besides
from England, so that we had a pretty fair beginning
in farm implements. An ox- waggon was very soon
added to our purchases — a rough affair as could be.
It was nothing but two planks for the bottom and |
one for each side, with short pieces at the ends,
like the waggon-stage, on the road from Toronto — a I
long box on four wheels, about the height of a cart,
The boards were quite loose, to let them rise and |
fall in going over the roads when they were bad,
The oxen were fastened to this machine by a yoke,
which is a heavy piece of hard wood, with a hollow |
at each end for the back of the necks of the oxen, ,

Elephant and Buckeye, 81

and an iron ring in the middle, on the under side, to
slip over a pin at the end of the waggon -pole, the
oxen being secured to it by two thin collars of a
tough wood called hickory, which were just pieces
bent to fit their deep necks, the ends being pushed
up through two holes in the yokes at each side, and
fastened by pins at the top. There was no harness
of any kind, and no reins, a long wmivI serving to
guide them. I used at first to think it was a very
brave thing to put the yoke on them or take it oiF.

The names of our two were Elephant and Buck-
eye, the one, as his name showed, a great creature,
but as lazy as he was huge; the other, a much
nicer beast, somewhat smaller, and a far better
[worker. They were both red and white, and so
patient and quiet that I used to be ashamed of my-
self when I got angry at them for their solemn slow-
ness and stupidity. Had we been judges of cattle
we might have got much better ones for the money
they cost us; but my brother Andrew, who bought
them, had never had any more to do with oxen till
[then than to help to eat them at dinner. However,
Iwe never bought anything more from the man who
Isold us them.

Our first concern when we had got fairly into the

[house was to help to get the furniture and luggage

{brought from the wharf, two miles oflf, for we had to

leave everything except our bedding there on land-

r-;

32 JJnpachmg our Stores.

ing. It was a great job to get all into the waggon,
and then to open it after reaching the house. The
whaff was a long wooden structure, built of logs
driven into the shallow bed of the river for perhaps
a hundred yards out to the deep water, and planked
over. There was a broad place at the end to turn a
waggon, but so much of it was heaped up with what
they called " cord wood" — that is, wood for fuel, cut
four feet long — ^that it took some management to get
this done. A man whom we had hired as servant
of all work, at two pounds and his board and lodg-
ing a-month, brought down the waggon, and I shall
never forget how we laughed at his shouting and
roaring all the way to the oxen, as he walked at
their heads with a long beech wand in his hand. He
never ceased bellowing at them in rough, angry
names, except to vary them by orders, such as
Haw ! Gee ! Woa ! Hup ! which were very ridi-
culous when roared at their ears loud enough to
have let them know his wishes if they had been on
the other side of the river. Somehow, every one
who drives oxen in Canada seems to have got into
the same plan ; we ourselves, indeed, fell into it more
than I would have thought after a time. When we
had begun to move the luggage, what boxes on boxes
had to be lifted I We all lent a hand, but it was
hard work. There was the piano, and the eight-day
clock, in a box like a coffin, and carpets, and a huge

What some of our Neighbours hrout/ht. 33

I wardrobe, packed full of I don't know what, large
lenough to have done for a travelling show, and boxes
lof books, and crockery, and tables, and a great car-
Ipenter's chest, not to speak of barrels of oatmeal,
md flour, and salt, and one of split peas. I think
the books were the heaviest, except that awful ward-
robe and the chest of drawers, which were all packed
full of something. But they paid over and over for
ill the trouble and weight, proving the greatest pos-
sible blessing. If we had not brought them we
TOuld have turned half savages, I suppose, for there
rare none to buy nearer than eighty or ninety miles,
^nd, besides, we would not have had money to buy
We had a whole set of Sir Walter Scott's

lem.

bharming stories, which did us a world of good, both

}y helping us to spend the winter evenings plea-

mtly, by the great amount of instruction in history

Lnd antiquarian lore they contained, and by showing

ly young sisters, especially, that all the world were

Lot like the rude people about us. They got a taste

)r elegance and refinement from them that kept

lem ladies in their feelings while they had only the

ife of servants.

When we had got all the things into the house,

16 next thing was to unpack them. A large pier-

[lass, which would have been very useful, but rather

|ut of the way in such a house, was discovered to be

livered to fragments ; and some crockery had found

• IS';

I M

84 JFAat some of our Neighbours brought,

the shaking on the journey too much for its powers
of resistance. That horrid wardrobe, which had
sprained our backs to get on the waggon, would
barely go in at the door, and we were very much
afraid at first, that, after bringing it more than three
thousand miles, we should have to roof it over, cut j
holes in it, and make it a hen-house. It was all but j
too large, like the picture in the " Vicar of Wake-
field," which would not go in at any door when it I
was brought home. There was not room for nearly
all our furniture, and one end of my sisters' loft was
packed like a broker's store-room with part of it.
My brother's being in America before had, however,
saved us from bringing as outrageous things as some |
who afterwards settled in the neighbourhood. I re-
member one family who brought ever so many huge!
heavy grates, not knowing that there was no coal in
Canada, and that they were useless. They would,
indeed, be able to get Ohio coal now, in the larger!
towns ; but there was none then anywhere. The
only fuel burned all through the country parts, iu
fireplaces, is, still, great thick pieces of split logs, four
feet long. One settler from Ireland had heard that
there were a great many rattlesnakes in Canada; and]
as he had been a cavalry volunteer, and had the ac-
coutrements, he brought a brass helmet, a regulation!
sabre, buckskin breeches, and jack-boots with him,
that he might march safely through the jungle whicli

If hat some of our Neighbours brought. 35

he supposed he should find on his route. The young

i clergyman who afterwards came out had a different

fear. He thought there might be no houses for him

to sleep in at nights, and brought out a hammock to

[swing up under the trees. Wliat he thought the people

jto whom he was to preach lived in, I don't know ;

Iperhaps he fancied we cooked our dinners under the

trees, and lived without houses, like the Indians. In

Bome countries, hammocks are u^ed in travelling

through uninhabited places, on account of the poi-

Bonous insects on the ground and the thickness of

khe vegetation ; but in Canada such a thing is never

leard of, houses being always within reach in the

parts at all settled ; and travellers sleep on the ground

irhen beyond the limits of civilization. But to

leap in the open air at all makes one such a figure

Ufore morning with mosquito-bites, that nobody

rould try it a second time, if he could help it. I

cas once on a journey up Lake Huron, of which I

lall speak by and bye, where we had to sleep a

[ight on the ground, and, what with ants running

rer us, and with the mosquitoes, we had a most

retched time of it. A firiend who was with me had

b nose so bitten that it was thicker above than

Blow, and looked exactly as if it had been turned

pside down in the dark.

It took us some time to get everything fairly in
ler, but it was all done after a while. We were all

MM*

Il I

36 Hot Boys.

in good health; everything before us was new; and
the weather, though very Avarm, was often delightful
in the evenings. Through the day it was sometimes
very oppressive, and we had hot nights now and then
that were still worse. A sheet seemed as heavy as ifj
it had been a pair of blankets, and when we were
sure the door was fast, we were glad to throw even it
aside. We always took a long rest at noon till thel
sun got somewhat cooler, but the heat was bad enougil
even in the shade. I have known it pretty nearly,!
if not quite, 100° some days in the house. I remem.!
ber hearing some old gentlemen once talking aboutj
it, and telling each other how they did to escape it;j
the one declared that the coolest part of the hoiise|
was beloAv the bed, and the other, a very stout clergj'-
man, said he found the only spot for study was in tlijl

cellar. Captain W used to assert that it to|

often as hot in Canada as in the West Indies.

My sisters never went with so little clothing before;!
and, indeed, it was astonishing how their circmDJ
ference collapsed under the influence of the sun. iij
to us, we thought only of coolness. Coarse straKi
hats, with broad brims, costing about eightpencfl
apiece, with a handkerchief in the crown to keep tliJ
heat off the head ; a shirt of blue cotton, wide trow]
sers of dark printed calico, or, indeed, of anythii^
thin, and boots, composed our dress. But this wj
elaborate, compared with that adopted by a gentW

Bush Costumes.

man who was leading a bachelor life back in the
bush some distance from us. A frieuu went to see
him one day, and found him frying some bacon on a
fire below a tree before his door; — a potato-pot hang-
ling by a chain over part of it, from a bough — his only
dress being a shirt, boots, a hat, and a belt round his
hvaist, with a knife in it. He had not thought of any
one penetrating to his wilderness habitation, and
llaughed as heartily at being caught in such a plight
las my friend did at catching him. For my part, I
thought I should be cooler still if I turned up my
shirt-sleeves ; but my arms got forthwith so tanned
md freckled, that even yet they are more useful than
aeautiful. One day there chanced to be a torn place
)n my shoulder, which I did not notice on going out.
thought, after a time, that is was very hot, but took
It for granted it could not be helped. When I came
In at dinner, however, I was by no means agreeably
surprised when my sister Margaret called out to me,
George, there's a great blister on your shoulder,"
irhich sure enough there was. I took care to have
llways a whole shirt after that.

"We had hardly been a month on the river when we
leard that a man, fresh from England, who had been
It work for a neighbour, came into the house one after-
loon, saying he had a headache, and died, poor fellow,
less than an hour. He had had a sun-stroke. Some-
kimes those who are thus seized fall down at once in a fit

:i P

Smi'StroJces.

of apoplexy, as was the case with Sir Charles Napier
in Scinde. I knew a singular instance of what the
sun sometimes does, in the case of a young man, a
plumber by trade, who liad been working on a roof
in one of the towns on a hot day. He was struck
down in an instant, and was only saved from death
by a fellow-workman. For a time he lost his reason,
but that gradually came back. He lost the power of
every part of his body, however, except his head,
nothing remaining alive, you may sjiy, but that. He
could move or control his eyes, mouth, and neck, but
that was all. He had been a strong man, but he
wasted away till his legs and arms were not thicker
than a child's. Yet he got much better eventually,
after being bedridden for several years, and when I last
was at his house, could creep about on two crutches.
I used to pity my sisters, who had to work over the
fire, cooking for us. It was bad enough for girls who
had just left a fashionable school in England, and were
quite young yet, to do work which hitherto they had
always had done for them, but to have to stoop over
a fire in scorching hot weather must have been very
exhausting. They had to bake in a large iron pot,
set upon embers, and covered with them over the
lid; and the dinner had to be cooked on the logs
in the kitchen fireplace, until we thought of setting
up a contrivance made by laying a stout stick on two
upright forked ones, driven into the ground at each

Going to MilL 89

end of a firo kindled outside, and hanging the pots
from it. While I think of it, what a source of annoy-
ance the cooking on the logs in the fireplace was
before we got a crane ! I remember we once
had a large brass panfull of raspberry jam, nicely
poised, as we thought, on the burning logs, and just
ready to be lifted off, when, lo ! some of the fire-
wood below gave way and down it went into the
ashe.^! Baking was a hard art to learn. What
bread we had to eat at first 1 We used to quote
Hood's lines —

"Who has not heard of home-made bread —
That heavy compound of putty and lead ?"

But practice, and i. few lessons from a neighbour's

wife, made my sisters quite expert at it. We had

some trouble in getting flour, however, after our first

stock ran out. The mill was five miles off, and, as

we had only oxen, it was a tedious job getting to it

and back again. One of my brothers used to set off

at five in the morning, with his breakfast over, and

I was not back again till nine or ten at night — that is,

j after we had wheat of our own. It had to be ground

i while he waited. But it was not all lost time, for

the shoemaker's was near the mill, and we always

made the same journey do for both. In winter

hve were sometimes badly off when our flour ran

short. On getting to the mill, we, at times, found

the wheel frozen hard, and that the miller had no

40 Out part of the houseioork,

flour of his own to sell. X have known us for a fort-
night having to use potatoes instead of bread, when
our neighbours happened to be as ill-provided os we,
and could not lend us a " baking."

But baking was not all that was to be done in a
house like ours, with so many men in it. No
servants could be had ; the girls round, even when
their fathers had been labourers in England, were
quite above going out to service, so that my sisters
har^ their hands full. We tried to help them as
much as we could, bringing in the wood for the fire,
and carrying all the water from the river. Indeed,
I used to think it almost a pleasure to fetch the
water, the river was so beautifully clear. Never was
crystal more transparent. I was wont to idle as well
as work while thus employed, looking at the beautiful
stones and pebbles that lay at the bottom, far beyond
the end of the plank that served for our " wharf"

• CHAPTER HI.

Clearing the land — David's bragging, and tho end of it —
Burning the log-heapa—Our logging bee — What prejudice
can do — Our fences and crops nearly burned— The woods
on fire — Building a snake-fence — "Shingle" pigs give us
sore trouble — " Breachy" horses and cattle.

ITiie first thing that had to be done with the land
Iwas to make a farm of it, by cutting down and burn-
jiug as many trees as wo could before the end ot
lAugust, to have some room for sowing wheat in the
Ifirst or second week of September. It was now well
Ion in June, so that we had very little time. How-
lever, by hiring two men to chop (we didn't board or
■lodge them) and setting our other hired man to help,
md with the addition of what my brothers Robert and
)avid could do, we expected to get a tolerably-sized
ield ready. Henry and I were too young to be of
luch use; Henry, the elder, being only about fif-
teen. As to Andrew, he could not bear such work,
md paid one of the men to work for him. Yet both
le and we had all quite enough to do, in the lighter
parts of the business. We had got axes in Toronto,
ind our man fitted them into the crooked handles

cl 'I

:ii!

),:'

42 Clearing the Land.

which they use in Canada. A British axe, with a
long, thin blade, only set the men a laughing ; and,
indeed, it chanced to be a very poor affair, for one
day the whole face of it flew off as Robert was making
a furious cut with it at a thistle. The Canadian
axes were shaped like wedges, and it was wonderful
to see how the men made the chips fly out of a tree
with them. We got up in the morning with the sun,
and went out to work till breakfast, the men whack-
ing away with all their might ; Nisbet, our own man,
as we called him, snorting at every stroke, as if that
helped him, and my two elder brothers using their
axes as well as they could. We, younger hands, had,
for our part, to lop off the branches when the trees
were felled. My brothers soon got to be very fair
choppers, and could finish a pretty thick tree sooner
than you would suppose. But it was hard work, for
some of the trees were very large. One in particular,
an elm, which the two men attacked at the same]
time, was so broad across the stump, after it was cut
down, that Nisbet, who was a fair-sized man, when
he lay down across it, with his head at the edge on
one side, did not reach with his feet to the other.
But, thicker or thinner, all came doAvn as we ad-|
vanced. The plan was to make, first, a slanting stroke,
and, then, another, straight in, to cut off the chip thus I
made; thus gradually reaching the middle, leaving a |
smooth, flat stump about three feet high miderneath,

Clearing the Land. 43

and a slope inwards above. The one side done, they

; began the same process with the other, hacking away

I chip after chip from the butt, till there was not enough

left to support the mass above. Then came the signal

of the approaching fall by a loud crack of the thin

strip that was left uncut; on hearing which, we

looked up to see which way the huge shaft was coming,

and would take to our heels out of its reach, if it

Ithreatened to fall in our direction. It is wonderful,

Ihowever, how exactly a skilful chopper can deter-

Imine beforehand how a tree shall come down. They

Isometimes manage, indeed, to aim one so fairly at

|a smaller one, close at hand, as to send it, also, to the

round with the blow. Accidents rarely happen,

though, sometimes, a poor man runs the wrong way

ind gets killed. What a noise the great monarchs

[)f the forest made as they thundered down I It was

like firing off a great cannon; and right glad we

rere when we had a good many such artillery to fire

}ff in a day. But it was often dreadfully hot work,

ind my brothers seemed as if they should never

irink enough. I used to bring them a small pailful

)f water at a time, and put it on the shady side of a

btump, covering it over with some green thing

besides, to keep it cool. The cows and oxen seemed

bo take as much pleasure as ourselves in our pro-

ress, for no sooner was a tree down than they would

36 among its branches, munching oiF the tender ends

44 BavicVs Bragging ^ and the end of it,

as if they were great delicacies in their eyes. It was
harder to keep them out of harm's way than our-
selves, and many a time I was half afraid a tree
would be down on me before I got them out ot
danger. Indeed, we had one loss, though only a
small one. We had been talking over night about
cattle being killed, and David, who was always a
great brag, had told us that "he thought it all
stupidity ; he didn't know how people killed
beasts ; he could chop for years and never hu^t
anything, if there were ever so many cattle about."
Next morning, however, before breakfast, we were
aU hard at work, and the oxen and cows were busy
with the twigs as usual, when a fine little calf we had
got with one of the cows, wandered off in David's
direction, just as a tree he was at was about to fall;
and, presently, while he was all excitement about its I
going the right way for himself, it was down smash
on the poor calf, which was, of course, gone in a
moment. We were sorry for the unfortunate little
creature, but we could not help laughing amidst all
at the face David put on. " It was very singular-
very. He couldn't account for it; how could he
think a calf would leave its mother ?" But he said I
no more about the stupidity of people who killed
oxen or cows while chopping.

Working hard every day, it was surprising what i
piece we soon felled. When we had got as much I

Burning the Log -heaps, 45

down as we thought we could clear off in time for
the wheat, we gave the rest a respite for a while, and
set to getting rid of those we had already overthrown.
The straightest of them were selected for rails, with
which to fence our intended field ; all the others were to
be remorselessly burned, stock and branch. The first
step towards this had been taken already, by us lads
;.aving cut off the branches from each tree as it was
felled, and heaped them together in different spots.
The trunks of the trees had next , i be cut into pieces
about ten feet long, those intended for rails being left
somewhat lor;g«^ I wonder how often the axes rose
and fell during . '^to weeks. Even my brothers be-
gan to be able to use them more skilfully, their stumps
beginning to look smooth and clean cut, instead of
being hacked in a thousand ridges, as at first. How
an English carpenter's heart would have grieved over
the destruction of so much splendid wood ! The
finest black walnut, and oak, and maple, was slashed
at irom morning to night, with no thought on our
parts but to get it out of the way as quickly as
possible.

Everything was, at last, ready for the grand
finishing act, but that required the help of some
neighbours, so that we had to call another " bee."
Tlic logs had to be rolled together and piled up for
burning, which would have taken us too long if left
to ourselves alone. We got a good woman from a

11^

mm.

46 Our Logging Bee.

farm not far off to come in to help my sisters in their
preparations, for there is always a great deal of|
cooking on these occasions. Salt beef and salt pork
were to form the centre dishes at the dinner, but
there was to be a great array of pies and tarts, for
which we bought part of the fruit across the river,
and, of the rest, there were pumpkins, which we got
from settlers near at hand, and we had plums enough,
very good though wild, from trees in our own bush.
Tea, with cream to every one's taste, formed the
principal beverage, though the most of the men
wanted to get whisky besides. But it almost always
leads to drunkenness and fighting, so that we did
without it. On the day appointed there was a very
good muster — perhaps twenty men altogether. They
came immediately after breakfast, and we took care
to be ready for them.

Our oxen were brought to the ground with their
yoke on, and a long chain fastened to the ring in it,
and two of the men brought each another yoke, so
that we were noisy enough and had plenty of excite-
ment. Two men got it as their task to drive, others
fixed the chains round the logs, and drew them as j
near each other as possible, in lots of about six or
seven, and the rest had to lift each lot, one log on
another, into piles. Henry and I were set to gather
the loose brush that was left, and throw it on the top
of the heaps, and thrust the dry rotten sticks lying I

What Prejudice can do, 47

j about, into the holes between the logs, to help them

to burn. It was astonishing to sec how the oxen

walked away with their loads. Standing as quiet a3

jif they could not move, except when their tails were

sent to do duty on some troublesome flies, their faces

las solemnly stupid as possible, the first shout of the

[driver made them lean instantly against their yoke

jin a steady pull, which moved almost any log to

(which they might be chained. Horses would have

humped and tugged, and the log would have stuck

irhere it was, but the solid strain of the oxen, their

two heads often together, and their bodies far apart,

ras irresistible. OiF they walked with huge cuts ot

rees, ten feet long, as if they had been trifles. It

iras a wonder how they could stand dragging such

leavy weights over the rough ground, with nothing

)ut the thin wooden collar round their necks, against

(rhich to press. A horse needs a padded collar, but

tin ox doesn't seem to suffer from the want of it. In

fova Scotia, which I afterwards visited, and also in

jower Canada, oxen are harnessed by the horns, and

(rou are only laughed at if you say that it seems cruel.

believe if they were yoked by the tail in any

kountry, the people who used them in that way would

tand up for its superiority to any other. Prejudice

a wonderful thing for blinding men. I have heard

kf a gentleman in the East Indies, who felt for the la-

iourers having to carry the earth from some public work

Cm**

48 Burning the Logs,

they were digging, in baskets, on their shoulders, and
got a number of wheelbarrows made for them, showing
them himself how to use them, and how much better
they were than their own plan. But, next morning,
when he came to see how they were liking the new
system, what was his astonishment to find that they
had turned the barrows also into baskets, carrying
them on their shoulders, with a man at each handle
and one at the wheel 1

"With a due rest for dinner and supper, an extra
time being taken in the middle of the day to escape
the heat, and with a wonderful consumption of eat-
ables, including beef and pork, pies, tarts, pickles,
puddings, cakes, tea, and other things, at each meal,
we got through the day to the satisfaction of all,
and had now only to get everything burned off.

The next day it was slightly windy, which was in
our favour, and, still better, the wind was blowing
away from our house and barn. The burning was
as thorough as we could have desired, but it was
hot work. We brought some wood embers from the
house, and laid them on the top of one of the logs,
on the side next the wind. Then we piled chips and
splinters on them, which were soon in flames, and
from them there soon was a grand blaze of the whole
pile. Thus we went on, from one to another, until
they were all a-fire. But the rolling the pieces to-
gether as they burned away, and the stuffing odd I

Our Fern

ends into the ho
work. We ran
bit of branch oi
clean sweep mad
were like when
and hands, and si
easily fancied,
enough to get rid
we got everything
up of the fragme
mained.

We were fortun
fire which we wis!
[have known of n:
pieces of dead woo
aud the coat of vex
.soil of the forest,
Ipreventit, the fire
ground, and setting
1 1 remember, some
I was one day goini
iTOuld be as well,|
Ibrush heaps that
Ibeing cleared, quitj
Iroad; but he had hi
[sisters, Margaret a{
liouse, noticed that
M was making fo^

iililli;;!

Our Fences and Crops nearly burned, 49

ends into the hollows to keep up the flame, was wild
work. We ran about all day, gathering up every
bit of branch or dead wood we could find, to get a
clean sweep made of everything at once. What we
were like when all was over, with our black faces
and hands, and smudged shirts and ^^owsers, may be
easily fancied. But, after , \,. day was not
enough to get rid of the whole. It was days before
we got everything burned, the last pile being made
up of the fragments of all the rest that still re-
mained.

We were fortunate in not having anything set on

fire which we wished to keep from being burned. I

have known of many cases where dried leaves and

pieces of dead wood, and the thick roots of the grass,

1 aud the coat of vegetable matter always found in the

i5oil of the forest, kindled, in spite of every effort to

prevent it, the tire running along, far and near, in the

ground, and setting everything it reached in a blaze.

I remember, some years after our arrival, Henry

was one day going some distance, and thought it

would be as well, before he started, to fire some

[brush heaps that were standing in a field that was

Ibeing cleared, quite a distance back, along the side

Iroad; but he had hardly done so and setoff, than my

jsisters, Margaret and Eliza, who were alone in the

house, noticed that the fire had caught the ground,

bd was making for the strip at the side of the road,

c
)

IS I

50 Our Fences and Crops nearly htirned,

in the direction of the wheat field. It was leaping
from one thing to another, as the wind carried it,
and had already put the long fence next it, running
along six or seven acres, in great danger. If it had
once kindled that, it might have swept on towards
the house and barn and burned up everything we
had ; but my sisters were too thorough Canadians
by this time to let it have its own way. Off the
two set to the burning bank, and began to take
down the fence rail by rail, and carry each across
the road, where the fire could not reach them,
Fortunately there was only stubble in the field, and
the black ploughed earth checked the fire, but it
kept running along the road, breaking out afresh
after they had thought it was done, and keeping
them fighting with the rails the whole day, until
Henry came back at night. A man, who passed in
a waggon when they were in the worst of their
trouble, never offered them any help, poor girls, but
drove on, " guessing" they " had a pretty tight job
thar." Thanks to their activity there was no mis-
chief done, except the taking down the fence ; but it
was a wonder it did not hurt my sisters, as the rails
are so heavy that men never lift more than one at
a time, or very seldom.

Another instance occurred about the same time,
but on a larger scale. One day, on looking east]
from the house, we noticed, about two miles offi

great clouds o
course we wer
found that gr
forest which w
of huge pine t]
some terrible
before. Some
parts; others j
burning, and W(
of time. They
tliickest confusi
have kept back
m'les, tlieir great
and naked, into \
them, and was 1
limb and sending
It was a terrible
I how far it woulc
[spread to the fo
Imany of the tree
jat the ground, &
livhile, sometimes,
[fire would be
nearly a hundred
[from the earth, f
ihe sight was gi'
nass of prostrate
Mges, tongues of

The Woods on Fire,

rrreat clouds of smoke rising from the woods, and of
course we were instantly oif to see what it was. "We
found that ground-fire had got into a piece of the
forest which we called the " "Windfall," a broad belt
of huge pine trees, which had been thrown down by
some terrible whirlwind, I don't know how long
before. Some of them had already mouldered in
parts; others had been charred by some former
burning, and would have lasted for almost any length
of time. They lay on each other in the wildest and
thickest confusion, making a barricade that would
have kept back an army of giants, and reaching for
m'les, their great branches rising in thousands, black
and naked, into the air. The fire had fairly caught
I them, and was leaping and crackling from limb to
limb and sending up volumes of the densest smoke.
It was a terrible sight to see, and no one could tell
how far it would extend. We were afraid it would
spread to the forest at each side, and it did catch
Imany of the trees next it, fixing on them, sometimes
[at the ground, sometimes up among the branches,
{•while, sometimes, the first indication of their being on
Ifire would be by the dead part at the very top,
aearly a hundred feet, I should think, in some cases,
Ifrom the earth, flaming out like a star. At night
|the sight was gi'and in the extreme — the blazing
nass of prostrate trees in the Windfall, and, at its
^dges, tongues of flame, running up the huge trunks,

■•J

62 Building a SnaJce-fence,

or breaking out here and there on their sides.

one place a field came very near the path of the
conflagration, and it was feared that, though the
trees did not come close enough to set the fence on
fire by contact, it might be kindled by the burning
twigs and inflammable matter that covered the
ground. A plough was therefore brought, and
several broad furrows were run outside, that the
ground-fire might thus be stopped. The plan was
effectual, and the fence remained untouched; but
the fire among the dead pines spread day afler day,
till it had burned up everything before it, to an open-
ing in the forest on the other side, where it at last
died out.

As soon as the log-piles had been fairly disposed
of, we had, for our next job, to get the rails put up
round the field thus cleared. They were made, from
the logs that had been saved for the purpose, by one
of the choppers, whom we retained. First -of all, he
sank his axe into one end of the log, and then he
put an iron or wooden wedge into the clefl he had
made, and drove it home with a mallet. Then, into
the crack made by the first wedge, he put a second,
and that made it split so far down that only another
was generally needed to send it in two. The same
process was gone through with the halves, and then
with the parts, until the whole log lay split into
pieces, varying in thickness from that of a man's leg to

Building a Snake fence, 53

ns much again, aa they were wanted light or heavy.

You must remember that they were twelve feet long.

To make them into a fence, you laid a line of them

down on the ground in a zigzag, like a row of very

broad V's, the end of the second resting on that of

the first, and so on, round the comers, till you came

to within the length of a rail from where you started.

The vacant space was to be the entrance to the field.

Then five or six more were laid, one on • another, all

round, in the same way — or rather, were put up in

short, complete portions, till all were in their places.

The ends, at each side of the entrance, were next

lifted and laid on pins put between two upright posts

at each side. To make a gate, we had a second set

of posts, with pins, close to the others, and on these

pins, rails were laid which could be taken out when

wanted, and served very well for a gate, but we

boys almost always went over the fence rather than

go round to it. To keep all the rails in their places

we had to put up what they called " stakes" at each

I angle — that is, we had to take shorter rails, sharp-

I ened a little at the end, and push one hard into the

j ground on each side of the fence, at every overlapping

of the ends of the rails, leaning them firmly against

the top rail, so that they crossed each other above.

The last thing was to lay a light rail all round into

[the crosses thus made, so as to " lock" them, and to

Imake the wlicle so high that no beast could get over it.

\ r; i

64 " Shivgle Pigs** give v» sore trouble.

We used to laugh about what we were told of
the pigs and cattle and horses getting through and
over fences ; but we soon found out that it was no
laughing matter. The pigs were our first enemies,
for, though we had made the lowest four rails very
close, as we thought, to keep them out, we found we
had not quite succeeded. There were some of a
horrible breed, which they called the " shingle pig,"
as thin as a slate, with long snouts, long coarse
bristles, iong legs, and a belly like a greyhound-
creatures about as different from an English pig as
can be imagined. They could run like a horse, no-
thing would fatten them, and they could squeeze
themselves sideways through an opening where you
would have thought they could never have got in.
If any hollow in the ground gave them the chance of
getting below the rails, they were sure to find it out,
and the first thing you would see, perhaps, would be
a great gaunt skeleton of a sow, with six or eight
little ones, rooting away in the heart of your field.
With old fences they made short work, for if there
were a piece low and ricketty they would fairly
push it over with their horrid long noses, and enter
with a triumphant grunt. Although they might
have spared our feelings, and left our first little field
alone, they did not, but never rested snuflSng round
the fence, till they found out a place or two below it
that had not been closely enough staked, through

It ,'ll«

\Mm

" Shingle P'iga** give us sore trouble. 65

which they squeezed themselveB almost every day, until

we found out where they were and stopped them up.

The brutes were so cunning that they would never

go in before you, but would stand looking round the

end of the fence with their wicked eyes till you were

gone. Robert thought at first he could take revenge

on them and whip them out of such annoying habits,

and whenever the cry was given that " the pigs were

in," if he were within reach he would rush for the

whip, and over the fence, to give them the weight of

it. But they were better at running than he was,

and, though he cut off the corners to try to head

them, I don't know that, in all the times he ran

himself out of breath, he ever did more than make

them wonder what his intention could be in giving

them such dreadful chases. We learned to be wiser

after a time, and by keeping down our ill nature

and driving them gently, found they would make

for the place where they got in, and, by going out at

I it, discover it to us. I only once saw a pig rim

down, and it wasn't a "shingle" one. Neither

Robert, nor any of us — for we were all, by h:*>;

[orders, tearing after it in different directions — could

come near it ; but a man we had at the time started

off like an arrow in pursuit, and very soon had it by

the hind leg, lifting it by which, the same instant, to

poor piggy's great astonishment, h .; sent it with a

great heave over the fence, down on the grass out-

56 " BreacJiy" Horses and Cattle,

side. It was a small one, of course, else he could
not have done it. A gentleman some miles above us
used to be terribly annoyed by all the pigs of the
neighbourhood, as he declared, getting round the end
of his fence which ran into the river, and thought he
would cure matters by running it out a rail farther.
But they were not to be beaten, and would come to
the outside, and swim round his fancied protection.
He had to add a third length of rail before he
stopped them, and it succeeded only by the speed of
the current being too great for them to stem. ,

But pigs were not the only nuisance. Horses and
cattle were sometimes a dreadful trouble. A
" breachy" horse, or ox, or cow — that is, one given
to leap fences or break them down — is sure to lead
all the others in the neighbourhood into all kinds of
mischief. The gentleman who was so worried by
the nautical powers of the pigs, used to be half dis-
tracted by a black mare which ran loose in his
neighbourhood, and led the way into his fields to a
whole troop of horses, which, but for her, would
have been harmless enough. If a fence were weak
she would shove it over ; or if firm, unless it were
very high indeed, she would leap over it, generally
knocking off rails enough in doing so to let the others
in. She took a fancy to a fine field of Indian corn he
had a little way from his house, and night after night,
when he had fairly got into bed, he would hear her

" Breach^" Horses and Cattle, 57

crashing over the fence into it, followed by all the
rest. Of course he had to get up and dress himself,
and then, after running about half an hour, through
dewy corn as high as his head, to get them out
attain, he had to begin in the middle of the night to
rebuild his brc en rampart. Only think of this, re-
peated night after night. I used to laugh at his nine
or ten feet high fence, which I had to climb every
time I went along the river side to see him, but he
always put me off by saying — " Ah, you haven't a
black mare down your way." And I am happy to
say we had not.

The cattle were no less accomplished in all forms
of field-breaking villany than the pigs and horses.
We had one brute of a cow, sometime after we came,
that used deliberately to hook off the rails with her
horns, until they were low enough to let her get her
forelegs over, and then she leaned heavily on the
rest until they gave way before her, after which she
j would boldly march in. She was an excellent milker,
so that we did all we could to cure her — sticking a
board on her horns, and hanging another over her
eyes — ^but she had a decided taste for fence-breaking,
and we had at last to sentence her to death, and take
our revenge by eating her up through the winter,
after she had been fattened.

■ \

CHAPTER IV.

We begin our preparations for sowing — Gadflies — Mosquitoes
— Harrowing experiences — A huge fly — Sandflies — The
poison of insects and serpents — Winter wheat — The
wonders of plant-life — Our first *' sport" — Woodpeckers—
'♦Chitmunks"— The blue jay— The blue bird— The flight
of birds.

"When we had got our piece of ground all cleared,
except the great ugly stumps, and had got our fence up,
our next job was to get everything ready for sowing.
First of all the ashes had to be scattered, a pro-
cess that liberally dusted our clothes and faces. Then
we brought up the oxen and fastened them by their
chain to the sharp end of a three-cornered harrow,
and with this we had to scratch the soil, as if just to
call its attention to what we wished at its hand. It
was the most solemnly slow work I ever saw, to get
over the ground with our yoke — solemn to all but
the driver, but to him the very reverse. The
shouting and yelling on his part never stopped, as he
iiad to get them round this stump and clear of that |
one. But, if you looked only at the oxen you forgot
the noise in watching whether they moved at all or

Gadflies, 59

not. Elephant would lift his great leg into the air
and keep it motionless for a time, as if he were
thinking whether he should ever set it down again,
and of course, Buckeye could not get on faster than

I jjig mate. I tried the harrowing a little, but I confess

I I didn't like it. We were persecuted by the gadflies,
which lighted on the poor oxen and kept them in
[constant excitement, as, indeed, they well might.

Wherever they get a chance they pierce the skin on

ithe back with a sharp tube, which shuts up and draws

lout like a telescope, at the end of their body, pro-

Itruding an egg through it into the creature attacked,

land this egg, when hatched, produces a grub which

Imakes a sore lump round it and lives in it, till it has

attained its full size, when it comes out, lets itself

Ifall to the ground and burrows in it, reappearing

ftfter a time as a winged gadfly to torment other

ittle. Then there were the long tough roots run-

ling in every direction round the stumps, and

itching the teeth of the harrow every little while,

jiving the necks of the poor oxen uncommon jerks,

^nd needing the harrow to be lifted over them each

ime. There was another trouble also, in the shape

^f the mosquitoes, which worried driver and oxen

like. They are tiny creatures, but they are never-

leless a great nuisance. In the woods in summer, or

^ear them, or, indeed, wherever there is stagnant

rater, they are sure to sound their " airy trump."

1 .11

60 Mosquitoes,

The wonderful quickness of the vibration of their
wings makes a singing noise, which proclaims at
once the presence of even a single tormentor. They
rise in clouds from every pool, and even from the rain-
water barrels kept near houses, where they may be
seen in myriads, in their first shape after leaving the
egg, as little black creatures with large heads, and tails
perpetually in motion, sculling themselves with great
speed hither and thither, but always tail foremost,
A single night is sufficient to change them from this
state, and send them out as fuU-blown mosquitoes, so
that even if there be not one in your room on going
to bed, you may have the pleasure of hearing several
beibre morning, if you are in the habit of indulging
in the luxury of washing in rain-water, or, worse
still, to find your nose, and cheeks, or hands, orna-
mented by itchy lumps, which show that the enemy
has been at you, after all, while you slept. In
Canada they are not half an inch long, and, until]
distended with blood, are so thin as to be nearly in-
visible. Their instrument of torture is a delicate!
sucker, sticking down from the head and looking |
very like a glass thread, the end of it furnished w
sharp edges which cut the skin. I have sometimes I
let one take its wiU of the back of my hand, just
watch it. Down it comes, almost too light to be I
felt, then out goes the lancet, its sheath serving for a
support by bending up on the surface of the skin ill

proportion as t
the little vampj
and his thin,
until, very soor
was when he be
shining through
jjou are not, for
[into the punctu]
land swelling, loi
Ismooth-haired t
(tuste almost as i
2[ot into the woe
|brute, in spite of
with them. Ho]
attacks, and betw
jseen the sides of
' Dey say ebery
me one day ; " ij
|for?" So do I.
declared that he
part of what is
fhe devil ; but wl
ne to settle,
[iuimals by bleedj
vhat Socrates sal
nent of wisdom
[liat, even if we
nay be sure, thai

Mosquitoes, 0|

proportion as the sucker sinks. A sharp prick and
the little vampire is drinking your blood. A minute,
and his thin, shrivelled body begins to get fuller,
until very soon, he is three times the mosquito he
I was when he began, and is quite red with his surfeit
shining through his sides. But, though he is done
you are not, for some poisonous secretion is instilled
into the puncture, which causes pain, inflammation,
and swelling, long after he is gone. We had a little
I smooth-haired terrier which seemed to please their
[taste almost as much as we ourselves did. When it
[got into the woods, they would settle on the poor
Ibrute, in spite of all its efforts, till it was almost black
tv'ith them. Horses and oxen get no rest from their
attacks, and between them and the horse-flies I have
Been the sides of the poor things running with blood.
Dey say ebery ting has some use," said a negro to
me one day ; " I wonder what de mosqueeter's good
|for ?" So do I. A clergyman who once visited us
leclared that he thought they and all such pests were
part of what is meant in the Bible by the power of
[ihe devil ; but whether he was right or not is beyond
le to settle. Perhaps they keep off fevers from
knimals by bleeding them as they do. But you know
vhat Socrates said, that it was the highest attain-
ment of wisdom to feel that we know nothing, so
tliat, even if we can't tell why they are there, we
lay be sure, that, if we knew as much as we might.

A Huge Fly.

we should find that they served some wise pur-
pose. At the same time I have often been right
glad to think that the little nuisances must surely
have short commons in the unsettled districts, where
there are no people nor cattle to torment. >

The harrowing was also my first special introduc-
tion to the horse-flies — great horrid creatures that
they are. They fastened on the oxen at every part,
and stuck the five knives with which their proboscis
is armed, deep into the flesh. They are as large as
honey-bees, so that you may judge how much they
torment their victims. I have seen them make a
horse's flanks red with the blood from their bites,
They were too numerous to be driven off by the long
tails of either oxen or horses, and, to tell the trutli,
I was half afraid to come near them lest they should I
take a fancy to myself. It is common in travelling j
to put leafy branches of maple or some other tre«
over the horses' ears and head to protect them as far |
as possible.

The largest fly I ever saw lighted on the fence, I
close to me, about this time. "We had been frightened
by stories of things as big as your thumb, that!
soused down on you before you knew it, but I never,
before or since, saw such a giant of a fly as this
fellow. It was just like a house-fly magnified a great
many times, how many I should not like to say. I
took to my heels in a moment for fear of instant

Sand-flies. C3

death, and saw no more of it. WTiether it would
have bitten me or not I cannot tell, but I was not at
all inclined to try the experiment.

All this time we have left the oxen pulling away at
the harrow, but we must leave them a minute or two
longer till we get done with all the flies at once.
There is a little black speck called the sand-fly, Avhich
many think even worse than the mosquito. It comes
in clouds, and is too small to ward off*, and its bite
causes acute pain for hours after. But, notwith-
standing gadflies, mosquitoes, horse-flies, and this
last pest, the sand-fly, we were better off" than the
I South American Indians of whom Humboldt speaks,
who have to hide all night three or four inches deep
in the sand to keep themselves from mosquitoes as large
las bluebottles; and our cattle had nothing to contend
[with hke such a fly as the tzetse, which, Dr. Livingstone
Itells us, is found in swarms on the South African rivers,
|a bite of which is certain death to any horse or ox.

How curious it is, by the way, that any poison
fihould be so powerful that the quantity left by the
}ite of a fly should be able to kill a great strong horse
or an ox ; and how very wonderful it is, moreover,
hiat the fly's body should secrete such a frightful
oison, and that it should carry it about in it
ithout itself suffering any harm I Dr. Buckland, of
be Life Guards, was once poisoned by some of the
hnom of a cobra di capello, a kind of serpent, getting

Winter Wheat,

below liis n.iil, into a scratch he had given himseli
with a knife he had used in skinning a rat, which the
serpent had killed. And yet the serpent itself could
have M'hole glands full of it, without getting any
hurt. But if the cobra were to bite its own body it
would die at once. The scorpion can and does sting
itself to death.

When we had got our field harrowed over twice
or thrice, till every part of it had been well scratched
up, and the ashes well mixed with ti- soil, our next
step was to sow it, after which came another harrow-
ing, and then we had only to wait till the harvest next
July, hoping we might be favoured with a good crop.
That a blade so slight as that of young wheat should be
able to stand the cold of the Canadian winter has always
seemed to me a great wonder. It grows up the iirst
year just like grass, and might be mistaken for it
even in the beginning of the following spring. The
snow which generally covers it during the long cold
season is a great protection to it, but it survives even
when it has been bare for long intervals together,
though never, I believe, so strong, after such hardships
suiTered in its infancy. The snow not only protects,
but, in its melting, nourishes, the young plant, so that
not to have a good depth of it is a double evil. But,
snow or not snow, the soil is almost always frozen
like a rock, and yet the tender green blades hve
through it all, unless some thaw during winter expose

The Wonden of Plant-life, 65

the roots, and a subsequent irost seize them, in which
case the plant dies. Large patches in many fields
are thus destroyed in years when the snow is not
deep enough. What survives must have suspended
its life while the earth in which it grows is frozen.
Yet after being thus asleep for months — indeed, more
than asleep, for every process of life must be stopped,
the first breath of spring brings back its vigour, and
it wakes as if it had been growing all the time. How
I wonderful are even the common facts of nature!
I The life of plants I have always thought very much
Our life perishes if it be stopped for a very
I short time, but the beautiful robe of flowers and
Iverdure with which the world is adorned is well nigh
[indestructible. Most of you know the story of Pope's
[weeping willow : the poet had received a present of
, basket of figs from the Levant, and when opening
^t, discovered that part of the twigs of which it was
Diade were already budding, from some moisture
that had reached them, and this led him to plant
bne, which, when it had grown, became the stock
whence all the Babylonian willows in England have
oine. Then we are told that seeds gathered from
eneath the ashes at Pompeii, after being buried for
tghteen hundred years, have grown on being brought
Qce more to the light, and it has often been found
bat others brought up from the bottom of wells,
ihen they were being dug, or from beneath accumu-
[tions of sand, of unknown age, have only to be

\'S\

Woodpeckers,

iitiijil

sown near the siirface to commence instantly to grow.
It is said that wheat found in the coffins of mummies
in Eg}'pt has sprung up freely when sown, but the
proof of any liaving done so is thought by others
insufficient. Yet there is nothing to make such a
thing impossible, and perhaps some future explorer
like Dr. Layard or Mr. Loftus, may come on grains
older still, in Babylon or Nineveh, and give us bread
from the wheat that Nebuchadnezzar or Semiraniis
used to eai.. Indeed, M. Michelet tells us that some
seeds found in the inconceivably ancient Diluvial
drift readily grew on being sown.

During the busy weeks in which we were getting
our first field ready, we boys, though always out of
tioors, were not always at work. Henry used to I
bring out his gun with him, to take a shot at any-
thing he could see, and though there were not venj
many creatures round us, yet there were more when
you looked for them than you would otherwise have
thought. The woodpeckers were the strangest to lis I
among them all. They would come quite nearus,
running up and down the trunks of the trees iii
every way, as flies run over a window-pane. Then)
were three or four kinds : one, the rarest, known bjl
being partly yellow; another, by the feathers on ifil
back having a strange, hairy-like look; the thirds
a smaller bird, about six inches long, but othenvisl
like its hairy relation; the fourth, and commonest, wail
the red-headed woodpecker. This one gets its namtl

JFoodpeckers. 67

from the beautiful crimson of ita head and neck, and
the contrast of this bright colour with the black and
white of its body and wings, and with its black tail,
makes it look very pretty. They would 1 ight on stumps
or trees close to us, running round to the other side till
we passed, if we came very close, and then reappear-
ing the next instant. They kept up a constant tap,
tap, tapping with their heavy bills on the bark of
any tree on which they happened to alight, running
up the trunk, and stopping every minute with
their tail resting on the bark to support them,
and hammering as if for the mere love of the noise.
Every grub or insect they thus discovered, was, in a
moment, caught on their tongue, which was thrust
out for the purpose. Henry shot one of them, after
I missing pretty often, for we were just beginning
1 shooting as well as everything else, and we brought
I it to the house to let my sisters see it, and to have
another look at it ourselves. Being a bit of an
ornithologist, he pointed out to us how the toes were
[four in number — two before and two behind — and
Ihow they were spread out to give the cren iire as
irm a hold as possible of the surface on which it
ras climbing, and how its tail was shaped like a
fedge, and the feathers very strong, to prop it up
(rhile at work. Then there was the great heavy
liead and heavy bill, with the long thin neck, putting
le in mind of a stone-breaker's hammer, with the
iiin handle and the heavy top. But its tongue was^

ChUmunhs,

perhaps, the most curious part of the whole. I !.*?<)
were two long, arched, tendon-like things, which
reached from the tongue round the skull, and passed
quite over it down to the root of the bill at the nos-
trils; and, inside the wide circle thus made, a muscle,
fixed at its two ends, provided the means of thrust-
ing out the tongue with amazing swiflness and to a
great length, just as you may move forwards the top
of a fishing-rod in an instant by pulling the line
which runs from the tip to the reel. My brother
Robert, who was of a religious disposition, could not
help telling us, when we had seen all this, thvat he
thought it just another proof of the wonderful wis-
dom and goodness of God to see how everything
was adapted to its particular end.

One little creature used to give us a great deal
of amusement and pleasure. It was what Nisbet
called a chitmunk, the right name of it being the
ground-squirrel. It was a squirrel in every respect,
except that, instead of the great bushy tail turned up I
over the back, it had a rounded hairy one, which ,
was short and straight, and was only twitched up
and down. The little things were to be seen everj
now and then on any old log, that marked where 3
tree had fallen long before. The moment we looked at
them they would stare at us with their great black eyes,
and, if we moved, they were into some hole in the 1
or over the back of it, and out of sight in an instant!

Chitmtinka,

We all felt kindly disposed towards them, and never
tried to shoot them. I suppose they were looking
for nuts on the ground, as they feed largely on them,
and carry off a great many, as well as stores of other
food in little cheek-pouches which they have, that
they may be provided for in winter. They do not
make their houses, like the other squirrels, in holes
in the trees, but dig burrows in the woods, under
log3, or in hillocks of earth, or at the roots of the
trees, forming a winding passage down to it, and
then making two or three pantries, as I may call
them, at the sides of their nest, or sitting and sleep-
ing-room, for their extra food. They do not often go
[up the trees, but if they be frightened, and can-
not get to their holes, they run up the trunks, and
get from branch to branch with wonderful quickness.
Sometimes we tried to catch one when it would thus go
lup some small, low tree, of which there were numbers
|on the edge of a stream two fields back on our farm ;
but it was always too quick for us, and affcer making
pure I had it, and climbing the tree to get hold of it.
It would be off in some magical way before our eyes
pet us do our best. Then, at other times, we would
ry to catch one in an old log, but with no better
iccess. Henry would get to the one end and I to
le other, and make sure it couldn't get out. It
ilways did get out, however, and all we could do
m to admire its beautiful shape, with the squirrel

in**

70' The Blue Jay.

head, and a soft brown coat which was striped with
black, lengthwise, and its arch little tail, which was
never still a moment.

Some of the birds were the greatest beaaties you
could imagine. We would see one fly into the woods
all crimson, or seemingly so, and perhaps, soon after,
another, which was like a living emerald. They
were small birds — not larger than a thrush — and not
very numerous ; but I cannot trust myself to give
their true names. The blue jay was one of the pret-
tiest of all the feathered folk that used to come and
look at us. What a bright, quick eye it has ! what
a beautiful blue crest to raise or let down as its
pride or curiosity moves it or passes away ! how ex-
quisitely its wings are capped with blue, and barred
with black and white ! and its back — could anything
be finer than the tint of blue on it ? Its very tail
would be ornament enough for any one bird, with
its elegant tapering shape, and its feathers barred so
charmingly with black and white. But we got after-
wards to have a kind of ill-will at the little urchins,
when we came to have an orchard ; for greater thieves
than they are, when the fancy takes them, it would
be hard to imagine. When breeding, they generally
kept pretty close to the woods ; but in September or i
October they would favour the gardens with visits;
and then woe to any fruit within reach ! But jet I
they ate so many caterpillars at times that I suppose
we should not have grudged them a cherry feast

The Blue Bird,

occasionally. I am sure they must be great cox-
combs, small though they be, for they are not much
larger than a thrush, though the length of their tail
makes them seem larger ; they carry their heads so
pertly, like to show themselves off so well, and are
so constantly raising and letting down their beautiful
crest, as if all the time thinking how well they look.
John James A.udubon, the ornithologist, got a num-
ber of them, of both sexes, alive, and tried to carry
them over to England, to -.nake us a present of the
race, if it were able to live in our climate; but
I the poor things all sickened and died on the way.

I must not forget the dear little blue bird, which
[comes all the way from the Far South as early as
March, to stay the summer with us, not leaving till
[the middle or end of November, when he seems to
Ibid a melancholy farewell to his friends, and returns
|to his winter retreat. In the spring and summer
levery place is enlivened with his cheerful song ; but
dth the change of the leaf in October it dies away
ito a single note, as if he too felt sorry that the
Deautiful weather was leaving.
The blue bird is to America very much, in sum-
(ler, what the robin is to us in England in winter —
liopping as familiarly as if it trusted every one, about
he orchards and the fences. Sometimes it builds in
\ hole in an old apple-tree, for generation after gene-
ation; but very often it takes up its abode in little
[ouses built specially for it, and fixed on a high pole,

:1l

n The Flight of Birds,

or on the top of some of the outhouses. We were
sometimes amused to see its kindly ways while the
hen was sitting on the nest. The little husband
would sit close by her, and lighten her cares by sing-
ing his sweetest notes over and over ; and, when he
chanced to have found some morsel that he thought
would please her — some insect or other — he would
fly with it to her, spread his wing over her, and put
it into her mouth. We used to take it for granted
that it was the same pair that built year after year
in the same spot, but I never heard of anything being
done to prove it in any case. In that of other birds,
however, this attachment to one spot has been very
clearly shown. I have read somewhere of copper rings
having been fastened round the legs of swallows, whicli
were observed the year after to have returned, witli
this mark on them, to their former haunts. How is
it that these tiny creatures can keep a note in their
head of so long a journey as they take each autumn,
and cross country after country straight to a place I
thousands of miles distant ? A man could not do it
without all the helps he could get. I lose mjsell
every now and then in the streets of any new citr
I may visit ; and as to making my way across a
whole kingdom without asking, I fear I would malej
only a very zigzag progress. Some courier pigeons,
which one of the Arctic voyagers took to tlie Far
North, on being let loose, made straight for the pla
to which they had been accustomed in Ayrshire, in I

The Flight of Birds, 73

an incredibly short time. Lithgow, the old traveller,
tells us that one of these birds will carry a letter from
Bagdad to Aleppo, which is thirty days' journey at
the Eastern rate of travel, in forty-eight hours, so
that it could have had no hesitation, but must have
flown straight for its distant home. They say that
when on their long flights, they and other birds, such
as swallows, soar to a great height, and skim round
in circles for a time, as if surveying the bearings of
the land beneath them; but what eyes they must
have to see clearly over such a landscape as must
I open at so great an elevation ! and how little, after
all can that help them on a journey of thousands of
1 niiles ! Moore's beautiful verse speaks of the intent-
net'S with which the pigeon speeds to its goal, and
[how it keeps so high up in the air : —

" The dove let loose in eastern skies,
Returning fondly home,
Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies
Where idler warblers roam."

I have noticed that all birds, when on long flight"?,
Beek the upper regions of the air : the ducks aiici.
Bwans, that used to pass over us in the spring, ^o.
jtheir way to their breeding-places in the Arctic
Regions, were always so high that they looked like
Btrings of moving specks in the sky. They always
h in a certain order, the geese in single file, arranged
|ike a great V, the two sides of it stretching far awav
rom each other, but the birds which form the figure

^.f««Ml:^

The Flight of Birds,

never losing their respective places. Some of the
ducks, on the other hand, kept in wedge-shaped
phalanxes, like the order in which Hannibal dis-
posed his troops at the Battle of Cannee. Whether
they fly so high to see better, or because the air is
thinner and gives them less resistance, or to be out
of the reach of danger, or to keep from any tempta-
tion to alight and loiter on their way, it would be hard
to tell, but with all the help which their height can
give them, it has always been a great wonder to me
how they knew the road to take. There must
surely be some senses in such creatures of which we
do not know, or those they have must be very mucl}
more acute than ours. How does a bee find its way
home for miles ? And how does the little humming-
bird — of which I shall speak more hereafter — thread
its way, in its swift arrowy flight, from Canada to
the far South, and back again, each year ? I am afraid
we must all confess that we cannot tell. Our know-
ledge, of which we are sometimes so proud, is a very
poor affair after all.

CHAPTER V.

Some family changes — Amusements — Cow-hunting — Our
" side-line"- -The bush — Adventures with rattlesnakes —
Gaiter-suakes — A frog's flight for life — Black squirrels.

I HAVE talked so long about the farm, and the beasts,

i and birds, that I had almost forgotten to speak of

some chpiiges which took place in our family in the

first summer of our settlement. My eldest sister

had, it seems, found time in Toronto to get in love,

[in spite of having to be mistress of such a household,

[and, of course, nothing could keep her past the week

[fixed for her marriage, which was to take place about

two months after her getting to the River. She

must needs, when the time drew near, get back to

ler beloved, and had to look out her share of the

rniture, &c., to take with her, or rather to send
off before. My eldest brother, Andrew, also, had
cast many wry looks at the thick logs, and at
ais blistered hands, and had groaned through every
mj hot day, maintaining that there would soon
L)e nothing left of him but the bonos. " Melting

loments, girls," he would say to my sisters ; " melt-
ing moments, as the sailor said under the line. I

au't stand this ; I shall go back to England." So

76 Some Family Changes,

he and my eldest sister made it up that he should

take her, and such of her chattels as were not sent

on before, to Toronto, and should leave us under the

charge of Kobert. When the dny came, we all went

down to the wharf with them, and, after a rather

sorrowful parting, heard in due time of the marriage

of the one, and, a good while afterwards — for there

were no steamers in those days across the Atlantic—

of the safe return of the other to England. This

was the first break up of our household in America;

and it left us for a time lonely enough, thongli

there were still so many of us together. We didn't

care much for my sister's leaving, for she would

still be within reach, but it was quite likely ve

should never see Andrew again. I have alwas

thought it was a very touching thing that those who

had grown up together should be separated, after a

few years, perhaps never to meet again. My

brother Robert made a very tender allusion to this I

at worship that night, and moved us all by praying

that we might all of us lead such Christian lives,]

through God's grace, that we might meet again in tlie |

Great Hereafter, ii not in our earthly pilgrimage. He

wound up ;1 e set '/ ice by repeating in his very striking

way — for be recited beaiitifuUy — Burns' touching]

words : —

"And when, at last, ^^e reach that coast,
O'er life's rough ocean driven,
May we rejoice, no wanderer lost j
A family in Heaven."

Amusements,

After our wheat had been sown we had time to
take a little leisure, and what with fishing at the end
of the long wharf by day, and in the canoe, by torch-
light, in the evenings, or strolling through the woods
with our guns or rifles, or practising with the latter
at a rough target made by cutting a broad slice off
a tree, from which we dug out the bullets again to
gave the lead, ihe autumn passe' 1 very pleasantly. Of
course it was not all play. There was plenty more
forest to be cleared, and wo kept at that pretty
steadily, though a half-holiday or a whole one did
not seem out of the way to us. I, as the youngest,
had for my morning and evening's task to go to the
[woods and bring home the cows to be milked, and at
[times, the oxen, when we wanted them for some kind
[of work. The latter were left in the woods for days
together, when we had nothing for them to do, and
[wlien we did bring them in, we always gave them
little salt at the barn-door to try to get them into
|the habit of returning of their own accord. Cattle
find horses in Canada all need to be often indulged
irith this luxury ; the distance from the sea leaving
bardly any of it in the air, or in the grass and other
vegetation. It was sometimes a pleasure to go cow-
liunting, as we called it, but sometimes quite the
reverse. I used to set out, with the dogs for company,
traight up the blazed line at the side of our lot. I
lean, up a line along which the trees had been marked
ky slices cut out of their sides, to show the way to

,ii»«'*'

■«#fea^cf

78 Cow-hunting,

the lots at the back of ours. It was all open for a
little way back, for the post road passed up from the
bank of the river along the side of our farm, for five
or six acres, and then turned at a right angle parallel
with the river again, and there was a piece of tlie
side line cleared for some distance beyond the turn,
After this piece of civilization had been passed, how-
ever, nature had it all to herself. The first twelve
or fifteen acres lay fine and high, and could almost
always be got over easily, but the ground dropped
down at that distance to the edge of a little stream,
and rose on the other side, to stretch away in a dead
level, for I know not how many miles. The stream-
let, which was sometimes much swollen after tliausj
or rains, was crossed by a rough sort of bridge
formed of the cuts of young trees which rested
on stouter supports of the same kind, stretchiDf|
from bank to bank. One of the freshets, however, I
for a time destroyed this easy communication, and
left us no way of crossing till it was repaired, but
either by fording, or by venturing over the trunk cf
a tree, which was felled so as to reach across tie
gap and make an apology for a bridge. It used at
first to be a dreadful job to get over this primitivt
pathway, but I got so expert that I could runovef
it easily and safely enough. The dogp, however,
generally preferred the water, unless when it n\
deep. Then there were pieces of swampy land
farther back, over which a string of felled trees, '

Cow-hunting. 79

beyond the other, offered, again, tlie only passage.
These were the worst to cross, for the wet had gene-
rally taken off the bark, and they often bent almost
into the water with yonr weight. One day, when I
was making my best attempt at getting over one of
these safely, an old settler on a lot two miles back
made his appearance at the farther side.

" Bad roads, Mr. Brown," said I, accosting him,
for every one speaks to every one else in such a place

as that.

"Yes, Mr. Stanley — bad roads, indeed; but it's
nothing to have only to walk out and in. What do
you think it must have been when I had to bring my
furniture back on a sleigh in summer-time ? We
used waggons on the dry places, and then got sleighs
jfor the swamps; and, Mr. Stanley, do you know,
i I'm sure two or three times you hardly saw more of
the oxen for a minute than just the horns. We had
all to go through the water ourselves to get them to
[pull, and even then they stuck fast with our load,
land we had to take it off and carry it on our backs
[the best way we could. You don't know anything
about it, Mr. Stanley. I had to carry a chest of
drawers on my shoulders through all this water, and
every bit that we ate for a whole year, till we got a
rop, had to be brought from the front, the same way,
over these logs."

No doubt he spoke the truth, but, notwithstanding
tis gloomy recollections, it used to be grand fun to

IJIta-'

Cow-hunting.

, „nt when I could not find the cows, or

go b^cK «-««P' ;^ ^j'^, ,^,„,elves be driven lu,.e.

.,e„ they v,ou d no le^ ^ ^^^^^ ,„,

The dogs would b. ott ^^^^ ^^^^ ^,^ ^j^^^

while, though they nev ^^^^_^^

.ould sp.a.h into the wa^w.h_^^^^^^„,,

--^-'^tT;lnlt<»nbenotrn,n>o,e
the mosqmtoes. X"t5i ^^ ^^^^^^

beautiful than the woods t—^^^^^^^^^^

-v""rfi:ro7vit:vUe.anope^^^^^

»thou.md forn>s ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^ „„.

letaintl,-*'™. The tre ^ i^„a. Tkir

b„geous like those in ^^^ V^^^l^ ^^^ «,, higW
beingc.owdedtogethermuks them P

1 ,1 tV>p white and Diue ui j

fo over head, the wh ^^ ^^^ ^^^^^_ ^^^^

„p the openmgs m the ^ heighten^

beauty of the Bc.n ^.^^_ ^^;<^i, .^^

swampy places, to ob ou ^^_^^^

closed in the distance by the clo^ ^^^^^^^ ^

«,^e of these -»-«^! '"' *\f „,„!„ all; the.-
ofothe.s,andthevast.e.gWne^y^^^^

haustless charms of fte ^ ^^^^^ ^^^^.^. ,,

irri^eiressvarietyof^adeandfo™..

i!*: :i

The Bush.

DW8, OT

I In. me.
ry little
or tliey
gambola
it quit of
ng more
lie leaves
varied by
I opening

and \m-
A. Tk!r
far higher
have great
able pilliirs
of of green,
3 sky filling
ives. There

leighten tlie
^ except In
rliicli is only

loser gather-

thickness i

,he fine M
rail; the ex-
■^ of minglei
Ld above; tli«
ere and there
ndformintli*

young trees springing up at intervals ; tlic flowers in
one spot, the rough fretting of fallen and mouldering
trees bright with every tint of fungus, or red with
docay, or decked with mosses and lichens, in others,
and llie graceful outline of broad beds of fern, contrast-
inc with the many-coloured carpet of leaves — made
it delightful to stroll along. The silence that reigns
heightens the pleasure and adds a calm solemnity.
The stroke of an axe can be heard for miles, aii< -^o
may the sound of a cow-bell, as I have somet! .s
found to my sorrow. But it was only when the cows
or oxen could be easily got that I was disposed to
hiiik of the poetry of the journey. They always
ept together, and I knew the sound of our bell at
,ny distance ; but sometimes I could not, by any
stening, catch it, the wearer having perhaps lain
own to chew the cud, and then, what a holloaing
ind getting up on fallen trees to look for them, and
anclering till I was fairly tired. One of the oxen
lad for a time the honour of bearing the bell, but I
iiind, after a while, that he added to my trouble in
ding him and his friends, by his cunning, and we
npferred it to one of the cows. The brute had a
ed dislike to going home, and had learned that the
ikle of the bell was a sure prelude to his being
off, to prevent which, ho actually got shrewd
ugh to hold his head, while resting, in so still a
;y that he hardly made a sound. I have seen him,
len I had at last hunted him up, looking sideways

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Adventured with Rattlesnalees,

at me with his great eyes, afraid for his life to stir
his head lest the horrid clapper should proclaim his
presence. When I did get them they were not
always willing to be driven, and would set off with
their heads and tails up, the oxen accompanying
them, the bell making a hideous clangour, careering
away over every impediment, straight into the woods,
in, perhaps, the very opposite direction to that in
which I wished to lead them. Then for a race to
head them, round logs, over logs, through brush and
below it, the dogs dashing on ahead, where they
thought I was going, and looking back every minute,
as if to wonder what I was about. It was sometimes
the work o%hours to get them home, and sometimes
for days together we could not find them at all.

There is little to fear from wild animals in the
bush in Canada. The deer were too frightened to
trouble us, and, though I have some stories to tell
about bears and wolves, they were so seldom seen
that they did not give us much alarm. But I was
always afraid of the rattlesnakes, especially in the
long grass that grew in some wet places. I never
saw but one, however, and that was once, years after,
when I was riding up a narrow road that had been
cut through the woods. My horse was at a walk,
when, suddenly, it made a great spring to one side,
very nearly unseating me, and then stood looking at
a low bush and trembling in every limb. The next
moment I heard the horrible rattle, and my horse

Adventures with Rattlesnakes,

commenced a set of leaps from one side to the
other, backing all the while, and snorting wildly. I
could not get off, and as little could I get my horse
turned away, so great was his fear. Two men luckily
came up just at this time, and at once saw the cause
of the poor brute's alarm, which was soon ended by
one of them making a dash at the snake with a thick
stick, and breaking its neck at a blow. Henry told
us once that he was chased by one which he had dis-
turbed, and I can easily credit it, for I have seen
smaller snakes get very infuriated, and if one was
alarmed, as in Henry's case, it might readily glide
after him for some distance. However, it fared
badly in the end, for a stick ended its days abruptly.
I was told one story that I believe is true, though
ridiculous enough. A good man, busy mowing in
his field, in the summer costume of hat, shirt, and
boots, found himself, to his horror, face to face with
a rattlesnake, which, on his instantly throwing down
his scythe and turning to flee, sprang at his tails and
fixed its fangs in them inextricably. The next
spring — the cold body of the snake struck against
his legs, making him certain he had been bitten. He
was a full mile from his house, but despair added
strength and speed. Away he flew — over logs, fences,
everything — the snake dashing against him with every
[jump, till he reached his home, into which he
j rushed, shouting, " The snake, the snake ! I'm
bitten, I'm bitten !" Of course they were all alarmed

!i ^4' ■■

Adventures with Eattlesnahes,

commenced a set of leaps from one side to the
other, backing all the while, and snorting wildly. I
could not get off, and as little could I get my horse
turned away, so great was his fear. Two men luckily
came up just at this time, and at once saw the cause
of the poor brute's alarm, which was soon ended by
one of them making a dash at the snake with a thick
stick, and breaking its neck at a blow. Henry told
us once that he was chased by one which he had dis-
turbed, and I can easily credit it, for I have seen
smaller snakes get very infuriated, and if one was
alarmed, as in Henry's case, it might readily glide
after him for some distance. However, it fared
badly in the end, for a stick ended its days abruptly.
I was told one story that I believe is true, though
ridiculous enough. A good man, busy mowing in
his field, in the summer costume of hat, shirt, and
boots, foimd himself, to his horror, face to face with
a rattlesnake, which, on his instantly throwing down
his scythe and turning to flee, sprang at his tails and
fixed its fangs in them inextricably. The next
spring — the cold body of the snake struck against
his legs, making him certain he had been bitten. He
was a full mile from his house, but despair added
strength and speed. Away he flew — over logs, fences,
everything — the snake dashing against him with ever}'
[jump, till he reached his home, into which he
rushed, shouting, " The snake, the snake ! I'm
bitten, I'm bitten !" Of course they were all alarmed

Adventures with Rattlesnakes.

t:i;

,:i.? , • -i^im,

enough, but when they came to examine, the terror
proved to be the whole of the injury suffered, the
snake's body having been knocked to pieces on the
way, the head, only, remaining fixed in the spot at
which it had originally sprung. David and Henry
were one day at work in our field, where there were
some bushes close to a stump near the fence. The
two were near each other when the former saw a
number of yoimg rattlesnakes at Henry's side, and,
as a good joke, for we laughed at the danger, it
seemed so slight, cried out — " Henry 1 Henry I look
at the rattlesnakes !" at the same time mounting the
fence to the highest rail to enjoy Hanry's panic. But
the young ones were not disposed to trouble any one,
so that he instantly saw that he had nothing to fear;
whereas, on looking towards David, there was quite
enough to turn the laugh the other way. " Look
at your feet, David I" followed in an instant, and you
may easily imagine how quickly the latter was down
the outer side of the fence, and away to a safe dis-
tance, when, on doing as he was told, he saw the
mother of the brood poised below him for a spring,
which, but for Henry, she would have made the next
moment.

Pigs have a wonderful power of killing snakes,
their hungry stomachs tempting them to the attack
for the sake of eating their bodies. I don't* know
that they ever set on rattlesnakes, but a friend of mine
saw one with the body of a great black snake, the

Garter Snakes, 83

thickness of his wrist, and four or five feet long,
lying over its back. Monsieur Pig converting the
whole into pork as fast as he could, by vigorously
swallowing joint after joint.

The garter-snake is the only creature of its kind

which is very common in Canada, and very beautiful

and harmless it is. But it is never seen without

getting killed, unless it beat a very speedy retreat

into some log or pile of stones, or other shelter.

The influence of the story of the Fall in the Garden

of Eden is fatal to the whole tribe of snakes, against

every individual of which a merciless crusade is

waged the moment one is seen. The garter-snake

feeds on frogs and other small creatures, as I chanced

to see one day when walking up the road. In a

broad bed of what they call tobacco- weed, a chase

for life or death was being made between a poor frog

and one of these snakes. The frog evidently knew it

was in danger, for you never saw such leaps as it

would take to get away from its enemy, falling into

the weeds, after each, so as to be hidden for a time,

if it had only been able to keep so. But the snake

would raise itself up on a slight coil of its tail, and

from that height search every place with its bright

wicked eyes for his prey, and presently glide off

towards where the poor frog lay panting. Then for

another leap, and another poising, to scan the field.

I don't know how it ended, for I had watched them

till they were a good way off. How the snake would

Garter Snakes,

thickness of his wrist, and four or five feet long,
lying over its back, Monsieur Pig converting the
whole into pork as fast as he could, by vigorously
swallowing joint after joint.

The garter-snake is the only creature of its kind
which is very common in Canada, and very beautiful
and harmless it is. But it is never seen without
getting killed, unless it beat a very speedy retreat
into some log or pile of stones, or other shelter.
The influence of the story of the Fall in the Garden
of Eden is fatal to the whole tribe of snakes, against
every individual of which a merciless crrsade is
waged the moment one is seen. The garter-snake
feeds on frogs and other small creatures, as I chanced
to see one day when walking up the road. In a
broad bed of what they call tobacco-weed, a chase
for life or death was being made between a poor frog
and one of these snakes. The frog evidently knew it
was in danger, for you never saw such leaps as it
would take to get away from its enemy, falling into
the weeds, after each, so as to be hidden for a time,
if it had only been able to keep so. But the snake
would raise itself up on a slight coil of its tail, and
from that height search every place with its bright
wicked eyes for his prey, and presently glide off
towards where the poor frog lay panting. Then for
another leap, and another poising, to scan the field.
I don't know how it ended, for I had watched them
till they were a good way off. How the snake would

\ ,

, ■

■■ ^ *

'■'i

■■■■:1

. : '; '. '\

''^m

.'*■ i\

' 1 '.. ■

r ^

if:

86 Black Squirrels*

ever swallow it, if it caught it, is hard to imagine,
for certainly it was at least three times as thick as
itself. But we know that snakes can do wonderful
things in that way. Why, the cobra di capello, at the
Zoological Gardens, swallowed a great railway rug
some time ago, and managed to get it up again when
it found it could make nothing of it. It is a mercy-
our jaws do not distend in such a fashion, for we
would look very horrible if we were in the habit of
swallowing two large loaves at a time, or of taking
our soup with a spoon a foot broad, which would,
however, be no worse than a garter-snake swallowing
a frog whole. It is amazing how fierce some of the
small snakes are. I have seen one of six or eight
inches in length dart at a walking-stick by which it
had been disturbed, with a force so great as to be
felt in your hand at the farther end. Homer, in the
Iliad, says that Menelaus was as brave as a flj,
which, though so small, darts once and again in a
man's face, and will not be driven away ; but he
might have had an additional comparison for his hero
if he had seen a snake no thicker than a pencil
charging at a thick stick held in a man's hand.

"We had very pleasant recreation now and then,
hunting black squirrels, which were capital eating.
They are much larger than either the grey or the
red ones, and taste very much like rabbits, from
which, indeed, it would be hard to distinguish them
when they are on the table. Both they and the

Black Squirrels, 87

ffrey squirrel are very common, and are sometimes
great pests to the farmer, making sad havoc with his
Indian corn while green, and with the young wheat.
In Pennsylvania this at one time came to such a
pitch that a law was passed, offering threepence
a-head for every one destroyed, which resulted, in
1749, in 8000Z. being paid in one year as head-
money for those killed. Their great numbers some-
times develope strange instincts, very different from
those we might expect. From scarcity of food, or
some other unknown cause, all the squirrels in a
large district will at times take it into their heads to
make a regular migration to some other region.
Scattered bodies are said to gather from distant
points, and marshal themselves into one great host,
which then sets out on its chosen march, allowing
nothing whatever — h^ it mountain or river — ^to stop
them. We ourselves had proof enough that nothing
in the shape of water, short of a lake, could do
it. Our neighbours agreed in telling us that, a
few years before we came, it had been a bad summer
for nuts, and that the squirrels of all shades had
evidently seen the perils of the approaching winter,
and made up their minds to emigrate to more
favoured lands. Whether they held meetings on
the subject, and discussed the policy to be pursued,
was not known; but it is certain that squirreldom
at large decided on a united course of action.
Having come to this determination, they gathered,

..i!

Ill

;,f ':

.!H,|.; "

m:'

■; \

f * I

98 Black Squirrels,

it appears, in immense numbers, in the trees at the
water's edge, where the river was at least a mile
broad, and had a current of about two miles an
hour, and, without hesitation, launched off in thou,
sands on the stream, straight for the other side.
Whether they all could swim so far, no one, of
course, could tell; but vast numbers reached the
southern shore, and made for the woods, to seek
there the winter supplies which had been deficient in
the district they had left. How strange for little
creatures like them to contrive and carry out an
organized movement, which looked as complete and
deliberate as the migration of as many human
beings ! What led them to go to the south rather
than to the north? There were no woods in sight
on the southern side, though there were forests
enough in the interior. I think we can only come
to the conclusion, which cannot be easily confuted,
that the lower creatures have some faculties of which
we have no idea whatever.

The black squirrels are very hardy. You may
see them in the woods, even in the middle of winter,
when their red or grey brethren, and the little ground
squirrels, are not to be seen. On bright days, how-
ever, even these more delicate creatures venture out,
to see what the world is like, after their long seclu-
sion in their holes in the trees. They must gather a
large amount of food in the summer and autumn to
be sufficient to keep them through the long months

Black Squirrels, 89

of cold and firost, and their diligence in getting ready
in time for the season when their food is buried out
of their reach, is a capital example to us. They
carry things from great distances to their nests, if
food be rather scarce, or if they find any delicacy
worth laying up for a treat in winter. When the
wheat is ripe they come out in great numbers to get
a share of the ears, and run off with as many as
they can manage to steal.

■■»!'

CHAPTER VI.

Spearing fish — Ancient British canoes — Indian ones— A
bargain with an Indian — Henry*B cold bath — Canadian
thunderstornia — Poor Yorick's death — Our glorious au-
tumns — The change of the leaf— Sunsets— Indian summer
— ^Tlie fail rains and the roads — The first snow — Canadian
cold — A winter landscape — "Ice-storms" — Snow cryatali
—The minute perfection of God's works — Deer- shooting-.
David's misfortune — Useless cruelty — Shedding of the
stag's horns.

Spearing fish by moonlight was a great amusement
with us in the beautiful autumn evenings. We had
bought a canoe from an Indian for eight dollars, I
think — that is, about thirty-two shillings, and it
formed our boat on these occasions. Perhaps, how-
ever, before speaking of our adventures on tlie
waters, I had better describe this new purchase, and
the scene of its transference to our hands, which was
as curious as itself. It was made out of a long cut
of a black walnut-tree, which had been burned
and hollowed to the required depth, breadth, and
length, and had then been shaped, outside, by an axe,
to the model proposed. They are generally quite
light, but ours was, to other canoes, what a ship's
boat is to a skiiF. It must have taken a long time
to finish, but time is of no value to an Indian.

spearing FUX» 91

Indeed, the longer anything takes him the better, as
it gives him at least something to do, when, otherwise,
he would likely have relapsed into total idleness.
There is no keel on canoes, but only a roimd bottom,
and the ends are sharp and both alike. Of course,
such a vessel has a natural facility at roUing, and
needs only the slightest aid on your part to turn in
the water like a log, so that safety depends very
much on your being steady, and not leaning, under
any circumstances, to either side. In some parts of
Canada they are made of the tough, light bark of the
birch tree, which is sewed into a long sheet, and
stretched over a light but strong framework of the
desired shape. Before using it, the bark is tho-
roughly soaked in oil to make it waterproof. When
finished, such a canoe is really elegant, rising high
into a wide circular form at the ends, which are
made very sharp to cut the water easily. I have
seen them beautifully finished, with differently
coloured porcupine quills worked into the edges, and
fanciful designs at the ends. They are so light that
one which will hold twenty men weighs only a few
hundred-weight, and can be easily carried by three
or four men. Then, they are so elastic that they
yield to blows which would break a canoe of wood.
When they do get an injury, it is amusing to see
how easily they are mended. You can darn them
like a stocking, or patch them like a shoe, using
wire, however, instead of thread, and making all

99 Spearing FUh,

tight by a coating of the resinous matter got from
the red pine. The ingenuity that invented such a
refinement on the common canoe, as is shown in the
birch-bark one, is enough to redeem the character of
the Indian from the low estimate of his mechanical
powers sometimes heard. If we wonder at the con-
trast between such vessels at their best and our
beautiful boats and ships, we must remember that our
ancestors could boast of nothing better than these
Indians make to-day. In both Scotland and Eng-
land, canoes have been often found in draining a lake,
or in excavations near streams, or near the sea-shore,
where bogs or other causes have covered the ancient
Bur&ce of the ground. One was discovered some years
since at the foot of the Ochill hills, many feet under
a bog, and not very far from it there was found the
skeleton of a small whale, with the head of a harpoon
sticking in its backbone. Others, foimd elsewhere, are
preserved in various public and private museums.
It is striking to think from such discoveries as these,
and from what we know of the boats of savage
nations generally over the world, how nearly men of
all ages when placed in the same position, when
they are at similar stages of civilization, resemble
each other in their thoughts and contrivances to
meet the common wants of life. All over the world
hoUow trees have been used for the first steps of
navigation, and the birch-bark canoe still finds a
representative in the coracle which the Welsh fisher-

Spearing Fish. 03

man carries home on his back ailcr using it, as his
ancestors have done for generation after generation,
while the Greenlander goes to sea in his light kaiack
of deal-skin, as the polished inhabitant of Babylon,
as Herodotus tells us, used to float his goods down
the Great River in round boats made of skins
stretched on a frame of wicker-work.

Instead of oars, the canoe is propelled by paddles,

which are short oars, with a broader blade. They

are held in both hands, so that a single person has

only one to work instead of having one in each hand,

as with oars, when alone in a boat. An Indian in a

canoe, if by himself, sits at the end, and strikes his

paddle into the water at each side alternately, every

now and then putting it out behind as a rudder, to

turn himself in any particular direction. The one

we bought was, as I have said, far too heavy for

comfortable use, and was sold to us, I believe, for

that reason. It was worse to paddle it empty than

to paddle a proper one full of people — at least we

came to think so ; but we knew no better at first than

to like it for its massiveness, never thinking of the

weight we should have to push through the water.

The price, however, was not very great, though

more than would have got us a right one, had we

kno^^'n enough. The Indian who sold it to us

paddled up with it, with his wife in it with him, one

I morning, his dress being a dirty printed calico

shirt, and a pair of cloth leggings; her's, the never-

tun

I;' i,

I'M

m.^'

94 Speariuff Fish,

failing blanket, and leggings, like those of her
husband. They were both rather elderly, and bv
no means attractive in appearance. Robert and the
rest of us happened to be near the fence at the river
side at the time; and as the Indian came up, he
saluted him, as is usual, with the words, " Bo' jour,"
a corruption of the phrase, " Bon jour," indicating
curiously the extent of the old French dominion in
America — every Indian, in any part, understanding,
or, at least, acknowledging, it. A grunt on the part
of our visitor conveyed his return of the courtesy,
and was presently followed by, " C'noo, sell, good—
you buy?" Robert, thus addressed, willingly
enough entered into temptation, having determined,
some time before, to buy one. Like everyone else
in Canada, he seemed naturally to think that bad
English makes good Indian, and pursued the
dialogue somewhat as follows: — Robert — "Good
c'noo?" Indian, with a grunt, "Good," making
sundry signs with his hands, to show how it skimmed
the water, and how easily it could be steered, both
qualities being most sadly deficient, as he must
have known. Robert — "What for you ask?"
Indian, holding up eight fingers, and nodding to-
wards them, "dollar," making, immediately after, an
imitation of smoking, to stand for an additional value
in tobacco. Robert — "Why you seU?" Indian-
No answer, but a grunt, which might either hide a
wish to decline a diflicult question, by pretending

'. ^

ill

ignorance, or

followed mor

treasure he wj

hopeless to g(

but grunts ai

lowing a nun

bargain was s

and the tobacc

ing in their si

getting a canoe

men to propel i

It was with

spearing expedii

old times to h(

with three pron

apparatus requi

bows of the cai

in it, threw a

water. Only v(

was any ripple

was perfectly ci

it a-fire, one oj

light, spear in

another seated

and, with the h

the shallow edj

' seen a number

I but in very deeJ

quickly enough,

Spearing Fish, 95

ijmorance, or anything else we like to suppose. Then
followed more dumb-show, to let us know what a
treasm-e he was parting with. My brother found it
hopeless to get any information from him, nothing
but grunts and an odd word or two of English fol-
lowing a number of inquiries. After a time the
bargain was struck, and having received the money
and the tobacco, he and his spouse departed, laugh-
ing in their sleeve, I dare say, at their success in
getting a canoe well sold which needed two or tb :ee
men to propel it at a reasonable rate.

It was with this affair we used to go out on our
spearing expeditions. A cresset, like those used in
old times to hold watchmen's lights, and a spear
with three prongs and a long handle, were all the
apparatus required. The cresset was fixed in the
bows of the canoe, and a knot of pitch-pine kindled
in it, threw a bright light over and through the
water. Only very still nights would do, for if there
was any ripple the fish could not be seen. When it
was perfectly calm we filled our cresset, and setting
it a-fire, one of us would take his place near the
light, spear in hand, standing ready to use it ; and
another seated himself at the stiirn with a paddle,
and, with the least possible noise, pushed off along
the shallow edge of the river. The fish could be
seen a number of feet down, resting on the bottom ;
but in very deep water the spear could not get down
quickly enough, while the position of the fish itself

lit

Spearing Msh,

was changed so much by the refraction of the light
that it was very hard to hit it even if we were not
too slow. The stiUness of the nights — the beauty of
the shining skies — ^the delicious mildness of the
autumnal evenings — the sleeping smoothness of the
great river — the play of light and shade from our
fire — the white sand of the bottom, with the forms of
the fish seen on it as if through coloured crystal—
and the excitement of darting at them every fe^
yards, made the whole delightful. At first we
always missed, by miscalculating the position of our
intended booty; but, after going out a few times
with John Courtenay, a neighbour, and noticing how
much he allowed for the difference between the real
and the apparent spot for which to aim, we got the
secret of the art, and gradually managed to become
pretty good marksmen. There was an island in the
river, at the upper end of which a long tongue of
shallow bottom reached up the stream, and on this
we found the best sport : black bass, pike, herrings,
white-fish, cat-fish, sun-fish, and I don't know what
else, used to fall victims on this our best preserve.
I liked almost as well to paddle as to stand in the
bows to spear the fish, for watching the spearsman
and looking down at the fish kept you in a flash of
pleasant excitement all the time. Not a word was
spoken in the canoe, but I used to think words
enough. " There's a great sun-fish at the right
hand, let me steer for it;" and silently the paddle

Henrfs Cold BaiL 97

would move us towards it, my brother motioning me
with his hand either to hold back or turn more this
way, or that, as seemed necessary. "I wonder if
he'll get him!" would rise in my mind, as the spear
was slowly poised. "Will he dart off?" "He
moves a little — ah ! there's a great pike ; make a dart
j^thim — whew, he's gone!" and, sure enough, only
the bare ground was visible. Perhaps the next was
a white-fish, and in a moment a successful throw
would transfix it, and then, the next, it would be in
the bottom of the canoe. But it was not always
piain sailing with us, for Henry was so fierce in his
thrusts at first, that, one night, when he made sure of
getting a fine bass he saw, he overbalanced himself
with a jerk, and went in along with the spear, head
over heels. The water was not deep enough to do
him any harm, but you may be sure we did not fish
any more that night. Picking himself up, the un-
fortunate wight vented his indignation on the poor

, which, by most extraordinary logic, he blamed
for his calamity. I couldn't for the world help
laughing; nor could Henry himself, when he had
I got a little over his first feelings of astonishment and
1 mortification.

The quantity of fish that some can get in a night's
[spearing is often wonderful. I have watched Cour-
Itenay, on a night when fish were plenty, lifting them

[from the water almost eVery minute, though very
Ifew were larger than herrings, and he had only their

-J. Canadian Thnnderntorru.

• In Bome parts of Canada
baokB at which to aim. ^^^ ^ ^^^ ^aters-the

there was ^'^he^ g»™« ^ Urge as o«r «.lmo.,

-* a V-'i^'^^l ;„„!, „ot boast. It r.^
a pn^e of "l*""^ / „rey out of the water, tat
be hard work to get such prey ^^^

■I '*■ \a the more excuiug *° i

the harder it is Indians in some

those who are 't^-^g J^f^^ „„ ,^, feh they get in
districts Ure to a great extent o

this way. mpak of the thunder

,, .a almost J^o^;^^-^^^_„,„

and lightning -'^^<^'^]^'' \^^ ^ „„<,h ^ fte-
hottest summer weatue . .^ ^^

qnent in Canada than m Bnjm ^ ^^^^^^^

co-,ito««-o-;»X^taa.eryfewn>in*

*""' ''Te'^ tl -1 -» «'"-*^ "" '"
^ere sufficient ^ x« ^^^ ^^ ^^^

every slope m *« J house, we found it «

had a garden -n front of ^^ .^ ^^^ ,.

. almost impossible to keep ^ ^^ ^^

violence of the rams. ^^^'Jj^^^ ^nd ^W

,„pt on finding -Y^t^'eTt ^^^t of the «dv.
it aU with grass, to the great a g .

..homitwas^^e--;— :^,„^.,.

■""^^•^ "" 't a— shower, and in the %
light patter of - ^^^ ^^^^^. ^^, there are U-
drops that dance on the ^rou ,

Canadian Thunderstorms*

ferences in this as in other kinds. I have stood

sometimes below the green branches in the woods

when a thin cloud was dropping its wealth on theniy

and have been charmed by the murmur. But the

heavy rain that came most frequently in the hot

weather, falling as if through some vast cullender,

was more solemn, and filled you with something like

awe. It was often accompanied by thunder and

lightning, such as those who live in. cooler climates

seldom hear or see. The amount of the electricity

h the atmosphere of any country depends very much

on the heat of the weather. Captain Grahame, who

had commanded a frigate on the East India station,

told me once, when on a short visit, that, in the

Straits of Malacca, he had to order the sails to be

furled every day at one o'clock, a thunderstorm

coming on regularly at that hour, accompanied with

wind so terrible that the canvas of the ship would

often have been torn into ribbons, and knotted into

bard lumps, if he had not done so. Thunderstorms

are not so exact nor so frequent in Canada, but they

came too oflen in some years for my taste. I was

startled out of my sleep one night by a peal that

must have burst within a few yards of the l^ouse,

the noise exceeding anything I ever heard before or

smce. You don't know what thunder is till a cloud

is fired that way at your ear. Our poor dog Yo-

rick, which we had brought from England with us,

was so terrified at the violence of the storms that

H 2

B»BliiirH£CA

irfr

1* ^

100 Canadian Thunderstorm.

in through any open W^' ^ tffl all was qniet
and hide Wmself under the h^ ^.^ ^

He lost his life at 1-*- PO- ^-;' J' J ,,„,,,
,„, at thunder, for one day when :

the windows and ^»- ''^^^ L, and coding
.ushed into the wood mh« mo ^^^^^^^__^

on the Bhanty of a Better, flew i ^^

-'^"^Trhrr:fk-Sthefac.of..

owner ol the house, not ^^^^ ^^

«-• -*"^S ::/ for:!:^ tutsan end to HU
dog was mad, and lo ^^ ^

eould hardly blame hi, W- ^^^.„,, ,, ^

,r,ere «; 7»^:';:',*i *at goes before
darkness a.d solemn hud.^ ^^^ ^^ ^

one of these storms^ It^- ^^^^^^ ^^^
things were stopped. The ^^.^^

there is not a breath of wmd , ^e b. ^^^

i„ the forest, or fly lj,^n-0;^^^^^,. ,

^^'' ^1 IthCt-a knew of the impen..
seems as if aU things <^ ^^^^

T never was more awed m my ui«,
terrors. I never w ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^^^y.

than at the sight of the i^ the first

^f Tidfnrp one aiternoou,
i„g suspense of nature ^^^ ^^^^^ ^

,„n.mer we were on the^ ^^ ^„^^„^„

not burst, but it lay "^ *^ ^ ^„i„„ w

clouds, of a strange, unearthly look and

Canadian TAunderstorma,

101

came down to within a very short distance of the
earth. Not a sound broke the awful silence; the
wind, as well as all things else, was still, and yet the
storm-clouds moved steadily to the south, apparently
only a very few yards higher than the trees. The
darkness was like that of an eclipse, and no one
could have said at what instant the prison of the
lightnings and thunders would rend above him and
envelope him in its horrors. I could not, dared not
stir, but stood where I was till the great grey masses,
through which it seemed as if I could see the shim-
mer of the aerial fires, had sailed slowly over to the
other side of the river, and the light, in part,
returned.

The lightning used to leave curious traces of its
visits in its effects on isolated trees all round. There
was a huge pine in a field at the back ^f the house
that had been its sport more than once. The great
top had been torn off, and the trunk was split into
ribbons, which hung far down the sides. Many
others which I have seen in different parts had been
ploughed into deep furrows almost from top to
bottom. The telegraph-posts, since they have been
erected, have been an especial attraction. I have
I seen fully a dozen of them in one long stretch split
up, and torn spirally, through their whole length,
[by a flash which had struck the wire and run along
lit. That more people are not killed by it seems
Ivonderful; yet there are many accidents of this

102 Our Gloriottt AnUmM.

* 11 In the first 01 second year of our
kind, after all. In «« „;„, „p ^

«ttlement a widow l^dy;^^;^^,^, ^^^^ ;„ „ ,tonn,
river, was found dead in he^^ others peridiing
and we afterwards heard of several

in the same way. lightning in

Canada, and *« P'«<=«';" Egyptians when Mo».
lets- one sympathise with the l-gy P ^^^^^

«ent down a similar "--tion on *em^ ^^^ _^.^^

.eading of f ^^'^^ ^j^^^^ were, some o.

of hot weather, *e P--^ ^eath to any one

them, a pound weigh*, «J^^„ suchasizein

they might ^^\^^^^^, ,, ^^ bad enough ^

Canada hut u^^*»^ Theymustta

r t^rcwCng whirled up, by some c»-
rSrai-uchaUtas freezes its conten.

even in the heat of summer.

"ke weather in the faU was ^^^^^^^^^^

«.inl., than in any other ---^f^fj ,, ,,,^

i—^T*^«^;7i'pthS it aside. B,

.Ms s.^n >-- - f ^711 eloudless, and *e
after day was bright and ^^.^^ ^^

heat had passed into a batoy m ,

the very feeUng of being alive a piea

the very ^^^j^e landscape beautifiJ. Th

thing combined to make t .^ ^^^^^^

g^eat resplendent -- ^^^ol, J, „f .ol«

ecarce to ""-'^-f ^^^ , ^. ^d white sails, »a
Blver, on which clouds, and sky, ana

Our Glorious Autumns,

103

even the farther banks, with the houses, and fields,

and woods, fafr back from the water, were painted as

in a magic mirror — was a beautiful sight, of which

we never tired ; like the swans in St. Mary^s Loch,

which, Wordsworth says, "float double, swan and

shadow," we had ships in as well as on the waters;

and not a branch, nor twig, nor leaf of the great trees,

nor of the bushes, nor a touch in the open landscape,

was awanting, as we paddled along the shores, or

looked across.

And what shall I say of the sunsets? Milton

says —

" Now came still evening on, and twilight grey
Had in her sober livery all things clad."

But this would not do for some of those autumn days.
The yellow light would fill earth, and air, and sky.
The trees, seen between you and the setting sun, were
shining amber, in trunk, and branch, and leaf; and
the windows of neighbours' houses were flaming
gold ; while here and there branches on which the
sun shone at a diflerent angle seemed light itself;
and in the distance the smoke rose purple, till, while
you gazed, the whole vision faded, and faded, through
every shade of green and violet, into the dark-blue
of the stars.

By the beginning of September the first firosts had
touched the trees, and the change of colour in the
leaves at once set in. It is only when this has taken
place that the forests put on their greatest beauty ;

S^^

ll'

.'•I

l„4 The Change of the leaf.

though, indeed, a feeUng » »^^ ^„„ected „

eiuted «ith the«. »— "^^^ ""J .t,' dolphin. »iU.
.hey are, liice the la,t cc^" o^^^^ ^^ ^^^^ ^
thought, of decay and death. .^^^^^^

the change had —"<=!"• J,i„, J beech, the

Each icind of ^'^^ j'^Ja, above ail, the mapl.

Athebirch,the^aln^--^^ ^^^j„^^,y. ^,^„

__had its own hue, and e^^.ry ^^^^^^^ ^^^ ^^

there were the solemn p.ne., a ^^^^^^^

a.,, setting off the cl«rm.o*e^«^^^

,, their .ber^--^^^^^^,,«„,. colour,^
,noBt black. The n. P ^^^^.^^_ j„ j^ gofc

»ained, throughout the .^ ^_^^ ^^^^^ ^

yeUow and crimson. JMo ^^^ ^^

and green, ye ow, and jarie ^^ ^^^_^^^ ^___^

Bhade of transition. Butw^ ^hen every leaf 1«1

they became after » time^ ^^^ ^,j

something ot its oay Wpnded together into

others. Yonder, the co o-- ^>«^\ ,^^ „, ^

pint of the brightest tint , hen c.^ ^^^ ^

Ld blue, and, -^y/^ f ^J, " ^7, and humble
i^et, of glowing red go^d. ^^ ^^.^^ ^^^

undergrowth, and «« --F ^,^

the magic -fl-^-^tottwfd from the light, till

;rj:rrtr::::.ofsomefa^.e.

Indian Summer.

105

The stmsets, as the year deepened into winter,
frrew, I thought, if possible, more and more glorious.
Til'' light suhlc behind mountains of gold and purple,
and shot up its siJendours, from beyond, on every bar
and fleck of cloud, to the zenith. Then came the slow
advance of night, with the day retreating from before
it to the glorious gates of the west, at first in a flush
of crimson, then in a flood of amber, till at last, with
a lingering farewell, it lefl us in paler and paler green.
I have seen every tree turned into gold as I looked
aiross the river, as the evening fell. Milman speaks,
in one of his poems, of the " golden air of heaven."
Such sights as these sunsets make the image a
reality, and almost involuntarily lead one, as he gazes
on the wide glory that rests on all things, to think
how beautiful the better world must be if this one
be 80 lovely.

The Indian summer came with the end of October
I and lasted about ten days, a good deal of rain having
fallen just before. While it lasted, it was deliciously
mild, like the finest April weather in England. A
[goft mist hung over the w. ole panorama round us,
[inellowing everything to a peculiar spiritual beauty.
[The sun rose, and travelled through the day, and set,
behind a veil of haze, through which it showed like
I great crate of glowing embers. As it rose, the haze
[eddened higher and higher up the sky, till, at noon,
he heavens were like the hollow of a vast half-

Qsparent rose, shutting out the blue. It was like

n Qg Indian Summer.

at the s™ .t any ^^-^ ^^de more lovely. What
not destroyed, but rather ma ^^^^

^''^rtT'or^r-.estsone^..,
been able to find out. un ^^ .^ ^^

and another somethmg else, but ^^^^^^^^^

body knew the true reason of, ^ J ^^^ ^^

^'^"-V-tth^itu it:-thbythe..

rtirthe— rand autumn heats are,,
frosts, while the ^^^^^ ^ ^^ ,„

great enough in the sou i

abundance. _^ ^^^^^ the first

• Until before and after tne inui«

, V.U heralds of winter visited us, in tk
unmistakeable heralds o

,.ape of morning ^^ar-^O'^ J^ ^ J

- the day advance ^ t ^^^^^ ^^ ^^ ^^^^^^,^.

tiful to look at It, m ^^.^^ ^^^^^ ^

Tt ri^t^uiroldered over the.,.-
the trees, to ^^^tt-red, or dark-hro...

^*^^"L:th"---^-°^-"''^"-

or green of others, tn ,jj^^^_ ^^,

^,ved, looked charming m the ex ^^^

only the leaves, l^t the ^™nk^ and ^ ^^^ ^^^^^^

,g,itest sprays, - « ^^^^^^^ ,,,,b, it seeded »
fl,„, till, as f» ;; ; J^^^;„„ had happened m*

"" r Ta m ct "y f-ture had been nio*a«
night, and a >» « j, ^j^^ scene when k

white, lint wl'^t ^'^'^ ^ "^^^ "

The Fall Bains and the Roads, 107

sun came up in the east, to have his look at it as well
as we ? What rainbow tints of every possible shade I
what diamond sparkling of millions of crystals at
once ! It was like the gardens of Aladdin, with the
trees bending under their wealth of rubies, and
sapphires, and all things precious. But the spectacle
was as short-lived as it was lovely. By noon, the
last trace was gone.

The autumnal rains are of great value to the
farmers and the country generally, by filling the
^vells and natural reservoirs, so as to secure a plen-
tiful supi)ly of water for winter, and thus they were
welcome enough on this ground to most, though we,
with the river at hand, could have very well done
without them. But, in their effects on the roads,
tliey were a cause of grief to all alike. Except near
towns, the roads all through Canada were, in those
days, what most of them are, even yet, only mud ;
and hence you may judge their state after long-con-
tinued tropical rains. All I have said of our journey
j to the river in the early summer, might, be repeated
, of each returning fall. Men came to the house every
[day or two to borrow an axe or an auger, to extem-
porize some repair of their broken-down waggons or
Teliicles. One pitchy night I came upon two who were

intensely busy, by the light of a lantern, mending a
haggon, with the help of a saw, an auger, an axe,
land a rope. Of course, I stopped to ofl'er assistance,
Ikt I had come only in time to be too late, and was

noR ne Fall Eui^""^'^ *'" ^"'^'■

v.»1n was not wanted. "AU'BrigU
answered that n,y hdp^-s n ^.^^ ^^^ ^^

-*'^t °° Xr/- got then., and let. go
T ;-"■ As tXnl f» n.y offer, it would ha.
a-head. ^^ * jthem. They had cobbled

been extravagant to exp ^^^^ ^^ .^^ ^^^

*^^^'^*^"^^'i:i To i had happened. T^e
darkness as coolly as n fa ^^^ ^^^^^_

^"^-^"^rXlLXldLtoeneo-e,
lations of the ^-k-conn^y ^^^ ^ ^.^^^ ^^

which they carry an axe ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^

i,;„v, are eenerally enouj,
rope, which are g ^^^^ it is amusing to ta

wheelwright «"g«Y„difference they treat misadven-
.UWhatperf^c -diff ^^^^^ ^^ ,,

tures which -^^f J , ^^n whom I «t

Countryman 1 i^i<,i^ uthe namefor

patching up h. hgHt wag^o ^^ ^. ^^_

afour-wheeled gig-settmg .^^^^^ „f t„el,

count of his tri"™P'^-7„t trt on to assure*

" I »-- --^ .^l^tlggy -d the tire of one of ..
„ Once 1 was m my buggy ^^^ ^^^^

some miles to try ^ ^^^^ ^ rail

-lc^ri;=rirLrn:r,and:..

-itxrrch^---;;

-l-*-7^°t::e\'S ncetosuchofthe..
but the mud was a sore ton j^„yattemp

gregation as could not come by wa^er. )^ j

The Fall Rains and the Roads.

3 09

Qt two

e river,
he con-
attempt

at week-night meetings of any kind was, of course,
out of the question. We were pretty nearly close pri-
soners till the frost should come to relieve us.

As in many other cases, however, this first step

towards cure was almost worse than the disease.

The i'rost often came in bitter fierceness for some

time before any snow fell, and, then, who shall sing in

sad enough strains the state of the roads ? Imagine

mile after mile of mud, first poached into a long

honeycomb by the oxen and horses, and cut into

loD'^itudinal holes by the wheels, then frozen, in this

state, in a night, into stone. I once had to ride

nearly sixty miles over such a set of pitfalls. My

brother, Frederic, was with me, but he had slipped

in the stable and sprained his shoulder so that I had

almost to lift him into the saddle. He came with me

to lead back my horse at the sixty miles' end, where

the roads permitted the stage to run for my further

journey. We were two days on the way, and such

days. The thermometer was below zero, our breath

ifroze on our eyelashes every minute, and the horses

had long icicles at their noses, and yet we could only

[stumble on at a slow walk, the horses picking their

; with the greatest difiiculty, and every now and

then coming down almost on their knees. Sometimes

;e got so cold we had to get off and walk with the

)ri(iles on our arms ; and then there was the getting

'rederic mounted again. I thought we should never

|et to the end of the first day's ride. It got dark

U^'

■I;

lie TAe First Snow.

long before we reached it, and we were afraid to sit
any longer on the horses, so that we finished it by
groping in the pitchy darkness, as well as we could,
for some miles. . . ^ » ;

The first snow fell in November, and lay, that year,
from that time until April. The climate has become
much milder since, from the great extent of the
clearings, I suppose, so that snow does not lie, now-
a-days, as it did then, and does not begin for nearly
a month later. I have often heard Canadians de-
ploring the change in this respect, as, indeed, they
well may in the rougher parts of the country, for the
winter snow, by filling up the holes in the roads and
freezing the wet places, as well as by its smooth
surface, enables them to bring heavy loads of all
kinds to market, from places which are wholly shut
up at other seasons, if they had the leisure to employ
in that way, at any other, which they have not. The
snow is consequently as welcome in Canada as the
summer is elsewhere, and a deficiency of it is a heavy
loss. When we first settled, the quantity that fell
was often very great, and as none melted, except
during the periodical thaw in January, the accumu-
lation became quite formidable by spring. It was
never so bad, however, by any means, as at Quebec,
where the houses have flights of steps up to the
doors to let folks always get in and out through tlie
winter, the doors being put at high snow-mark, if I
may so speak. I have sometimes seen the stumps

Canada in Winter,

111

quite hidden and the fences dwarfed to a very Lilli-
putian height; but, of late years, there have been
some winters when there has hardly been enough to
cover the ground, and the wheat has in many parts
been killed, to a large extent, by the frost and thaws,
which it cannot stand when uncovered. People in
Britain often make great mistakes about the appear-
ance of Canada in winter, thinking, as I remember
we did, that we should have almost to get down tp
our houses through the snow for months together.
The whole depth may often, now-a-days, in the
open country, be measured by inches, though it still
keeps up its old glory in the bush, and lies for
months together, instead of melting off in a i&^ days,
as it very frequently does, round the towns and
cities. I remember an account of the Canadian
climate given by a very witty man, now dead. Dr.
Dunlop, of Lake Huron, as the report sent home re-
specting it by an Englishman to his friends, whom
he informed, that for four months in the year you
were up to the neck in mud ; for four more, you
were either burned up by the heat or stung to death
by mosquitoes, and, for the other four, if you
managed to get your nose above the snow it was only
to have it bitten off by the frost. All the evils thus
arrayed are bad enough, but the writer's humour
joined with his imagination in making an outrageous
j caricature when he spoke thus. A Frenchman,
\^T:iting about England, would, perhaps, say as much

112

Climate in America,

against its climate, and, perhaps, with a nearer ap-
proach to truth. I remember travelling with one in
the railway from Wolverhampton to London on a
very bad day in winter, whose opinion of the English
climate was, " cleemate, it's no cleemate — it's only
yellow fogue." Robert Southey, as true an English-
man as ever lived, in the delightful letters published
in his life, constantly abuses it in a most extraor-
dinary way, and I suppose there are others who
abuse that of every other country in which they
chance to live. We can have nothing just as we
would like it, and must always set the bright side
over against the dark. For my part, I think that,
though Canada has its charms at some seasons, and
redeeming points in all, there is no place like dear
Old England, in spite of its fogs and drizzle, and the
colds they bring in their train.
• The question often rises respecting the climate in
America, since it has grown so much milder in com-
paratively few years, whether it will ever grow any-
thing like our own in its range of cold and heat.
That many countries have changed greatly within
historical periods is certain. The climate of England,
in the days of the Norman conquest, is thought bv
many to have been like that of Canada now. Horace
hints at ir :: T.nd snow being no strangers at Eome in
the time of Augustus. Cassar led his army o\ertlie
frozen Rhone; and, as to Germany, the description
of its climate in Tacitus is fit to make one shiver.

A JFinter Landscape, 113

But we have, unfortunately, an opportunity afforded

US by the case of New England, of seeing that two

hundred years' occupation of an American province,

though it may lessen the quantity of snow, has no

effect in tempering the severity of the cold in winter,

or abating the heat in summer. Connecticut and

Massachusetts are as cold as Canada, if not colder,

and yet they are long-settled countries. The great

icy continent to the north forbids the hope of Canada

ever being, in any strict sense of the term, temperate.

Even in the open prairies of Wisconsin and Iowa the

blasts that sweep from the awful Arctic deserts are

keen beyond the conception of those who never felt

them. It is the fact of Britain being an island that

has made the change in its case, the wind that blows

over the sea being always much cooler in summer

and warmer in winter than that which blows over

land.

I have spoken of the beautiful effect of the hoar-
frost on the forest ; that of the snow is equally
striking. It is wonderful how much manages to get
itself heaped up on the broad branches of pines and
cedars, and even on the bare limbs and twigs of
[other trees, making the landscape look most amaz-
ingly wintry. But I don't think any one in Canada
ever heard of such a quantity lodging on them as to
Imake such an occurrence as Mrs. Mary Somerville
Iquotes from some traveller in her " Physical Geo-
|graphy," where she tells us that the weight of it on

■ I'

»*»^

" Jce-tlorm>."

, ^ A r.t the pine-trees ia «> P«at. M
fl.e broad fronda of ^ ^ ^ ^^,^„_ ^^^

^hen the wind risea and sw^s ^^ _^ ^

often tumble against each *- -*J^^ „, ^„„^.
overtbro. great -f ^^^l^, x never beard
r";T"'-ttitbanyone.bodid. I.
of, nor did I eve j^^Me, from the mere

deed, I rather tbrnk th^ ^.P^ ^^^^ ^^^ ^ ^
feet that, Aongt *« »° ^^ ^^^„^ ,., a„„,

««uck the second ™gb^1^- J ^^^^^ „„ ^ ,,,^
that of the seeond woni ^ ^^^ ^^ ^^

ana thus the de^ruct>onw^^_^^ Itm.>stbc»»e

instead of spr^»g ^^ ,^, ^„Me tomadoe,

curiouBandmoorrect

of summer ''^*;^;; J^,, „« eonstant plea^re
The snow .tself used t g^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^

in looking at it mimiteiy ^^^^^ ^^^

.eeintheWeido^ope^--^- ^^,^„p^^
those of the crystals of wb.h^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^
crosses, diamonds, and 1 ^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^.^^j.

lions when the sui ^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^^

--P*-7'y~^::V!;derfulthingerystaUizati,n

^arypowder. T'^^on.ent you will beamed
i3, If you think of It for a » J ^^ ^_^ ^^

1 !• « ;f hrines ns as ia
and awed, for rt br S ^.^^^^ ^^ ^„„, „g,

God. How xs It *»' ™ ^ for more bea»-

themselvesin^em^^peH^^-^^^^^^^,,

*^^*::7hrt-eranerror-never.r^
ornament? •L'^^^*'

The Minute Perfection of God*s Works. 115

thing like a failure. Every atr*^ of the dead, cold
gnow has a law impressed on it by God, by which it
takes its proper place in building up those fairy
spangles and jewels. Can anything be more ex-
quisite than the crystals we find in the rocks ? Yet
they are built up of atoms too small for even the
microscope to detect, and are always exactly the
same shape in the same kind of crystal. Philosophers
think that the particles of each kind of crystal have
each the perfect shape which the whole crystal
assumes ; but if this be so, it makes the matter still
more wonderful, for what shall we think of atoms,
vhich no magnifying power can make visible, being
carved and pierced and fretted into the most lovely
and patterns ? The great power of God is, I

think, shown even more wonderfully in the smallest
than in the largest of His works. The miracles of
His creative skill are lavished almost more profusely
on its least than on its larger productions, in animate
as well as inanimate nature. The crystalline lens of
a cod's eye — that is, the central hard part of it,
vhich is very little larger than a pea, and is quite
transparent — was long thought to have no special
wonders in its structure; but the microscope has
shown latterly that what appeared a mere piece of
hard jelly is made up of five millions of distinct
■ fibres, which are locked into each other by sixty-two
[thousand millions of teeth I The grasshopper has
[two hundred and seventy horny teeth, set in rows in

I 2

'Wm

116 T/ie Minute Perfection of God* a Works.

its gizzard. A quarto volume has been written on
the anatomy of the earth-worm. At Bilin, in Hun-
gary, there is a kind of stone which the great micro-
scopist — or histologist, as 'the phrase sometimes is— .
Dr. Ehrenberg, has found to consist, nearly altogether
of creatures so small that three hundred and thirty
millions of them make a piece only about twice the
size of one of the dice used in backgammon, and yet
each of these creatures is covered with a coat of mail
delicately carved all over. What can be more lovely
than the way m which the little feathers are laid on
a butterfly's wing in such charming spots and bars of
different colours ? I was looking some time since at
a butterfly, which was of the most perfect azure blue
when you looked down on it, but changed, when you
sav>- 'fc sideways, from one shade to another, and asked
an entomologist how it was it had so many different
tints, taking nearly every colour by turns. It is by
the wonderful arrangement of the feathers, it seems,
all this is done, the way in which they are laid on
the wings being such as to break the rays of light
into all these colours, according to the angle at which
it is held to the eye. How* wonderful the Being
whose very smallest works are so perfect !

The snow in cold countries is very different in
appearance at different times, as I have already in-
timated. In comparatively mild weather it falls and
lies in large soil flakes ; but in very cold weather it
comes down almost in powder, and crackles below

li!

Deer-shooting, ' iT

the feet at each step. The first showers seldom ^ rhe
air being too warm as yet ; indeed, warm, comfort-
able, days sometimes continue quite late. I re-
member one November, when we were without fires,
even in the middle of it, for some days together ;
and in one extraordinary December, ploughs were
actually going on Christmas-day ; but this was as
irreat a wonder as a Canadian frost would be in
England. The first winter, enough fell in November
to cover all the stumps in our field, which we did
1 ot see again for many weeks. The depth of the
snow must thus have been at least a yard. In the
woods, there was only a dead level of snow, instead of
the rough flooring of fallen logs and broken branches.
At first we could not stir through it for the depth,
and had to make a path to the barn and to the road ;
but after a time a thaw came for a day or so, and
some rain fell, and then the surface of the snow froze
so firmly that even the oxen could walk over it in
any direction without breaking through.

The falling of the snow was a great time for the
sportsmen of our household, for the deer were then most
easily killed, the snow, while soft, showing their tracks,
I and also making them less timid, by forcing them to
i seek far and near for their food. Our. rifles were,
consequently, put in the best order as soon as the
ground was white; and each of us saw, in imagina-
tion, whole herds of stag'='. which he had brought
I down. Frederic, who had been left in Toronto,

Deer-thooting-

,• wltli bv tho confinement of Im

having suffered m health y ^^ ^^^ ^.^^^

office, had given 1 up, a ^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^^^

before *«, «> l^'^^j^ J ,,„, Hfle. and one g,u„

*^%^'''r at r:l*e poorest shot of us.,,
good one. But ^ ^ ^reofhisa™,

,„aKoben.aB^ J- ^^^^^inthadbeen

'"ilTwe: reallinaetate of gr^t eage™«
» rabbit. ^"^ ^ ^i,^dy looked out «kt«
to commence <md ^^^^^^ ^^^_ ^^, ,,

clothes to P"»;;j;^ ,„„,. an extra supply «(
„ight be more ]*« *' , i„to our poucta

.uUets audpo«aer^'^^««;^,,,,a every one, fo,

■"^ "^1 ■' Tllvery possible question as to wte
weeks before, with every p ^^^ ^^^^^^

weweretodowhenwe^to^.

^^' "riririHl^-^aiately *
their rifles on ^- ^^ ^,„g ,,,,

breakfast, au^, M ^^^^ ^^ ^ each Uio«gk
different road, strucK in ^^,^ ^„,^

.est. Sl^-'ly^^^r'tMrlbertandHen,
i„ die clearing, and, soon after, ^^^^ ^^ ^^^ .^ ^

„,ade their appearance. ^^^^

— '"^^C It Sative about*.
'I n T WeTaduaUy learned, however, ..

. tnTauL!h.d.y-s-^^^^^

r:o:dt:r«aeday,butwas.«.

Deer-9hooting» 119

tered when the deer sprang away through the trees
that he could not raise his rifle in time, and had
fired rather at where it had been than at where it
was. David declared that he had walked forty
miles, he supposed, and had seen nothing, though if
he had only seen as much as a buck's tail he was
sure ho would have brought it down. Henry said
tliat, do his best, he could not get near enough, what
with the wind and the crackling of something or
other. The fact was that they were raw hands, and
needed some training, and had had to sufFer the
usual penalty of over-confidence, in reaping only
disappointment. They felt this indeed so much,
that it was some time before they would venture
out alone again, preferring to accompany an old
hunter who lived near us, until they had caught
the art irom him. Henry went out with an Indian,
also, once, and thus gradually became able to manage
by himself. He had the honour of killing the first
deer, and setting up the trophy of its horns. He had
walked for hours, thinking every little while he saw
something through the trees, but had been disap-
pointed, until, towards midday, when, at last, he came
upon a couple browsing on the tender tips of the brush,
at a long distance from him. Then came the hardest
part of the day's work, to get within shot of them
without lotting them hear or smell him. He had to
Qodge from tree to tree, and would look out every
minute to see if they were still there. Several times

Ill !

HI II

;;iii!i

120 D eer -shooting ,

the buck pricked its ears, and looked all round it, as
if about to run off, making him almost hold his
breath with anxiety lest it should do so; but, at last
he got near enough, and taking a good aim at it from
behind a tree, drew the trigger. A spring forward
and a visible momentary quiver, showed that he had
hit it ; but it did not immediately fall, but ran off
with the other through the woods. Instantly dashing
out to the spot where it had stood, Henry followed
its track, aided by the blood which every here and
there lay on the snow. He thought at first he would
come up with it in a few hundred yards, but it led
him a long weary chase of nearly two miles before he
got within sight of it. It had continued to run until
weakness from the loss of blood had overpowered it,
and it lay quite dead when Henry reached it. It was
too great a weight for him to think of carrying home
himself, so that he determined to cut it up, and hang
the pieces on the neighbouring branches till he could
come back next morning with some of us and fetch
them. Copying the example of the old hunter
whom he had made his model, he had taken a lor.g
knife and a small axe with him ; and, after cutting
the throat to let oflP what blood still remained, the
creature being still warm, he was not very long of
stripping it of its skin and hanging up its disn'em-
bered body, for preservation from the wolves
through the night. This done, he made the best of
his way home to tell us his achievement.

Beer-shooting. 121

Next day, we had a grand banquet on venison-
steaks fried with ham, and potatoes in abundance ;
and a better dish I think I never tasted. Venison
pie and soup, for days after, furnished quite a treat in

the house.

A few days after this, while the winter was hardly

as yet fairly begun, David and Henry had gone out

to their work on the edge of the woods, when a deer,

feeding close to them, lifted up its head, and, looking

at them, turned slowly away. They were back to

the house in a moment for their rifles, and sallied

forth after it, following its track to the edge of the

creek on our lot, where it had evidently crossed on

the ice. David reached the bank first ; and, naturally

enough, thinking that ice which bore up a large deer

would bear him up, stepped on it to continue the

pursuit. But he had forgotten that the deer had

four legs, and thus pressed comparatively little on

any one part, whereas his whole weight was on one

spot, and he had only reached the middle when in he

went, in a moment, up to his middle in the freezing

water. The ducking was quite enough to cool his

ardour for that day, so that we had him back to

change his clothes as soon as he could get out of his

bath and reach the house. Henry got over the

stream on a log, and followed the track for some dis-

flce farther, but gave up the chase on finding it

;ely to be unavailing.

When we first came to live on the river, the deer

ii«««**

:=|||

'ill 1^1

122 Beer-shooting,

were very numerous. One day in the first winter
Robert saw a whole herd of them, of some eight or
ten, feeding close to the house, among our cattle, on
some browse which had been felled for them. Browse
I may say, is the Canadian word for the tender twigs
of trees, which are so much liked by the oxen and
cows, and even by the horses, that we used to cut
down a number of trees, and leave them with the
branches on them, for the benefit of our four-footed
retainers. On seeing so grand a chance of bagging
two deer at a shot, Robert rushed in for his rifle at
once, but before he had got it loaded, although he
flustered through the process with incredible haste,
and had us all running to bring him powder, ball,
and wadding, the prey had scented danger, and were
gone.

We had quite an excitement one day by the cry
that a stag was swimming across the river. On look-
ing up the stream, there he was, sure enough, with
his noble horns and his head out of the water, doing
his best to reach the opposite shore. In a few
minutes we saw John Courtenay and his boys pad-
dling off in hot haste, in their canoe, in pursuit
Every stroke flashed in the light, and the little craft
skimmed the calm water like an arrow. They were i
soon very close to the great creature, which flewj
faster than ever, and then a bullet fi-om Courtenay's
rifle ended the chase in a moment. The stag]
was instantly seized to prevent its sinking, a

Useless Cruelty, 123

off to the shore by a rope tied round its

antlers. > '^ -

Some people are cruel enough to kill deer in the
spring, when their young are with them, and even to
kill the young themselves, though they are worth
very little when got. One of the neighbours one
day woi led a fawn which was following its mother,
anu as usual ran up to secure and kill it. But to
his astonishment, the maternal affection of the doe
had so overcome its timidity, that, instead of fleeing
the moment it heard the shot, it would not leave its
poor bleeding young one, but turned on him, and
made such vigorous rushes towards him, again and
again, that it was only by making all kinds of noise
he could frighten her far enough back to let him get
hold of the fawn at last. I wish that instead of
merely running at him, the loving-hearted creature
had given 'him a good hard butt with her head; it
would have served him right for such cruelty. Taking
away life is only justifiable, I think, when there is
some other end than mere amusement in view. To
find happiness in destroying that of other living
beings is a very unworthy enjoyment, when one
j comes to think of it. To go out, as I have seen both
I men and boys do, to shoot the sweet little singing
birds in the hedges, or the lark when lie is flut-
[tering down, after having filled the air with music,
lor the slow-flying seagulls, as they sail heavily neai?
[the shore, can only give a pleasure so long as those

124 Useless Cruelty.

who indulge in it do not reflect on its cruelty. I
remember, when a boy, being often very much struck
with this, but, more especially, once, when a boy shot
a male thrush, as it was bringing home a little worm
for its young ones, which \7ould very likely die when
their father was killed ; and, once, when a man shot a
seagull, which fell far out on the water, from which
it would often try in vain to rise, but where it would
have to float, helpless and in pain, till released by
death.

Continued persecution, by every one, at all seasons
has nearly banished the deer from all the settled
parts of Canada, for years back. There are game
laws now, however, fixing a time, within which, to
destroy them is punishable, and it is to be hoped
they may do some good. But the rifle is of use only
for amusement in all the older districts, and if you
want to get sport like that of old times you must go
to the frontier townships, where everything is yet
almost in a state of nature.

The Indians were harder on every kind of game,
and still are so, than even the white settlers. Tbey
have long ago laid aside the bow and arrow of their
ancestors, in every part of Canada, and availed them-
selves of the more deadly power of firearms. As
they have nothing whatever to do most of their time,
and as the flesh of deer is, at once, food, and a means
of getting other things, by bartering it for them, and |
as it suits their natural taste, they used to be, ar

be, and

Shedding of the Stages Horns, 125

fltill are, what may be called hunters by profession.
One Indian and his son, who had built their wigwam
on our lot, in the first years of our settlement, killed
in one winter, in about three weeks, no fewer than
forty deer, but they spoiled everything for the rest
of the season, as those that escaped them became so
terrified that they fled to some other part.

The species of deer common in Canada is the Vir-
ffinian, and, though not so large as some others, their
long, open ears, and graceful tails — longer than those
o^some other kinds, and inclining to be bushy — give
them a very attractive appearance. The most curious
thing about them, as about other deer, was the growth
and casting of the stags' horns. It is not till the
spring of the second year that the first pair begin to
make their appearance, the first sign of their coming
being a swelling of the skin over the spots from
which they are to rise. The antlers are now bud-
ding; for on these spots are the footstalks from which
they are to spring, and the arteries are beginning to
deposit on them, particle by particle, with great ra-
ipidity, the bony matter of which the horns are com
ised. As the antlers grow, the skin still stretches
iver them, and continues to do so, till they have
[eached their full size, and have become quite hard
ind solid, and forms a beautiful velvet covering,
fhich is, in reality, imderneath, nothing but a great
^ssue of blood-vessels for supplying the necessary
lirculation. The arteries which rim up from the

if"**'*'*

126 Shedding of the Stages Horns,

head, through it, are, meanwhile, so large, that they
make furrows on the soft horns underneath ; and it
is these that leave the deeper marks on the horns
when hard. When the antlers are full-grown, they
look very curious while the velvet is still over them
and are so tender that the deer can, as yet, make no
use of them. It must therefore be removed, but not
too suddenly, lest the quantity of blood flowing
through such an extent of skin should be turned to
the brain or some internal organ, and death be the
result. Danger is prevented, and the end at the
same time accomplished, by a rough ring of bone
being i ow deposited round the base of the horns
where they join the footstalk, notches being left in it,
through which the arteries still pass. Gradually,
however, these openings are contracted by fresh bone
being formed round their edges, till at length the
arteries are compressed as by a ligature, and the cir-
culation effectually stopped. The velvet now dies,
for want of the vital fluid, and peels oif, the deer
helping to get it off by rubbing its horns against the
trees. It was by noticing this process of stopping
the arteries in the antlers of stags, that John Hunter,
the great anatomist, first conceived t?ie plan of re-
ducing the great swellings of the arteries in human
beings which are called aneurisms, by tying them up
— 3. mode which, in certain cases, is found quite
effectual. The highest thoughts of genius are thus
.frequently only new applications of principles and

I' ' I ( ■

)n\9
ihey
lem,
e no
.tnot
)wing
ledto
36 the
at the
,f bone
1 boras
ift in it,
idually,
sb bone
igtb the

tbe cir-

>w cdea,

sbe deer
Linstthe

|stopping
Huntei,

In of re-

buman

tbemiip

td qiJite

are thus

[pies and

Shedding of the Stages Horns. 127

modes of operation which God has established in the
humblest orders of nature, from the beginning of the
world. Indeed they are always so, for we cannot
create any absolutely new conception, but must be
contented to read and apply wisely the teachings
ftirnished by all things around us. When the velvet
is gone, the horns are, at last, perfect, and the stag
bears them proudly, and uses them fiercely in his
battles with his rivals. But the cutting off the arte-
ries makes them no longer a part of the general sys-
tem of the animal. They are, thenceforth, only held
on to the footstalks by their having grown from them,
and, hence, each spring, when a new pair begin to
swell up from beneath, the old ones are pushed off
and fall away, to make room for others. It is curious
to think that such great things as full-grown stags'
horns drop off and are renewed every year ; but so
it is. Beginning with the single horn of the first
season, they grow so much larger each season till the
seventh, when they reach their greatest size. But,
after all, is it any more wonderful that their horns
should grow once a-year, than that our hair should
grow all the time ? And is a horn anything more
I than heir stuck together ?

128

CHAPTER VII.

•*v, a bear— Courtenay*B cow and

the «olve8-A fr S''' '" Cold, col.l, ooldl-A mM,
teezas-Our vm^r_^«^^^ „„ffli„g_Aocid»t. tkougk
journey — nleigniug

intense o"'^-

A t« favour us by howling at nights,
Thv wolves used to lavour uo j

V. ^ till the sound made one miaetabk
close at hand t.U t^e barn-yard on

We had five sheep ^"^""^IXm doneL fl.e«

E?^Ws the wolves had been disturb.

! f ;t I never heard of any one bemg Med
,tor feast. ne. ^^^.^^^^ ^.

by them, but they ^^ ^^___j^

^r , Irlhed our clearing, when, tohisho™,
bad almost -ache ^^^^^^ ^^^.^^ ^_ ^

he heard the c^ o ^^^^ ^^^^^,

rrrtree that stood by itself, and was e»l,
could, to a tre ^ ^.^^ ^ ^^^ ^^.

climbed. Into this he go j

Wolves,

129

have frozen to death had he not, providentially, been

80 near the house. As it was, his loud whistling for

the dogs, and his shouts, were, fortunately, heard, and

some of us sallying out, he was delivered from hia

perilous position. Wolves are much scarcer now,

however, I am thankful to say, owing in part, no

doubt, to a reward of two sovereigns which is offered

by Government for every head brought in. In the

ref^ions north of Canada they seem to abound, and

even on the shores of the Arctic Ocean they are

found in great numbers. Sir John Franklin, in one

of his earlier journeys, oflen came upon the remains

of deer which had been hemmed in by them and

driven over precipices. " Whilst the deer are quietly

grazing," says he, " the wolves assemble in great

numbers, and, forming a deep crescent, creep slowly

towards the herd, so as not to alarm them much at

first; but when they perceive that they have fairly

hemmed in the unsuspecting creatures, and cut o£f

their retreat across the plain, they move more

I honor, ^quickly, and with hideous yells terrify their prey

and, Hand urge them to flight by the only open way, which

towards the precipice, appearing to know that

hen the herd is at full speed it is easily driven over

e cliflfs, the rear-most urging on those that are

ifore. The wolves then descend at leisure and

Dot of it, ^fted on the mangled carcasses."

, bougli ■■ There were some bears in the woods, but they

ust sooi^pd not trouble us. My sister Margaret and I were

at'

ipper
leels he

easily!
lum-

•$i

130 Courtenafs Cou, and He Wchu.

t ™,r amily who had an advrenture
,he only two o^-^^y^^ ,,,,i„^,

"'^ °";-™e fnt we had BtroUed out into the .cod.
summer t.me « ^^. ^,^^ ^.,^ ,,„^i,,_ .„3

*" r " "rr 1 had climbed to the top of th,
gathenng AowerB. ^^^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^.^^ ^^

upturned root ot ^^^ ^^ ^ ^^^^ ^.^

^ielcw.thftu.t»nd-^^ „,„p,I.,a„cedto
**"" r!„d"okdown,whe„,lo.<WesU»da

*"" rv^th raspberries, which he seeded t.
r'as llh !^^we Id. you may be certain U..
Uke as much ^ ^^^^ „

the first sight 01 It was e J j^^^ ,h,,, „^ .

an instant, and, *outmg «» J -- ^^_^^^_

'^^"n'wir— S'even ourse... T..

irrX^S^tirwe could ha.er...».

seen him reaUy after us. _ ^^^^ i

X had forgotten a sU.y^a,--*^^^,^„^„, J

MppenedayearortwoaJ'^^ ,,ek, and wa, .,.J
Courtenay h^ a cow wh.ch ^.^ ^^^,^

i„ the field, after n.ght, m the w ^.^^ ,

without any one missing it or, J J

\.thout their knowmgwhe.-^^^^^^

'^^«^°^^"'fcr:^;wl"ound killed hy,he™.J

morning, poor CowsUp w „„tUkingto.

itscarcasshavingheenleft,the fan J

it under die circumstances, they held g "^

A Fright in the Woods hy Night. 131

over it, night after night, till the bones were picked
clean. This happened quite close to the house.

But if there were not many bears and wolves to
be s«««) W6 vfere not the less afraid they would
pounce on us, when, by any chance, we should
happen to be coming through the woods after dark.
I remember a young friend and myself being half
frightened in this way one summer evening when
there chanced to be no moon, and we had to walk
home, through the great gloomy forest, when it was
pitch dark. Before starting, we were furnished with
a number of long slips of the bark of the hickory-
tree, which is very inflammable, and, having each
lighted one, we sallied out on our journey. I shall
never forget the wild look of everything in the
flickering light, the circle of darkness closing in
roiuid us at a very short distance. But on we went,
along the winding path, hither and thither, among
the trees. Suddenly an unearthly soimd broke from
j one side, a sort of screech, which was repeated again
[and again. We took it for granted some bear and
her young ones were at hand, but where, it seemed
impossible for us to discover. How could we run
in such darkness over such a path, with lights to
[carry? Both of us stood still to listen. Again
[came the "hoo, hoo, hoo;" and I assure you it
ounded very loud in the still forest. But, though
errible to me, I noticed that, when distinctly caught,
it ceased to alarm my comrade. " It's only a greab

. k2

192 The Mver Freeze:

^ .^ tWe-wl>at'« tho use of Wmg
owlnpin the tree there J^,^„„,,„,,^

^-"-^^;'r—:iXe' However, .e no.

ir«r^;5:;:;n..yahearty...h,.a.e„.

Toward, the end ^^^^^ ^,^^^ ^^ ,^

This was, m great pa - ^^ ^^.^^^ ^,_,^ g^^^i^^

floating down from ba ^^^ .^

-^^""r"'dt:e toIetoUanotW.
already formed there ^^ ^^^^ ^.^^^

-' ^ '"''':'' tTer;:^i:t^^-*^-'" '»^"-

f'T^lX-assolidasas^ne. We «

the whole surface ^^^^._^^_ ^.^^ ,,^ ^,.

now to cut a ho e ev y ^^^ ^ ^

through the :ce to let the c ,^ ^^^^ ^,^^

-ter for the house^;^Jc^^ ,„,,,,„,. ,.„,
cattle came down t«^ ' i,,^ ^ t, w]

two afterwards we g«^^^^^^,,,, I

*^"" %L IrL of the question, ta th.

*^'"- oTLh»nk,andthewayinwhichto
steepness of the Dan , „ged to sally o«t toi

feet balled with the --^^ ^^^^ ears o/n,y J
theminathickgreat-co^.-* ^^^^^^^^^

carefully tied down tojre^^.^^^.^ I
ted c.av. round my ne^,^

xny hands, ihe no ^^^ ^ i

^'^-V^r'tereto-tfcyslopoJ

■ r;:r;it:c^^-hai.rtiuthe.=o..j

.iilill

Our Winter Fires,

183

had slid past me, when, having closed the door, with
hands like the snow, Irom having had to loosen the
halters, I went down with them. Vhen the wind
was from the north they were white in a step or
two, with their breath frozen on their chests and
sides, the cold making it like smoke as it lefl their
nostrils. Of course they were in no hurry, and
would put their tails to the wind and drink a
minute, and then lift up their heads and look round
t'lem at their leisure, as if it were June. By tho
time they were done, their mouths and chins were
often coated with ice, long icicles hanging from tho
hair all round. Right glad was I when at last I had
them fairly back again, and had knocked out the
balls of snow from their shoes, to let them stand
firm. *

The cold did not last all the time, else we could

i never have endured it. There would be two or

three days of hard frost, and then it would come

milder for two or three more; but the mildest,

[except when it was a thaw, in January, were very

jmuch colder than any that are common in England,

Qd as to the coldest, what shall I say they were

ke? The sky was as bright and clear as can be

jined, the snow crackled under foot, and the

srind, when there was any, cut the skin like a razor.

ndoors, the fire in the kitchen was enough to heat a

ige hall in a more temperate climate. It was never

[ilowed to go out, the last thing at night being tQ

134j Coldy cold J cold I

roll a huge back-log, as they called it, into the fire-
place, with hand-spokes, two of us sometimes having
to help to get it into its place. It was simply a cut
of a tree, about four feet long, and of various thick-
nesses. The two dog-irons having beien drawn out
and the embers heaped close to this giant, a number
of thinner logs, whole and in parts, were then laid
above them, and the fire was "gathered" for the
night. By day, what with another huge back-log to
replace the one burned up in the night, and a great
bank of other smaller " sticks" in front and over it,
I think there was often half a cart-load blazing at a
time. In fact, the only measure of the quantity was
the size of the huge chimney, for the wood cost no-
thing except the trouble of cutting and bringing it to
the house. It was grand to sit at night before the
roaring mountain of fire and forget the cold outside;
but it was a frightful thing to dress in the morning,
in the bitter cold of the bedrooms, with the windows
thick with frost, and the water frozen solid at your
side. If you touched a tumbler of water with your
toothbrush it would often freeze in a moment, and
the water in the basin sometimes froze round the
edges while we were washing. The tears would
come out of our eyes, and freeze on our cheeks
they rolled down. The towels were regularly frozen |
like a board, if they had been at all damp. Water,
brought in overnight in buckets, and put as close to
the fire as possible, had to be broken with an axe in

Coldf cold, cold!

135

the morning. The bread, for long after we went to
the river, till we got a new house, was like a stone
for hardness, and sparkled with the ice in it. The
milk froze on the way from the barn to the house,
and even while they were milking. If you went
out, your eyelashes froze together every moment with
your breath on them, and my brothers' whiskers
were always white with frozen breath when they
came in. Beef and everything of the kind were
frozen solid for months together, and, when a piece
was wanted, it had to be sawn off and put in cold
water overnight to thaw it, or hung up in the house.
I have known beef that had been on for hours taken
out almost raw, from not having been thawed before-
hand. One of the coldest nights I remember hap-
pened once when I was from home. I was to sleep
at the house of a magistrate in the village, and had
gone with a minister who was travelling for the
British and Foreign Bible Society to attend a meet-
ing he had appointed. It was held in a wooden
schoolhouse, with three windows on each side, and a
single storey high. There was a stove at the end
nearest the door, which opened into the room ; the
pipe of it was carried up to near the roof, and then
led along the room to a chimney at the opposite end.
The audience consisted of seven or eight men and
boys, though the night was magnificent, the stars
hanging from the dark blue like sparkling globes of
The cold, in fact, was so intense that nobody

■:.iii'

, Iw

'-l-l J

'i ! !

136 Cold, cold, coldt

would venture out. When I got in, I found the
congregation huddled round the stove, which one of
them, seated in front of it, was assiduously stuffiiiff
with wood, as often as the smallest chance offered of
his being able to add to its contents. The stove itself
was as red as the lire inside of it, and the pipe, for
more than a yard up, was the same ; but our backs
were wretchedly cold, :*_ jwithstanding, though we sat
within a few inches of the glowing iron. As to the
windows, the rime on them never thought of melting,
but lay thick and hard as ever. How the unfortunate
speaker bore his place at the master' b lebk at the far
end I know not. He had only one ' ., .ndeed, but
the hand of the other was kept deeply bedded in his
pocket all the time. We were both to sleep at the
same house, and therefore returned together, and
after supper were shown into a double-bedded room
with a painted floor, and a great stove in the middle.
A delightful roar up the pipe promised comfort for
the night, but alas I in a few minutes it died away,
the fire having been made of chips instead of sub-
stantial billets. Next morning, on waking, looking
over to Mr. Thompson, I expressed a hope that he
had rested well through the night.

" Rested !" said he ; "I thawed a piece my om.
size last night when I first got in, and have lain in it
all night as if it had been my coffin. I daren't put
out my leg or my hand ; it was like ice up to my
body." . ^

A Winter's Journey, 137

One winter I had a dreadful journey of about two

hundred miles. "We started in the st-age, which was

an open rough waggon, at seven o'clock at night, the

roads not as yet permitting sleighs. It was in the

first week of January. I had on two great-coats, but

there were no buffalo robes to lay over the knees,

though the stage should have provided them. All

that dreadful dark night I had to sit there, while the

horses stumbled on at a walk, and the waggon bumped

on the frozen clods most dreadfully. The second

day's ride was much better, that part of the road

being smoother ; but the next day a^nd night — what

shall I say of them ? I began in a covered sleigh,

some time in the forenoon, the distance being seventy

miles. There was another person in it besides my^

self. Off we started at a good pace, but such was

the roughness of the road, up one wave of frozen

earth and snow, and down another, that both of us

were thoroughly sea-sick in a short time. Each took

possession of a window, and getting the head in again

was out of the question till the sickness fairly spent

itself. Meanwhile, there was a large high wooden

box in the sleigh between us, and we had to keep a

hand a-piece on it, lest it should take us at unawares^

and make a descent on our legs or backs. After a

time, the covered sleigh was exchanged for an open

one— a great heavy farmer's affair, a mere long box

upon runners. To add to our troubles, they put a

lgrea,t black horse, as one of the two to draw ua,

Ml***'

€

138 Sleighing,

which was so wild and fierce that I have always
thought it must have been mad. It was now dark
night, and there were again no buffalo robes, and
the thermometer far below zero. How we stood it
I know not. My feet were like ice, and inces-
sant motion of both them and my arms seemed all
that could keep me from freezing. But away the
black wretch tore, the driver pulling him back as he
could, but in vain. At last, at two or three in the
morning, bang went the sleigh against some stump,
or huge lump of frozen mud, and — broke doMn.
" You'll have to get out, gentlemen," said the driver.
" You had better walk on to the first house, and I'll
go before you and borrow a sleigh." Here then we
were, turned out to stumble over a chaos of holes
and hillocks for nearly two miles, in darkness, and in
such a night I I don't know how long we were, but
we reached a wayside iim at last, where the driver
borrowed what he could get to carry us and the mails
to the journey's end, and having gone back for the
bags and his parcels, and that horrid box, to where
he had lefl the broken vehicle at the roadside, he re-
appeared after a time, and we finished our journey,
tired and cold enough, a little before daylight.

The amount of suffering from the cold, seldom,
however, reaches any painful extent; indeed, you
will hear people say, on every hand, that they posi-
tively like it, except when it is stormy, or wheu the
wind blows very keenly. Nor does it hinder work

Winter Mufflings, 189

of any kind, where there is exercise enough. You
may see men chopping in the forest in terribly cold
days, with their jackets off, the swinging of the arms
making them disagreeably hot in spite of the weather.
Sleighing is, moreover, the great winter amusement
of the Canadian, who seems never so pleased as when
driving fast in a " cutter," with the jingling bells on
the horse's neck making music as it goes. But, for
ray part, I could never bear sitting with my face to
the wind, while I was dragged through it at the rate
of ten miles an hour, with the thermometer below
zero. All the mufflings you can put on wont protect
the cheeks or the eyes, and the hands get intolerably
cold holding the reins. Indeed, the precautions taken"*
by those who have much travelling about in winter
show that, to those less fully prepared, there must be
suffering as well as enjoyment. Our doctor's outfit
for his winter practice used to amuse me. He had,
first, a huge otter fur cap, with ears ; next, over his
great-coat, the skin of a buffalo made into a coat,
with the hairy side out, and reaching to his feet ; his
feet were cased in mocassins, which came over his
boots and tied round the ankles ; a pair of great hose
reached up his thighs; his hands were muffled in
huge fur gauntlets reaching half-way to his elbow ;
and when he took his seat in his sleigh with all this
wrapping, he sat down on a buffalo-skin spread over
the seat, and stretching down over the bottom, while
another was tucked in over him, his feet resting on

iti«i»«*'

nil

if;

140 AccidenU through Intense Cold.

J „<■ it to keep out every breath of air ;
'^''^ZZn^l S';' W hot brick, put inside

on ^»''"g' '"'' J! ^'^y ,hat he felt quite comfort-
" He had c ^^^^^^^^^ J ^^^^^^,^,

Greenland. ^-^^P''^ °' j^^te one day, ™th

Ms driving ^-1^' ^■^^•;;La that the face of *e
his wife and "l"!*!'^;"^ '! i„ ^ ride of four or

r It "cir'ttrn the e.ce.ive cold
five miles. Ca.e ot ^^^.^^^ ^^^^^

„e not infrequent. Y™",peedily found. A poor
road, is cer«.in to d.e ^i ^^'^IJ^^^^ ^ ,^uway
Indian was frozen to death on th^ m J

-^°''rrso::u::-:e-.-a..
;:rx?--.--rH!h:r;:t

town an his sleigh, on ^^^ ^^^

^ returning, when he felt ve^ '

X. 4. i^imcjplf at a farm-nouse. a "^^
aside tx) heat himselt ^^

'^^^-'rtrenirtwLr, a farmer »a

riirwere drying in. 0.^^^^^^^
Toronto, and, naturaUyen^uJ^^-^^^,^^

o^er, not -"^ ^ cIl Bhould have ali,h.^
they had reached ^e c^ ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^,^^ ^

to her horror the daughter! ^^

^ne dead, fi:o.en at h« ^ y
Christmaa there are a great many sn

Accidents through Intense Cold, 141

at which whoever kills most pigeons, let loose from a
trap, at a certain distance, wins a turkey. I was one
(lay riding past one of these, and noticed a group of
spectators standing round, but thought no more of it,
till next morning, I learned that, when the match was
done and the people dispersed, a boy was seen who
-^ntinued to stand i ; li *n. the vacant ground, and, on
ffoing up to ^i™) it "^^^ found that he had been frozen
stiff, and was stone dead. A minister once told me
that he had been benighted on a lonely road in the
depth of the winter and could get on no further, and,
for a time, hardly knew what to do. At last he re-
solved to take out his horse, and, after tying its two
fore legs together, let it seek what it could for itself
till morning, while he himself commenced walking
round a great tree that was near, and continued doing
30, without resting, till the next morning. Had he
sat down, he would have fallen asleep ; and if he had
slept, he would certainly have died. My brother
Henry, who, after a time, turned to the study of me-
dicine, and has risen to be a professor in one of the
colleges, took me, one day, to the hospital, with him,
and, turning into one of the wards, walked up to the
bed of a young man. Lifting up the bottom of the
clothes, he told me to look; and, — what a sight I
Both the feet had been frozen off at the ankle,
and the red stumps were slowly healing. A poor
man called, once, begging, whose fingers were all
gone. He had walked some miles without gloves,

\&A

;'!i

142 Accidents through Intense Cold.

and had known nothing about how to manage frozen
limbs; his fingers had frozen, had been neglected, and
had mortified, till at last such as did not drop off were
pulled out, he told me, with pincers, being utterly rotten
at the joints. I know a young man, a law student
■whose fingers are mere bone and skin : he was snow-
balling, and paid the penalty in the virtual destruction
of his hands. A curious case happened some years
ago, resulting in the recovery of two thousand pounds
of damages from the mail company. The stage from
Montreal, westward, broke through an airhole on the
St. Lawrence, when driving over the ice, and all the
passengers were immersed in the river, one of them
getting both his hands so frozen that he lost them
entirely. They were both taken off at the wrists.
The money was a poor consolation for such a ca-
lamity. I have known of a gentleman losing both
hands by taking off his fur gloves to get better con-
trol over a runaway horse. He got it stopped, but
his hands were lost in the doing it.

The ice of the river used to give us abundant room
for skating, where it was smooth enough. Near the
towns every one skates, even the ladies, of late years,
doing their best at it. But the ice, with us, was often
too rough for this graceftil and healthy exercise, so
that it was less practised than it otherwise would
have been.

Ill

'■vf

■ \ \

143

CHAPTER VIII.

The aurora borealis — ''Jumpers" — Squaring timber — Rafts
—Camping out— A public meeting — Winter fashions — My
toe frozen — A long winter's walk — Hospitality — Nearly
lost in the woods.

The grandeur of the aurora borealis, in the cold
weather, particularly struck us. At times the whole
heavens would be irradiat ' by it — shafts of light
stretching from every side to the zenith, or clouds of
brightness, of the softest rose, shooting, from every
point of the horizon, high overhead. It was like the
Hindoo legend of Indra's palace, which Southey de-
scribes so beautifully :

*' Even we on earth at intervals descry

Qleams of the glory, streaks of flowing light,
Openings of Heaven, and streams that flash at night
In fitful splendour, through the northern sky."

Curse of Kehama, vii. 72.

The fondness of almost every one for sleigh-riding
was ludicrously shown in the contrivances invented
in some cases to get the enjoyment of the luxury.
The richer settlers, of course, had very comfortable
vehicles, with nice light runners, and abundance of
skins of various kinds, to adorn them, and make them
warm ; but every one was not so fortunate, and yet

144 "Jumpm."

you anything to go in ,, ^ ^^^t I guess we can

rig «p a jumper pretty s
.henitmadeitsappearane ';^^^j^^^ ,^
primitive tyi.,cons^d-P^y^„,,„,,„g„„,,,

^■"'t'tthTlcX serve for shafts lor t..e
Lorse, a cross ^ ; ^ keep then,

together. An oiu then, off they went,

rr/l^ToLs rlyhad „o.e. a coloured W.
of buffalo-robes, n J „,,^^,i to keep them warn.
,„iH,.r.ppearo™a^he. se^ea- ^^

An oia -""l-f ^'^ j;'l;Lg that would me.elj

T-Hnrwinter that the great worlc of cuttLg

It,, ™*^; .„ rt,, forests, for export I.

«„d «<!--= ;;'^;;,,„„, ^ .ores, covered .itl

''""'u '\ t es i.l the .ndustry of the wealtta
the noblest trees, mvi ^ ^,

tity of tinker this vast regioti

Squaring Timber, 115

may be estimated in some measure from the report
of the Crown Land Commissioner, a few years since,
which Bays that, in the Otta-va district alone, there
is enough to answer every demand for the next six
hundred years, if they continue felling it at the
present rate. There is no fear, assuredly, of wood
running short in Canada for many a day> The rafts
brought down from Lake Huron alone are won-
derful — thousands on thousands of immense trees,
squared so as to lie closely together, each long
enough, apparently, to be a mast for a large vessel.
I have looked over the wilderness of the forest from
two points — the one, the limestone ridge that runs
from Niagara northward — the other, from the top of
the sand-hills on the edge of Lake Huron — and no
words can tell the solemn grandeur of the prospect in
either case. Far as the eye could reach there was
nothing to be seen but woods — woods — woods — a
great sea of verdure, with a billowy roll, as the trees
varied in height, or the lights and shadows played
on them. It is said that the open desert impresses
the traveller with a sense of its sublimity that is
almost overpowering — the awful loneliness, the vast,
naked, and apparently boundless sweep of the
horizon on every side, relieved by no life or motion,
or even variety of outline, subduing all alike. But I
question if the sight of an American forest be not
I equally sublime. The veil cast by the trees over
the landscape they adorn; the dim wonder what

HI*

Sli«<

146 Squaring Timber,

may live beneath them, what waters flow, what lakes
spcrkle ; the consciousness that you look on nature
in her own unprofaned retreats ; that before a white
man had seen these shores the summer had already
waked this wondrous spectacle of life and beauty
year after year, for ages ; the thoughts of mystery
prompted by such " a boundless deep immensity of
shade;" the sense of vastness, inseparable from the
thought that the circle of your horizon, which so
overpowers you, sweeps on, in equal grandeur, over
boundless regions — all these and other thoughts fill
the mind with awe and tenderness.

The district in which, chiefly, "lumber men,"
strictly so called, ply their vocation, is on the Upper
Ottawa, where vast tracts of pine and other trees are
leased from Government by merchants in Quebec
Montreal, and elsewhere. For these gloomy regions
vast numbers of lumberers set out from Kingston and
Ottawa in the autumn, taking with them their
winter's provision of pork, flour, &c. ; and building
" shanties" for themselves — that is, rough huts, to
live in through the long winter — as soon as they
reach their limits. Intensely severe as the cold is,
they do not care for it. Sleeping at nights with their
feet to the fire, and " roughing" it by day as no
labourers would think of doing in England, they
keep up the highest spirits and the most vigorous
health. To fell and square the trees is only part of
their labour ; they must also drag them, oyer the

On the upj

h^'Wren, with

Rajti. 147

gnow to the river, by oxen, and join them into rafts
after getting them to it. To form these, a large
number of logs are laid closely, side by side, and
lashed together by long, thin, supple, rods tied round
pins driven into them, and further secured by
transverse poles pinned down on them ; and they are
then floated as rafts towards the St. Lawrence, which
they gradually reach, after passing, by means of con-
trivances called " slides," over tlie rough places, where
the channel is broken into rapi la. As they go down,
poling or sailing, or shooting liie slidf >, their course is
enlivened by the songs and shout* cf the crew, and
very exciting it is to see & A hear them. Once in
the broad, smooth water, several smaller rafts are
often joined together, and everything carefully
prepared for finally setting out for the lower
ports. Even from their starting, they are often
out with short masts and sails, and houses
built on them, in which the crew take up
their abode during the voyage. When they are
larger, quite a ri^mber of sails are raised, so that
they form very Bl«:i:.mg objects, when slowly gliding
down the river, a rude steering-apparatus behind
guiding the vast construction.*

It is wonderful how men stand the exposure of the
winter in the forests as they do. Indeed, a fine
young fellow, a friend of mine, a surveyor, told me

* On the upper lakes, the orew often take their wives and
I children, with their poultry, &c., on the rafts with them.

ri
are

i"^

mvi^

ll#»

.,Q Camping <"'■*•

, ,-i A r^cAhms better than to go off to the
that he l&ed nothing u eamp out-

depths of the wUdern^s in^e ^ ^^^ ^^ P

,haws and h F ^.^ ^^^^^^^ ,„ ,,,,„^

„,ssion of the wot ^^ ^^^ ^^.^^_

that happened to a party w .^ ^^^

is only a sample ot ^^^ There were

seven or eight o ^^ ^^^^^^

'T^:l°'^otwiir^tl"..^e,onhand-

and, I-'^ly- ■! ;.^^ The whole party had to wear
Weighs ovr*e - ^^^ .^^^^ .^^ ^^ ^

snow-shoes to keep ^

rr.inpiawge^^-'"^;-^:;;

to which It IS strapp ,

^--"^^^r^ii;rh::orato„:-.

drifts, in which odierw^se ^^^^^^

on as weU as they c , ^^ ^^^ ^^^

^th the weight of the gr .^ ^^^^

It wa, no use '^^^"^^^^J^, ,„ ^,e their cl-
adepthofsnow.Bohatrt-eyha ^^^.^^^^^^^

of getting on some unaate pa

Camping out, 149

moment. Meanwhile, the sky got darker and more
lowering, until, at last, it broke into a snow-storm so
heavy that they could hardly see one another at a
few yards' distance. The wind, which was very
strong, blew directly in their faces, and howled
wildly through the trees on each side, whirling the
drift in thick clouds in every direction. Still they
held on as well as they could, in moody silence, till,
at last, it was evident to all that they must give up
the struggle, and make as good an encampment as
they could, for the night, where they were. Turning
aside, therefore, into the forest, where a dark stretch
of pine-trees promised protection, they proceeded to
get ready their resting-place. With the help of their
axes, a maple was soon felled, and large pieces of bark,
from the fallen trees around, formed shovels, by
which a square spot of ground was cleared of the
snow. A fire was the next great subject of interest,
and this they obtained by rubbing some of the
fibrous bark of the white cedar to powder, and lay-
ing over it first thin peelings of birch-bark, and
then the bark itself, a match sufficing to set the pile
in a blaze, and the whole forest offering fuel. Piling
log on log into a grand heap, the trees around were
soon lighted up with a glow that shone far and near.
To protect themselves from the snow, which was
still falling, a quantity of spruce-boughs were next.
laid overhead on the rampart of snow which had been
banked up round them to the height of nearly five

If*'

ita»!\

150 A Public Meeting.

feet, the cold of the day being so great that the fierce
fire blazing close at hand made no impression on it
whatever. Slices of salt pork, toasted on a stick at
the fire, having been got ready by some, and broth
cooked in a saucepan, by others, they now took their
comfort as best they could in a primitive supper, logs
round the fire serving for seats. After this came
their tobacco-pipes and a long smoke, and then each
of the party lay down with his feet to the fire, and
slept, covered with snow, till daylight next morning.
This is the life led, week after week, by those
whose avocations call them to frequent the forests
during winter ; nor are the comforts of some of tne
poorer settlers in new districts, while they live in
" shanties," at their first coming, much greater, nor
their exposure much less.

A public meeting, held in the ne^t township, gave
us an opportunity of seeing the population of a wide
district in all the variety of winter costume. We
went in a neighbour's sleip:h, drawn by a couple of
rough horses, whose liarness, tied here and there with
rope, and unprovided with anything to keep the
traces from falling down, or the sleigh from running
on the horses' heels, looked as unsafe as possible.
But Canadian horses know how to act under such
circumstances, as if they had studied them, and had
contrived the best plan for avoiding unpleasant results.
They never walked down any descent, but, on coning
to any gully, dashed down the icy slope at a hard

llilHei

A Puhlic Meeting, 151

gallop, and, flying across the logs which formed a
bridge at the bottom, tore up the opposite ascent, till
forced to abate their speed by the weight of the ve-
hicle. Then came the driver's part to urge them up
the rest of the acclivity by every form of threatening
and persuasion in the vocabulary of his craft ; and
the obstacle once surmounted, off we were again at a
smart trot. It was rather mild weather, however,
for comfortable sleighing, the snow in deep places
being little better than slush, through which it was
heavy and slow work to drag us. At others, the
ground was well-nigh bare, and then the iron-shod
runners of the sleigh gave us most unpleasant music
as they grated on the stones and gravel. As to
shaking and jumbling, there was enough of both, as
often as we struck on a lump of frozen snow, or some
other obstruction ; but, at last, we got to our journey's
end. The village was already thronged by numbers
who had come from all parts, for it was a political
meeting, and all Canadians are politicians. Such
costumes as some exhibited are surely to be seen no-
where else. One man, I noticed, had a suit made of
drugget carpeting, with a large flower on a bright-
green ground for pattern, one of the compartments of
it reaching from his collar far down his back.
Blanket coats of various colours, tied round the waist
with a red sash, buffalo coats, fur caps of all sizes
and shapes, mocassins, or coarse Wellingtons, with
the trowser-legs tucked into them, mitts, gloves, and

M!*^*

i**»^

t^^^

m^^

:i!!i|l

152 A Public Meeting.

fur gauntlets, added variety to the picture. Almost
every one was smoking at some time or other. The
sleighs were ranged, some under the shed of the vil-
lage tavern, others along the sides of the street, the
horses looking like nondescript animals, from the
skins and coverlets thrown over them to protect them
from the cold. The " bar" of the tavern was the
great attraction to many, and its great blazing fire,
on which a cartload of wood glowed with exhilirating
heat, to others. Every one on entering, after des-
perate stamping and scraping to get the snow from
the feet, and careful brushing of the legs with a broom,
to leave as little as possible for melting, made straight
to it, holding up each foot by turns to get it dried, as
far as might be. There was no pretence at showing
deference to any one ; a labourer had no hesitation
in taking the only vacant seat, though his employer
were left standing. " Treating" and being " treated"
went on with great spirit at the bar, mutual strangers
asking each other to drink as readily as if they had
been old friends. Wine-glasses were not to be seen,
but, instead, tumblers were set out, and " a glass" was
left to mean what any one chose to pour into them,
One old man I saw put his hand in a knowing way
round his tumbler, to hide his filling it to the brim ;
but he proved to be a confirmed and hopeless drunk-
ard, who had already ruined himself and his family,
and was able to get drunk only at the expense of
others. «,

My Toe Frozen, 153

We stayed for a time to listen to the speeches,
which were delivered from a small balcony before
the window of the tavern, but were very uninterest-
ing to me, at least, though the crowd stood patiently
in the snow to hear them. I confess I was glad when
our party thought they had heard enough, and turned
their sleigh homewards once more.

I had the misfortune to get one of my great toes

frozen in the second or third winter. We were

working at the edge of the woods, repairing a fence

which had been blown down. The snow was pretty

deep, and I had been among it some hours, and did

not feel colder than usual, my feet being every day as

cold as lead, whenever I was not moving actively

about. I had had my full measure of stamping and

jumping to try to keep up the circulation, and had

no suspicion of anything extra, till, on coming

home, having taken off my stockings to heat myself

better, to my consternation, the great toe of my left

foot was as white as wax — the sure sign that it was

frozen. Heat being of all things the most dangerous

in such circumstances, I had at once to get as far as

possible from the fire, while some one brought me a

large basin of snow, with which I kept rubbing the

poor stiff member for at least an hour before it came

to its right hue. But what shall I say of the pain of

returning circulation ? Freezing is nothing, but

thawing is agony. It must be dreadful indeed where

the injury has been extensive. Even to this day,

»w

3l«

154 Hosptaliti/,

notwithstanding all my rubbing, there is still a tender
spot in the corner of my boot on cold days. It was
a mercy I noticed it in time, for had I put my feet
to the fire without first thawing it, I might have had
serious trouble, and have lost it, after great suffering.
A gentleman I knew, who got his feet frozen in 1813,
in marching with his regiment from Halifax, in Nova
Scotia, to Niagara — a wonderful achievement in the
depth of winter, through an uninhabited wilderness
buried in snow — never perfectly recovered the use
of them, and walked lame to the day of his death.

In our early days in Canada, the sacred duty of
hospitality was observed with a delightful readiness
and freeness. A person who had not the means of
paying might have travelled from one end of the
country to another, without requiring money, and he
would everywhere have found a cheerful welcome.
The fact was that the sight of a strange face was a
positive relief from the monotony of everyday life,
and the news brought by each visitor was felt to be
as pleasant to hear, as the entertainment could be for
him to receive. But selfish thoughts did not, after
all, dim the beautiful open-handedness of backwoods
hospitality. No thought of any question or doubt
rose in the matter — to como to the door was to rest
for the night, and share the best of the house. I
was once on my way westward to the St. Clair, from
London, Canada West, just in the interval between
the freezing of the roads and the fall of the snow.

Icome.
was a

ly life,

b to be
be for

t, after
^woods
doubt
to rest
[use. 1
ir, from
►etween
le snow.

Hospitality, 155

The stage could not run, nor was travelling by any-
kind of vehicle practicable ; indeed, none could have
survived the battering it would have got, had it
been brought out. As I could not wait doing nothing
for an indefinite time, till snow made sleighing pos-
sible, which I was told by the stage proprietor " might
be a week, might be a fortnight," I determined to
walk the sixty miles as best I could.

But such roads ! As to walking, it was impossible ;

I had rather to leap from one hillock of frozen mud

to another, now in the middle, now at each side, by

turns. There was a little snow, which only made my

diflSculties greater, clogging the feet, and covering up

holes. For yards together, the road had been washed

away by the rains, and its whole surface was dotted

with innumerable little frozen lakes, where the water

had lodged in the huge cups and craters of mud which

joined each other in one long network the whole way.

It was a dreadful scramble, in which daylight was

absolutely necessary to save broken legs. No man

could have got over it in the dark. In the early

afternoon, I reached a tavern at the roadside and had

dinner, but as I was told that there was another, seven

miles ahead, I thought I could reach it before night,

and thus get so much nearer my journey's end. But

1 had reckoned beyond my powers, and darkness fell

while I was as yet far from my goal. Luckily, a

little log-house at a distance showed itself near the

road by the light through its windows. Stumbling

156 Hospitality,

towards it as I best could, I told them how I was
benighted, and asked if I could get shelter til]
morning.

" Come in, sir," said the honest proprietor, " an'
ye're welcome," He proved to be a decent shoe-
maker ; a youiig man, with a tidy young woman for
his wife , and as I entered, he beckoned me to be
BBL 1, while he continued at his work on an old
shoe, by the help of a candle before him.

" Bad roads," said I.

" Oh, very," answered my host. " I never puts
any man away from my door ; nobody could get to
the tavern over sich roads as them. Take your coat
off, and make yourself comfortable."

I did as I was told, and chatted with the couple
about all the ordinary topics of backwoods conversa-
tion — the price of land — the last crops — ^how long he
had been there, and so on, till tea, or as they called
it, supper ; for Canadians generally take only three
meals a day. And a right hearty meal I made,
from a display of abundance of snowy bread, excel-
lent butter, ham in large slices, and as much tea
as there might be water in the kettle, for tea is the
weak point in bush fare. When bedtime came, I found
there was only one bed in the house, and could not
imagine how they were to do with me ; but this was
soon solved by their dragging the feather bed off,
and bringing it out where I was, from the inner
room, and spreading it on the floor opposite the

fire. I
selves ai
they wo
Next m(
I was ag
a word i
"He woi
a meal tc
I had to
good-day,
kindness a
journey, I
befeJ me in
and that ju
were so fr
hence, whe
taverns tolc
through the!
giad to fojjj
much alike,!
me to leave i
fi)!" when 1 1
showed itselj
however, anc
that had beej
made its appi
Jookforit,!
starting. In|
into a wide

■%■

pouple
versa-
)ngbe
called
r three
made,
excel-
led tea
is the
[found
)iild not
bhis was
led off,
[Q inner
)fflte tho

Nearly Lost in the Woods » 157

fire. Nothing would induce them to keep it to them-

gelves and give me anything else ; I was their guest, and

they would have me entertained as well as they could.

Next morning, a famous breakfast was got ready, and

I was again made to sit down with them. But not

a word would the honest feUow hear about money.

« He would never be the worse for giving a bed and

a meal to a traveller, and I was very welcome." So

I had to thank them very sincerely and bid them

good-day, with their consciousness of having done a

kindness as their only reward. On this second day's

journey, I had the most awkward mishap that ever

befel me in the woods. I was all but lost in them,

and that just as the sun was about to set. The roads

were so frightful that I could hardly get on, and

hence, when the landlord of one of the wayside

taverns told me I would save some miles by cutting

through the bush at a point he indicated, I was very

glad to follow his advice. But trees are all very

much alike, and by the time I got to where he told

me to leave the road, I must have become confused ;

for when I did leave it, not a sign of any track

showed itself, far or near. I thought I could find it,

however, and pushed on, as I fancied, in the direction .

that had been pointed out to me. But, still, no road

made its appearance, and, finally, in turning round to

look for it, I forgot which way to set myself, on again

starting. In fact I was lost, fairly lost. I had got

into a wide cedar-swamp, the water in which was

iiii'

158 Nearly Lost in the Woods.

only slightly frozen, so that I had to leap from the
root of one tree to that of another. Not a sound
was to be heard, nor a living creature to be seen.
Only trees, trees, trees, black and unearthly in the
lessening light. I hardly knew what to do. If forced
to stay there all night, I might — indeed, I would likely
— be frozen to death : but how to get out ? That I
ultimately did, I know, but by no wisdom of mine.
There was absolutely nothing to guide me. My
deliverance was the merciful result of having by
chance struck a slight track, which I forthwith fol-
lowed, emerging at last, not, as I had hoped, some
miles ahead, but a long way behind where I had
entered.

Involuntar

wiJderiiea

grouse —

winter's p

159

CHAPTER IX.

Involuntary racing A backwoods parsonage — Graves in the
wildernesB — Notions of equality — Arctic winters— Ruffed
grouse — Indian fishing in winter — A marriage — Our
winter's pork.

Among our occasional visitors, we had, one year, at

one time, no fewer than three ministers, who chanced

t(sbd on some Home Missionary Society business in

our quarter, and very nice company they were.

Some of their stories of the adventures that befel

them in their journeys amused us greatly. One was

a stout, hearty Irishman, the two others Englishmen ;

and what with the excitement of fresh scenes every

day, and the healthy open air, of which they had

perhaps too much, they were all in high spirits. At

one part they had crossed a tract of very rolling

land, who e the road was all up one slope and down

another, and this, as everything happened at the

time to be one great sheet of ice, was no pleasant

variety to their enjoyments. There was too little

snow lor sleighing, and, yet, to ride down these

treacherous descents in a wheeled conveyance, was

impossible. At the top of an extra long one they had

1 therefore determined, not only to get out, but to

k\ke the horses out, one of them leading them down,

iif

')i

r
M

160 inioluntary Bacing,

while the other two brought down the vehicle. It
was a large, double-seated affair, with four wheels,
and a pole for two horses; and it was thought that
the best plan to get it down safely was for one of the
two to go to the tongue of the pole, in front, while
the other held back behind. Everything thus
arranged, at a given signal the first movement over
the edge of the slope was made, and all went well
enough for a few steps. But the worthy man be-
hind soon felt that he had no power whatever, with
such slippery footing, to retard the quickening speed
of the wheels, while the stout Irishman, who chanced
to be at the front, felt, no less surely, that he could
neither let his pole go, nor keep it from driving him
forward at a rate to which he was wholly unaccus-
tomed. "Stop it. Brooks— I'll be killed I— it'll
be over me !" " I can't stop it," passed and re-
passed in a moment, and, at last, poor Mr. Brooks's
feet having gone from under him, the whole affair
was consigned to his Irish friend, whom the increas-
ing momentum of his charge was making fly down
the hill at a most unclerical rate. " I'll be killed !
I'm sure it'll be over me 1" was heard to rise from
him as he dashed away into the hollow beneath.
His two friends not only could do nothing to help
him, but could not move for laughing, mixed with
anxiety, tiU at last the sufferer managed to find re-
lief when he had been carried a considerable way
up the next slope.

nwii

A BacI:woods Parsonage* 161

One of the three wore a contrivance over his fur
cup in travelling which, so far as I have noticed, was
unique. It was made of brown Berlin wool, much
in the shape of one of the helmets of the Knights
Templars, in tlie Temple Church, the only opening
being for part of the face, while what you might
call its tails hung down over his shoulders. He
looked very much like one of the men in the dress
for going down in a diving-bell when it was on him,
his head standing out like a huge ball from his
shoulders. Their entertainment was, it appeared,
sometimes strange enough. One gave an account of
a night he had spent in a backwoods parsonage,
where the mice had run over his pillow all night,
the only furniture in his room, besides the bed, being
some pieces of bacon and a bit of cheese. He had
had the only spare room in the house, in fact, which,
in the absence of guests, served as a store-room.
Nor was this the worst; though it was in the depth
of winter, he could see the stars through chinks of
the roof as he lay, and snow having come on in
the night, he found it lying deep on his coverlet
when he awoke. What some clergymen suffer in
the poorer districts must, indeed, be terrible. A
touching thing about the one who could offer only
such poor accommodation to a friend, was his point-
ing to a little mound in the few feet of enclosure
before his door, and saying that his only son, an
infant, was buried there. The way in which graves

lf«'

€

hi!

163 . Notions of Eqtiality,

are scattered up and down Canada is, indeed, one of
the most affecting sights, as one passes. Churchyards
are, of course, only found where population has ga-
thered to some extent, and, hence, all who die in tbe
first periods of settlement used to be buried on their
own farms. Very often, in riding through old parts
of the country, a little paling in the side of a field
tells the story of some lonely grave. Tbe Moslems
who feel themselves about to die in the desert pass
away with a parting prayer that the Resurrection
Angel may not forget their lonely resting-places at
the last day. I have often thought that these patri-
archs of the woods might have closed their life with
the same petition.

One of our visitors told us an amusing story of
the notions of equality that everywhere prevailed.
He had been visiting an old Canadian township, with
his wife and a young lady, their friend, and found,
when night came, that there was only one bed unoc-
cupied, which was appropriated to himself and his
wife. Their friend was, therefore, led away to an-
other room in which there were two beds — one Ibr
the host and his wife, the other for the servant, and
to this she was pointed, with the information thai if
she lay close she could find room at the girl's back.
Not altogether relishing this arrangement, she made
some excuse for returning to the " parlour," where
she sat for a time, only coming to her sleeping-place
when she could not help it. But that she shorild

Arctic Winters.

163

ever have hesitated in the matter seemed to all, alike,
unaccountable, and, our visitor assured us, had so
impressed their minds, that, a good while after, he
learned that they still talked of it, and spoke of her
pride as marking unusual depravity.

In later years I was happy to make the acquain-
tance, in one of the Canadian towns, of Captain

L , who had commanded one of the expeditions

in search of Sir John Franklin, and, in many con-
versations with him, learned particulars of winter
life in the more northern part of the American
continent, which, in comparison, make that of Canada
even inviting. To think of undressing, for eight
months of the year, in these fearful regions, is out of
the question. The dress, frozen stiff through the
day, is thawed into soaking wetness by the heat of a
snow-house at night, in which each sits as close to
his neighbour as is possible, with no light but that
of a miserable lamp, and imprisoned on every side
by the heaped-up blocks of snow. In Canada, we
can always get ourselves dried, whatever the wea-
ther; but there, aU alike, when not on board ship,
are wet, month after month, each night through the
winter. Happening one day to hear a boy whist-
ling the negro song, " Old Uncle Ned," the captain
stopped me with the question, " Where do you think
I first heard that song?" Of course I told him I
could not tell. " It was on a terrible night, in
Prince Regent's Inlet, when we were crohbing H.

ifft

164j Ruffed Grouse.

Tlie snow was falling very heavily, and the storm
roaring through the hummocks, and I had called a
halt behind a great piece of ice which offered a
shelter. I thought we had better build a snow-
house behind it and take refuge for the night. The
men squatted down in this, I in their midst, all of
us huddled together as close as possible, and, to keep
up their spirits through the dismal hours, they began
singing one thing after another, and that among the
rest." This was worse than the encampments of
surveyors, bad though they be.

There was not a great deal of sport to be had, if
we exclude the deer, in our neighbourhood. When
we went out with our guns, the snow was generally
marked by a good many squirrel tracks, and the
woodpeckers were still to be seen, but game, properly
so called, was not abundant. There was some how-
ever, and we managed to get our proportion now and
then for our table. One day, in passing a tree,
I heard a sound something like that of a grouse
rising, and on turning, to my astonishment, found it
came from a bird like our partridges, which had
lighted on a bough close at hand. A moment, and it
was in a fair way for contributing to our dinner.
These birds are in Canada called partridges, but
their proper name is the ruffed grouse. When
sprung, it flies with great vigour and with a loud
wliirring noise, sweeping to a considerable distance
through the woods before it alights. The cock has a

Ruffed Grouse. 165

singular power of making a drumming noise with his
wings, which, when heard in the silence of the woods,
has a strange effect. Standing on an old fallen log,
and inflating its whole body as a turkey-cock does,
strutting and wheeling about with great stateliness,
he presently begins to strike with his stiffened wings
in short and quick strokes, which become more and
more rapid until they run into each other, making
the sound to which I allude. It is no doubt the way
in which he pays his addresses to his mate, or calls
her from a distance. They always perch in trees,
delighting in the thick shad'i of the spruce or the
pine, and are perfect models of stupidity, letting you
get every advantage in your efforts to shoot them. I
have known one sit, without attempting to stir, while
a dog was getting frantic in his appeals at the tree
foot that you should come and kill it. If your gun
snap you may t&ke your time, and, if necessary, may
draw your char- ;i^ and reload, without your victim
moving. He will B',and and gape at you during the
whole process, even if your dog be barking and
tearing a tV-w vards below him. It is even said that
you may bag a whole covey of them if you shoot the
lowest first and go upwards. I myself have seen my
brother, on coming on some of them when without
his gun, run home perhaps half a mile for it, and
find them still sitting where they were, when he came
back, as if waiting to bo 3hot. They are delicious
eating, and so tender is their skin that you must not

] 66 Indian Fishing in Winter.

think of carrying them by the head, which would be
sure to come off with the weight of the body.

One day, walking down tL'^ ice of the river, a
curious appearance presented itself at some distance
before me, like a brown heap, or mound, thrown
up on the white surface. Making my way towards
it, when about a hundred yards off, I thought I saw
it move a little, and, halting for a moment, perceived
that it really did so. I was half inclined to go h>.me
for my gun to make myself safe, when suddenly
the head and shoulders of an Indian, raised from the
edge of the buffalo skin, for such it was, dissipated
any alarm. Going up to him, I found he was em-
ployed in fishing, and partly for protection, partly to
keep the fish from being alarmed, had completely
covered himself with the hide which had so attracted
my attention. He had cut a hole through the two-
feet-thick ice about a foot square, and sat with a
bait hanging from one hand, while in the other he
held a short spear to transfix any deluded victim
which it might tempt to its destruction. The bait
was an artificial fish of white wood, with leaden eyes
and tin fins, and about eight or nine inches in length.
He seemed rather annoyed at my disturbing him;
but on my giving him a small ball of twine I hap-
pened to have with me we became good enough friends,
and after a few minutes I left him.

There was a marriage on the river the first winter
we were there, which in some respects amused us.

A Marriage, 167

The bride was an elegant girl, of genteel manners ;
and the bridegroom was a well-educated and very re-
spectable young man ; but that either of them should
have thought of marrying in such a state of poverty
as was common to both was a thing to be thought of
only in Canada. The bridegroom's wealth was, I
beUeve, limited to some twenty pounds, and the
bride brought for her portion fifty acres of land and
some stock, which a relative gave her as a dowry.
But money she had none, and even the shoes in
which she went to be married, as I afterwards
learned, had been borrowed from a married sister.
Their future home was simply a dilapidated log-
lioiise, which stood with its gable to the roadside,
perhaps eight feet by eighteen, forming two apart-
ments, an addition, which had once been intended
to be made, so as to join the end next the road at
right angles, but remained imfinished, being shut off
by a door of thin deal, which, alone, kept the wind
out at that corner. We crossed the ice to the
American side to have the ceremony perfcrmed, after
which there was a grand dinner, with true Canadian
abundance, in her patron's house, in Avhich, up
to that time, she had had her home. Their own
slianty not being as yet habitable, the yoimg
couple remained there till it was repaired, so
as to let them move to it. But no money could
be spent on the mansion ; whatever was to be done
had to be done by the kind aid of amateurs^ if any

^*#«»
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■4^

168

Primitive Furniture.

9mm

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ill

Canadians deserve that name, whatever they may
have to undertake. The chimney had to be rebuilt
of mud, the walla caulked and filled up with mud,
some panes of glass put in the two little windows, a
wooden latch to be fitted to the thin deal that formed
the outer door, and the whole had to be white-
washed, after which all was pronounced ready. The
furniture was as primitive as the house. A few
dishes on a rude shelf, a pot or two, a few wooden
chairs and a table, set off the one end; while, in the
other, an ajDology for a carpet, and a few better
things — the faint traces of richer days in their
fathers' houses- — made up their parlour ; a wooden
bench on the one side, ingeniously disguised as a
sofa, reminding you of the couplet in Goldsmith's
description of the village ale-house, where was seen

** The chest, contrived a double debt to pay —
A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day."

The produce of the fifty acres, which Avere mostly
cleared, but which, having been the farm of an old
French settler, were well nigh worn out for a time,
and had wretched fences, was to be the support of
the young housekeepers, though, less than a ye.ir
before, the husband had been a student in one of the
universities in Scotland. To have seen him when
fairly installed in his agricultural honours, in a
wretched straw hat, blue shirt, cotton trowsers, and
heavy coarse boots, with a long blue beech rod in
his hand, onouting to his oxen, it would hardly have

Our Winter's Pork,

169

occurred to an old countryman that he was anything
but a labourer. I am thankful to say, however, that
he ultimately escaped from the misery in which his
imprudent marriage threatened to involve him, by
getting into a pretty good mercantile situation, in
which, I hope, he is now comfortably settled. I
should have said, that, having no money with which to
hire labour, all the work on his farm had to be done
by his own hands, without any aid. The trifle he
had at first, melted like snow, the two having set out
with it to make a wedding-trip, in a sleigh, to a town
seventy miles off, from which they returned with
little but the empty purse.

A little before Christmas a great time came on —
the high solemnity of the annual pig-killing for the
Avinter. It was bad enough for the poor swine, no
doubt, but the human details were, in some respects,
sufficiently ludicrous. The first year we got a man
to do the killing, and a woman to manage the rest ;
and, between them, with a razor-blade fixed into a
piece of wood for a scraper, they won our admiration
by their skill. I mention it only for an illustra-
tion it afforded of the misery to which the poor
Indians are often reduced in the winter. A band of
them made their appearance almost as soon as we had
begun, nnd hung round, for the sake of the entrails
and other offal, till all was over. Of course we gave
them good pieces, but they were hungry enough to
have needed the whole, could we have spared it. As

'M*^*

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i ''"^' )

X-OBBB I

170 Sufferings of the Indians.

soon as anything was thrown aside, there was a scram-
ble of both men and women for it. Each, as soon as
he had secured his share, twisted it round any piece
of stick that lay near, and, after thrusting it for a
minute into the fire, where the water was heating for
scalding the pigs, devoured it greedily, filthy and
loathsome as it was. They must often be in great
want in the cold weather, when game is scarce. I
was coming fi-om the bush one morning when I saw
an Indian tugging with all his might at something
that lay in the middle of the road. On nearer ap-
proach, it proved to be one of our pigs which had
died of some disease during the night. The poor
fellow had put his foot on its side, and was pulling
with all his strength at the hind-leg to try to tear off
the ham, but a pig's skin is very tough, and though
he pulled at it till he had crossed and recrossed the
road several times, he had to give up the battle at
last, and leave it as he found it. A friend of mine
who was lost in the woods for several days, and, in the
end, owed his deliverance to his falling in with a few
wigwams, told me that the Indians informed him
that they were sometimes for three days together
without food.

171

CHAPTER X.

Our neighbours — Insect plagues — Military officers' families in

the bush — An awkward mistake — Dr. D nearly shot

for a bear — Major M — Our candles — Fortunate

escape from a fatal accident.

We used to have delightful evenings sometimes, when
neighbouring settlers came to our house, or when we
went to their houses. Scanty though the population
was, we had lighted on a section of the country which
had attracted a number of educated and intelligent
men who, with their families, made capital society.

Down the river we had Captain G , but he was

little respected by reason of his irregular habits,
which, however, might be partly accounted for by the
effect on his brain of a fierce slash on the head which
he had got at the storming of Ciudad Rodrigo. Then,

above us, we had, about three miles off, Mr. R ,

an English gentleman-farmer, who had found his
way to the backwoods, after losing much money from
one cause or another. He was one of the church-
wardens, and leader of the choir in the Episcopal
chapel, as it was called, for there is no church es-
tablishment in Canada; a man, moreover, of much
general information, a good shot, and, what was better,
a good Christian. He had always plenty of fresh

^jn

'II»H,.

172 Insect Plague i.

London newspapers of the stiff Tory class, but
acceptable to all alike in such a place as St. Clair.
His hoi.ao was at the foot of a steep bank, and as

there were only himself and Mrs. R to occupy

it, its size was not so striking as its neatness. A
broad vei mdah ran along the side of it next the
river, its green colour contrasting very pleasantly
with the whiteness of the logs of the house. There
were three apartments within; one a sitting-room,
the other two bedrooms, one of which was always at
the disposal of a visitor. Over the mantelpiece hung
a gun and a rifle, and on it stood, as its special orna-
ment, a silver cup given by one of the English
Cabinet JVIinisters as the prize in a shooting-match in

B shire, and won by Mr. R . There was

only one drawback to a visit to him, at least in sum-
mer, and that was the certainty of your getting more
than you bargained for in the insect way when you
went into the barn to put up your horse. Fleas are
wonderfully plentiful throughout Canada, but some
parts are worse than others. A sandy soil seemed
to breed them, as the nfud of the Nile was once

thought to breed worms, and Mr. R 's barn stood

on a spot which the fleas themselves might have
selected as a favourable site for a colony. Under
the shelter of his sheds they multiplied to a wonderflil
extent. So incurable was the evil that it had come
to be thought only a source of merriment.

" Ah, you've been at the barn, have you ? ha, ha !"

Insect Plagues, 173

was all the pity yon could get for any remark on the
plentifulness of insect life in these quarters. " It
isn't half so bad," he added one day, " as the preacher
over the river who sat down at the doorstep of the
chapel to look over his notes before service, and had
liardly got into the pulpit before he found that a
whole swarm of ants had got up his trousers. Yoif.
may think liw.v his hands went below the bookhoard
on each side " him, but it wouldn't do. lie had to
tell the conJ3 pinion that he felt suddenly indisposed,
and would be back in a few moments, which he took
advantage of to turn the infested garment inside out
behind the cliapel, and after having freed them of his
tormentors, went up to his post again, and got through
in peace."

" I don't think he was much worse off," struck in
a friend, " than the ladies are with the grasshoppers.
The horrid creatures, with their great hooky legs,
and their jumping six feet at a time, make dreadful
work when they take a notion of springing, just as
folks are passing over them. I've seen them myself
through a thin muslin dress making their way hither
and thither in service-time, and there they must stay
till all is over."
But I am forgetting the list of our river friends.

There were, besides Mr. B , four or five miles

above us, Captain W , who had been flag-lieute-
nant of a frigate off St. Helena while Bonaparte was
a captive there, and had managed to preserve a lock

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174 Officers* Families in the Bush,

of his soft, light brown hair; and Mr. L , bro-
ther of one of our most eminent English judges, and
himself once a midshipman under Captain Marryatt;

and Post- Captain V and the clergyman — the

farthest only ten miles off. There were, of course,
plenty of others, but they were of a very different
class — French Canadians, agricultural labourers
turned farmers, and the like, with very little to
attract in their society.

The niunber of genteel families who had betaken
themselves to Canada was, in those days, astonishing.
The fact of the Governors being then mostly mili-
tary men, who offered inducements to their old com-
panions in arms who had not risen so high in rank
as they, led to crowds of that class burying them-
selves in the woods all over the province. I dare
say they did well enough in a few instances, but in
very many cases the experiment only brought misery
upon themselves and their families. Brought up in
ease, and unaccustomed to work with their hands,
it was not to be expected that they could readily
turn mere labourers, which, to be a farmer in Canada,
is absolutely necessary. I was once benighted about
forty miles from home, and found shelter for the
night in a log-house on the roadside, where I shared
a bed on the floor with two labourers, the man of
the house and his wife sleeping at the other 3nd of
the room. After breakfast the next mornmg, in
grand style, with cakes, " apple sauce" in platefiils,

, bro-
a, and
Tyatt;
1 — ^the
course,
ifferent
bourers
ittle to

betaken
jnisbing.
jtly mili-
old com-
ti in rank
ng them-
Idare
;es, but in
fht misery
[gbt up in
>ir hands,
^Id readily
in Canada,
Lted about
^er for the
-e I shared

,e matt °^
bher ^nd °^
Lorning, ^
platefnls,

Officers* Families in the Bush, 175

bread white as snow, meat, butter, cream, cheese,
fritters, and colourless green tea of the very worst
description, I asked them if they could get any con-
veyance to take me home, as the roads were very
heavy for travelling on foot, from the depth of the
snow, and its slipperiness in the beaten track. They
themselves, however, had none, but I was directed

to Captain L 's, close at hand, where I was told

I might find one. The house stood on a rising
ground, which was perfectly bare, all the trees hav-
ing been cut down for many acres round. There
was not even the pretence of garden before the doors,
nor any enclosure, but the great shapeless old log-
house stood, in all its naked roughness, alone. Mrs.
L , I found, was an elderly lady of elegant man-
ners, and had seen a great deal of the world, having
been abroad with her husband's regiment in the
Mediterranean and elsewhere. She had met Sir
Walter Scott at Malta, and was full of gossip about
him and society generally in England and elsewhere.
Her dress struck me on entering. It had once been
a superb satin, but that was very many years before.
There was hardly anything to be called furniture in
the house, a few old wooden chairs, supplemented by
some blocks of wood, mere cuts of trees, serving for
seats, a great deal table, and a " grand piano !" which,

Mrs. L told me, they bought at Vienna, forming

all that could be seen. The very dog-irons on which
their fire rested were broken. Overhead, I heard

***

176 Officers^ Families in the Bush,

feet pattering on the loose open boards which formed
the floor of some apartments, iand was presently in-
formed that " the dressing-room" of the Misses L
was above, and that they would soon be down.
Not an inch of carpet, nor any ornament on the walls,
nor anything, in fact, to take off the forlorn look of
emptiness, was in the place; but the stateliness of
language and manner on the part of the hostess was
the same as if it had been a palace. After a time, a
lad, the youngest of the household, made his appear-
ance, and was informed of my wish to get on to
Bidport as quickly as possible. He was introduced
as having been born in Corfu, and as speaking Greek
as fluently as English; but the poor fellow had a
bad chance of ever making much use of his lin-
guistic acquirements in such a place. The horse
having to be caught, and a jumper to be " fixed," I
had a long rest before setting out, and, in the mean-
time, the sound of the axe, and of wooden pins
being driven home, intimated that the vehicle was

being manufactured. Captain L , it appeared,

had come there in the idea that the country would
Boon be filled up, and that, in some magical way, the
soil, covered thourh it was with trees, would yield
him a living at v- plentiful and easily procured.
But years had passed on, the money got for his
commission was spent, and the township round him
was still almost a wilderness. From one step to
another the family sank into the deepest want, until

Mrs,
mak:
and I
hawls
orpo
the c
totally
or, at
the st]
sisted (
shortly
excellen
thera m
ahip, fi-c
po?erty
declared
man by I
only so n
had come
was cJeai
^nner, wl
but a few
offer him.
I and the fg
' corner of
I should be
' never
^Js unspeak
I the case

iown.

walls,

ook of

less of

iss was

time, a

ippear-

; on to

reduced

ig Greek

N had a

his lin-

ae horse

fixed," 1

lb mean-
Len pins
licle was
ippeared,
Uy would
way, the
lid yield
[procured.
]t for his
arnd him
step to
ant, tia^^

Officers' Families in the Bush, 177

jKjg^ 1j was at last forced to try to get food, by

making up the wreck of her former finery into caps
and such like for the wives of the boors around, and
hawking them about, till she could sell them for flour
or potatoes. It could not have been expected that
the captain could work like a labourer — ^he was
totally unfit for it, and would have died over his task,
or, at best, could have made no living; and, except
the stripling who was to drive me, the family con-
sisted only of daughters. One of these, however,
shortly after my visit, actually managed to make an
excellent marriage even in that horrible place; but
thera was a dash of the ludicrous even in the court-
ship, from the pinching and straits to which their
poverty subjected them. The suitor had not as yet
declared himself, and the f"ct of his being a gentle-
man by birth and education made his frequent visits
only so much the more embarrassing. One day he
had come in the forenoon, and stayed so long, that it
was clear he had no intention of leaving before
dinner, while there was literally nothing in the house
but a few potatoes, which they could not of course
offer him. What was to be done? Mrs. L
and the fair one, her eldest daughter, retired to a
comer of the room to consult, and, lest anything
I should be overheard, they spoke in Italian, which
they never dreamed of the suitor understanding. To
[his unspeakable amusement, the whole perplexity of
[the case forthwith proceeded to unfold itself in

178

An Awkward Mistake,

foreign syllables. "The nasty fellow, what in the
world wont he go away for?" says the daughter;
" look at him there, sitting like a fool when people
are in such trouble. He ought to know that we have
nothing in the pantry but a few horrid potatoes."
And so forth. This was quite enough for the
visitor. He suddenly recollected that he had another
call to make, and their difficulty about him was over
in a minute. But the marriage came off notwith-
standing, and a handsome couple they made.

After a time the sleigh was ready, such as it was —
a rough box, on rough runners, close to the ground,
with a piece of plank for a seat, and a bed-quilt for a
wrapper; and late that night I got home, a half-
sovereign and his expenses making the poor young
feUow right glad I had chanced to come his way.

One day I was much diverted by an incident

narrated to me by Mr. B . " You know," said

he, " Dr. D , from Toronto, was riding along in

a sleigh yesterday on some business or other. You
are aware he is very short and stout, and he had on a
buffalo coat, and a great fur cap. Well, down goes
his horse, its feet balled with the snow, I suppose;
and there it lay, helpless, on its side, under the
shafts. It was pretty near old John Thompson's, the
Scotchman. Out gets the doctor to help his poor
horse by unbuckling its straps and so on, and, being
very short-sighted, he had to get down his face
almost on it. Jus' at this time, Mrs. Thompson

chan<

appai

Shei

John,

ahors

for the

But

marriaj

Youmj

is so In

Those (

muchm

KateS-

an eJega

other sui

father, hi

taken to

another,

a£

three or
who had
Captain
than the
with the
elderly mi

J remembj

morning,

I finding hir

I cut off enl

1 the

liter;

)eople

jhave

itoes.'

yt the

mother

as over

otwith-

Ltwas—
ground,
ailt for a
, a half-
pr young

way.
incident

LOW," said

along in
ler. You

had on a
[down goes

suppose;
I under the
Jipson's, tlie
|p his poor

and, being
[n his face

Thompson

Marriages in the Bush 179

chanced to come to tho door, and there was this
apparition, in the distance, in the middle of the road.
She instantly made up her mind what it was. * Eh,
John, John, bring your gun ; here's a bear devoorin'
a horse!' But they didn't shoot the doctor after all,
for the old man found out in time who it was."

But I have to say a little more about some of the
marriages in our neighbourhood, or not far from it.
You may easily suppose that it is not every one who

is so lucky as Miss L , of whom I have spoken.

Those of both sexes who made poor matches were
much more numerous in those early days. There was

Kate S , the daughter of a captain in the army,

an elegant girl, who, for want, I suppose, of any
other suitor, married a great coarse clown, whom her
father, had he been living then, would hardly have
taken to work for them. WTien he died, she married
another, his fellow, and ended, on his dying, by
taking, as her third husband, a working tailor, with

three or four children. There was Major M ,

who had come to the country about the same time as

Captain L ; nothing could be more wretched

than the appearance of his house on the road-side,
with the great trees almost close to it, himself an
elderly man, and his only children two daughters.
I remember passing on horseback one frightftil
mommg, when the roads were at the worst, and
finding him on the top of a prostrate log, trying to
cut off enough for his fire. His daughter finally

W^Mi

i'-:i

I f^U H'

180 Scarcity of Candles,

married a small tradesman in a neighbouring town ;
and the major thankfully went to close his days with
his son-in-law, in far greater comfort than he had
known for a long time. Young fellows married girls
whom their mothers would hardly have taken for
servants in England ; partly, I suppose, because tliere
were not in some parts many to choose from, and
partly, no doubt, because their position as farm-,
labourers, which they had really come to be, had
lowered their tastes. I remember seeing a young
man come out of a village tavern with a short black
pipe in his mouth, a long beech rod in his hand, and
a blue blouse, surmounted by a wretched straw hat,
for his dress, his whole appearance no better tiian
that of any labourer roimd. He was driving
an ox-waggon, but, before starting, a lady at my
side in the stage, which had stopped at the tavern,
accosted him, and they entered freely into conversa-
tion together. He turned out to be a son of

Colonel , who lived in a wretched log-hut not

far distant. He told his friend that he hoped to get
a good berth that summer as purser on one of the
small lake steamers; and I hope he succeeded.
Meanwhile, he was mixing with the herd of '' bush-
whackers," as Canadians say, at the tavern fire,
himself almost one of them.

We had one drawback in the long winter nights-
there was oflen a great scarcity of candles. One was
lighted at supper, but it was put out immediately

Air-hole* in the Ice,

181

own;

I with

e had

1 girls

en for

etliere

n, and
farm-

oe, had
young

rtbkck

ind, and

raw liat,

tter than
driving

ly at my

le tavern,
lonversa-
son of

|g-hut not
led to get
»ne of the
jucceeded.
)f "bush-
Lvem fire»

after the meal ; and we had to sit at the light of the fire,
which we made as bright as possible by a supply of
resinous pine, from time »o time. We, sometimes,
had enough of candles, indeed, but I think we were
more often without them. Some lard in a saucer,
with a piece of rag for a wick, was one of our plans
in addition to the pine, when we wished to see our
way to our beds.

There was very nearly a fatal accident down the
river one day, occasioned by a sleigh, and the folks in
it, with the horses as well, breaking through an air-
hole in the ice, that is, a spot at which the air
imprisoned below the ice had found its escape,
leaving the sur&ce only very slightly frozen. How
they got out I hardly know, but the ice round the
hole was quite strong ; and after one of the party
had clambered upon it he managed to fish out the
rest, who had clung to the sleigh. Even the horses
were saved; but the method taken with them seemed
to me as hazardous as it was strange : ropes were
passed round their necks as quickly as possible, and
when by this means they were half choked, they
floated so high that they were got out with com-
parative ease.

ur nights-
One was

lediately

182

CHAPTER XL

"Now Spring returns**— Sugar-making— Bush psalmody-
Bush preaching— Worship under difficulties — A clerical
Mrs. Partington — Biology — A ghost — "It slips good"—
Squatters.

By the middle of March the sun had begun, in the
very open places, to show some power, especially in
the little spots sheltered from the cold by the woods,
where his beams found an entrance to the soil.
Here and there, traces of the bare earth began to re-
appear, and the green points of the succulent plants
were preparing to burst out into their first leaves;
the buds, too, on some of the trees, were distinctly
visible, but there was a long time still before us
between these first promises of spring and their
actual realization. The last snowfall came in the
middle of April, and, between that time and the first
of May, the weather could hardly be said to be settled
into spring. But already, towards the third week of
March, the birds had made up their minds to come
back to us, in expectation of the opening leaf. Flocks
of blue jays, in their beautiful plumage, blue wt off
with white and black, flitted from the top of one of
the lower trees to another, chattering incessantly.
Everything had been desolate around us for long,

I i! I

I, in the
cially in
e "woodfl,
the soil,
antore-
tnt plants
t leaves;
distinctly
jefore us
md their
le in the
1 the first
be settled
d week of
3 to come
if. Flocks
lue 3et off
of one of
icessantly.
for long,

Sugar'tnahing. 183

and now to see such signs of returning warmth and
verdure was unspeakably delightful.

With the first opening of spring, and while yet the
snow lay thick in the fields and the woods, the
season of maple sugar-making commenced. It
seemed extraordinary to me for a long time that
sugar should be got in quantities from a great forest
tree, the modest sugar-cane having been always in
my mind the only source of it — except, indeed, the
sugar-beet, by the growth of which Napoleon tried
to make France furnish her own sugar, instead of
having to buy English colonial sugar from any of
the European ports. But a great quantity is made,
in Canada and the United States, from the maple,
both for sale and home use, a vast amount being
eaten by the native-bom Canadians as a sweetmeat,
just as we eat candy ; and very little else is known
in many parts of the backwoods for household pur-
poses. The best days for sugar-making are the
bright ones, after frosty nights, the sap running then
most freely. The first thing we had to do with our
" bush," which is the name given to the maples pre-
served for sugar-making, was to see that each tree
was provided with a trough, which we made out of
pine, or some other sofl wood, by cutting a log into
lengths of perhaps two feet, then splitting each
in two, and hollowing the flat side so that it would
hold about a bucketful of sap. We next took narrow
pieces of wood about a foot long, and made spouts

184 Sugar 'Mahinff,

of them with a gouge, afler which we made a cnt in
each tree, with the axe, three or four inches long and
an inch deep, in a slanting direction, adding another
straight cut at the lower end of it with the gouge,
that there might be no leaking, and sinking a hole for
a spout, where they met ; the gouge that cut the spouts
making the hole into which they were thrust. Below
these spouts the troughs were set to collect the sap,
which was carried as often as they were nearly full
to another, of enormous dimensions, close to the fire.
These colossal troughs are simply huge trunks of
trees hollowed out for the purpose ; ours would have
held fifty barrels. The emptying into this was made
every morning and evening until a large quantity
had been gathered, and then the boiling began in
large *' kettles," as they are called, made for the
purpose, and suspended over the blazing fire from a
stout pole, resting on two forked branches thrust into
the earth at each side. The sap once in the kettles
has a hard time of it : the fires are kept up in royal
brightness for days together, not being allowed to die
out even during the night.

It was a very pleasant time with us, though it was
hard work, and what with the white snow, the great
solemn trees, the wild figures dancing hither and
thither, and our loud merriment, it was very striking
when the evenings had set in. One of the kettles
was chosen for '' sugaring off," and had especially
assiduous watching. Not a moment's rest could its

;ut in
ig and
iiother
gouge,
kolefor
spouts
Below
lie sap,
rly M
l;he fire,
inks of
lid have
as made
quantity
)egan in
1 for the

from a
rust into
le kettles

in royal
edtodie

rh it was
the great
ther and

striking
e kettles
jspecially

could its

Sugar 'tnaJting, 185

unfortunate contents get from the inceflaant boiling
we kept up; fresh sap being added as often aa it
seemed to be getting too dry. In its rage, the sap
would every now and then make desperate efforts to
boil over ; but we were on the watch for this also^
and as soon as it manifested any intention of the
kind, we rubbed round the inside of the kettle with a
piece of pork-fat, beyond the limits of which it would
no more pass than if it had been inside some magio
circle. My sisters were as busy as we at every part of
the process, and their poor dresses showed abundant
and lasting memorials of their labours, in the rents
made in them by the bushes. What we were all like,
from head to foot, after a time, may be more easily
conceived than described. Our smudged faces, and
sugary, sloppy clothes, made us all laugh at one
another.

As the sap grew thicker with the incessant boiling,
another element was added to our amusement in the
stickiness of everything we handled. If we leaned
against a log at hand we were fast bound ; and the
pots, pans, ladles, buckets, axe-handles, troughs—
everything we touched, indeed, seemed to part from
US only with regret. We were fortunate in having
no young children amongst us, as they would, of
course, have been in the thick of the fray, and have
become half-crystallized before all was over. The
" clearing off" was managed by pouring in beaten
^ when the sap was beginning to get thick. Thift

0(B

?
n

J-'

II''

! Hi

h^ «Hj w'm'

! fv. ,

186 Sugar-maUvg,

served to bring all the impurities at once to the top, so
that we could readily skim them off. Several ingenious
ways had been told us of knowing when the process
was complete. One was by boring small holes in a
flat piece of wood, and blowing on it after dipping it
into the syrup ; the sugar going through the holes in
long bubbles, if it were boiled enough. Another
plan was to put a little on the snow, when, if it got
stiff, it was time to pour all out. Everything that
would hold it was then, forthwith, put into requi-
sition, after having been well greased to keep
the sugar from sticking, and, presently, we had cakes,
loaves, lumps, blocks, every shape, in fact, of rich
brown-coloured sugar of our own making. Some,
which we wanted to crystallize, was put into a barrel,
and stirred while cooling, which effectually answered
the purpose. Small holes bored in the bottom made
the sugar thus obtained whiter than the rest, by al-
lowing the molasses mingled with it to drain off. We
kept some sap for vinegar, which we made by simply
boiling three or four pailfuls imtil reduced to one,
and corking this up in a keg for a time.

For the first and second years the poorer settlers
have a dreadful job of it in the sugar bush, from not
having had sufficient time to fence it in from the
cattle, which from their intrusion are a constant
annoyance. They poke their great noses into every-
thing, and one taste of the sap is very much to tiiem
what they say the taste of blood is to a tiger, in

stimu

bravi

out g

bucke

ceed i

serious

acting

out the

annoya

out the

take a £

collect 1

having t

from a c<

over wet

obstructj

as light
The
us, as vfi
neighboi
a carniva
though
some of (
a single
gave not|
seemed tc
older andl
the more I

wwm

Sugar-making, 187

stimulating their thirst for more. In they come,
braving all risks for a sip of their much-loved nectar;
out go the spouts from the trees, over go the
buckets of sap, and, worse than all, if the brutes suc-
ceed in drinking any quantity, they are very often
seriously, if not mortally injured, their indulgence
acting on them very much as clover does, blowing
out their stomachs and even bursting them. Another
annoyance at first, is the not having had time to cut
out the " under brush," so as to make it possible to
take a sleigh with barrels on it, from tree to tree, to
collect the sap, with the help of oxen, and, hence,
having to carry bucket by bucket to the " kettles," often
from a considerable distance, which is no trifiing task,
over wet snow, and rough groimd, thick with every
obstruction. We were fortunate in this respect,
having been warned in time, so that everything was
as light as such work can be.

The sugaring-off day was rather a festivity with
us, as we followed the custom of a good many of our
neighbours, and invited some young folks to come to
a carnival on the warm sugar, which is very nice,
though I should not care to eat as much at a time as
some of our visitors did. The quantity of sap which
a single tree yields is astonishing. I think some
gave not less than fifty gallons, and the loss of it
seemed to do them good rather than harm. The
older and stronger the trees the better the sap, and
the more abimdant — a peculiarity which it would be

f^lfjj, il^i

ilili

ii!

■'..n

:l'\

188 JBush Psalmody^

well for each of us to be able to have said of his own
life as it advanced. The Indians must have been
acquainted with the property of the maple for ages;
stone sugar-making utensils, of their manufacture,
comprising stone troughs and long stone spouts, hol-
lowed out and pointed for sticking into the trees, hav-
ing often been found in some districts. The few who
still survive keep up the habits of their ancestors in
this, as in other respects, numbers of them offering
sugar which they have made, for barter, each spring.
Happening to be back in the bush one Sunday, I
stopped to hear the Presbyterian minister preach ;
he being expected to come there that afternoon. A
log schoolhouse was made to serve for a chapel — a
dark, wretched affair, into which, gradually, about
seventy or eighty people managed to cram them-
selves. The singing was conducted by an old
German, whose notions of music were certainly far
behind those of his countrymen generally. The
number of grace notes he threw in was astound-
ing; but the people joined as well as they could,
using their powerful lungs with so much -vigour, and
in such bad time and tune, as to be irresistibly
ludicrous. As to keeping abreast of each other
through a verse or a line, it seemed never to occur
to them. A great fellow would roar himself out of
breath, with his face up to the ceiling and his mouth
open, like a hen drinking, and then stop, make a
swallow to recover himself, or, perhaps, spit on the

Worship under Difficulties, 189

floor, and begin again where he left off, in total dis-
regard of the fact that the others were half a line
ahead. Who can chronicle the number of " repeats"
of each line, or portion of one? And as to the
articulation of the words, who could have guessed
their meaning from the uncouth sounds he heard ?
The windows were very small ; and, when filled with
people, the place was too dark for print to be l^ible,
so that, notwithstanding the excessive cold, the
minister had to stand outside the door through the
whole service. About the middle of the sermon
a brief interruption took place, from a freak on the
part of the stove, which stood in the middle of
the room, and was of the common kind, with the
sides held together by a raised edge on the top and
bottom. As usual in all Canadian churches and
meetings, some one was stuffing this contrivance ftdl
of wood while the sermon was going on, when, in a
moment, the top got a trifle too much lifted up, and
down came stove-pipe, stove, fire and wood, in one
grand rumble, to the ground. As the floor chanced
to be made only of roughly-smoothed planks, with
great gaps between each, and the carpenters' shavings
and other inflammable matter were clearly visible
below, the danger of the whole structure catching
fire was great ; but the congr^ation were equal to
the emergency. A number of men were out in a
moment, to return, the next, with great armfuls of
BQQw, which they heaped on the burning mound in

'i'

i:
li

'i
il
I

li , ■

'— fill "*•*■''■

H,;
1 1'.

Ill'

In :

til >

III

I'll'll

190 Worship under Difficulties,

Buch profusion that every spark of .fire was extin-
guished in a few minutes. The bottom of the stove
was then prepared again for the reception of the
sides, the top was once more fitted on, the stove-
pipes put in their place, the rubbish thrust into its
proper abode inside, and, by the help of a few whiti
tlings made on the spot, a firesh fire was roaring in a
very short time, enabling the minister to conclude in
peace and comfort. ^

I have seen strange incidents in backwoods wor-
ship. One church happened to be built on rather
high posts, leaving an open space of from two to
three feet below, between the floor and the ground.
Into this shady retreat a flock of sheep, headed by
the bell-wether, had made its entrance one Sunday
morning while we were at worship overhead, and
presently tinkle, tinkle, tinkle went the bell, now in
single soimds, and then, when the wearer perhaps
shook some fly off" its ears, in a rapid volley. No-
body stirred. The clergyman alone seemed incom-
moded ; but no one thought he was particularly so
till, all at once, he stopped, came down from the
pulpit, went out and drove off" the intruders, after
which he recommenced as if nothing had occurred.
At another place, at the communion, to my astonish-
ment, instead of the ordinary service, a black bottle
and two tumblers were brought out, with all due
solemnity, as substitutes. ■•

i We had a sample of the strength of female intellect,

A Clerical Mrs, Partington, 191

one winter, in an old woman, who visited the next
village to preach on the Prophecies, and drew the
whole of the humbler population of the neighbour-
hood to hear her. Grammar, of course, was utterly
disregarded; she knew the obscurer books of
Scripture by heart, and, having a tongue more
than usually voluble, and an assurance that nothing
could abash, she did her best to enlighten the
crowd on no mean topics. Using her left arm as
a chronological measure, she started, with Daniel, at
the elbow, and reached the consummation of all
things at her finger-ends, which she figuratively
called "the jumping-off place." Some of her
similes, as reported through the township, amused
jne exceedingly as samples of what^was just suited
to please the majority of her hearers. " There's no
more grace, sir, in your heart than there's blood in
a turnip," was her apostrophe to some imaginary
sinner. " Them sinners," she added — " them
hardened sinners, needs to be done to as you do to
a old black tobaky pipe — throw 'em into the fire, and
burn 'em — then they'll be wite." Such wandering
luminaries are, for the most part, importations from
the States, where they abound almost beyond belief.
Another of these learned expositors visited us for
the purpose of giving lectures on " Biology," by
which he meant the effects produced on his patients
by looking at large wooden buttons which he carried
with him; a continued stare at them for a time

'W^.

I
I

II: J

I lt!|l

ii!!^

,,M

■■■nf

Iijl U(|M«»J

liiilijliij

!iilii;,i!!

192 Biology.

making the parties become, as he averred, completely
subject, even in their thoughts, to his will. He
would teU one he was a pig, and all manner of
swinish sounds and actions followed. Another was
assured he could not rise irom his seat, and forth-
with appeared glued to the spot, despite his most
violent efforts to get up. Whether there was any
actual truth in the exhibition, through the power of
some subtle mesmeric laws of which we know little,
I cannot say. Some thought there was ; others,
that the whole was a joke of some young fellows who
wished to create fun at the expense of the audiences.
But the exhibitor himself was a real curiosity in his
utter illiterateness and matchless assurance. He had
seen somebody else exhibiting in this way, and, like
a shrewd Yankee, thought he might make a little
money by doing the same. I wished to gain some
information from him on the subject, if he had any
to give, and waited, after the crowd had separated, to
ask him about it; but all I could get from him was
the frank acknowledgment that " this here profession
was not the one he foUered; he had jist been
a-coming to Canedy after some lumber — ^he dealt in
lumber, he did — and calc'lated that he might as well's
no make his expenses by a few licturs." I almost
laughed outright at this candid avowal, and M him.
One day, Louis de Blanc, an old Canadian voyageur,
who had left his arduous avocation and settled near
our place long before we came, amused me by a story

A Ghost,

193

. He

ler of

er waa
forth-

s most

as any

)wer of

w little,
others,

>\va who

idiencea.

by in hia
He had

and, like

I a little

ain some
had any

arated, to
him wa3
jrofession
jist been
5 dealt in
b as well's
I almost
left him.
voys^eur,
ttled near
by a story

of an apparition he had seen the night before in pass-
ing the graveyard at the little Catholic chapel on the
roadside, two miles above us. It was a little plot of
ground, neatly fenced round with wooden pickets,
with the wild flowers growing rank and high among
the few lonely graves, — some tall black crosses here
and there outtopping them. " You know Michel
Cauchon died last week ; well, he always had a spite
at me ; and, sure enough, last night about twelve
o'clock, as I was passing the churchyard, didn't I see
his ghost running across the road in the shape of a
rabbit. Ah ! how I sweated as I ran home ! I never
stopped tin I got over my fence and safe in bed."
The poor rabbit that had caused the panic would, nd
doubt, have been astonished, could it have learned
the terror it had inspired. , ,

It was most astonishing to see what kind of food
some of these old Canadians relished — at least, it waa
so to me. One day having gone over to Le Blanc's
on some errand, I found his son Louis, a boy of
twelve or fourteen, with the handle of a frying-pan in
one hand and a spoon in the other, drinking down
mouthful after mouthful of the melted fat left after
frying pork, and, on my silently looking at him, waa
met by a delighted smile and a smack of his lips,
accompanied by a rapturous assurance of, " Ah I it
slips good." Fat, however, is only another name for
carbon^ or, it may be said, charcoal, and carbon ia
needed in large quantities to maintain an adequate

.if

^*HJ Hi!'*'*'

I'l . I.

|i!||iJi;;

ill

leiii

'I.I i!

jljiij!
ii'piii

194 " It slips good."

amount of animal heat in the inhabitants of cold
climates, and to this must be attributed their craving
for grossly fat food. Captain Cochrane, in his " Pe-
destrian Tour to Behring's Straits," shows us that
poor Louis Le Blanc was in this respect far outdone
by the Siberian tribes living near the Arctic Ocean,
who relished nothing more than a tallow candle, and
would prolong the enjoyment of one by pulling the
wick, once and again, through their half-closed teeth,
that no particle of the grease might be lost. Indeed,

my friend Captain L told me that, in the Arctic

regions, his men had acquired a similar reUsh for
" moulds" and " dips," and could eat a candle as if it
had been sugar-stick. The Esquimaux, as we all
know, live on the nauseous blubber of the whale,
cutting it off in long strips, which, Sydney Smith
facetiously avers, they hold over them by the one
hand and guide down by the other, till full to the
mouth, when they cut it off at the lips. The quantity of
butcher's meat eaten by every one during winter iii
Canada is astonishing. Even the bush people, who
when living in England hardly ever saw it, eat it
voraciously three times a-day, with a liberal allow-
ance of grease each time. What oceans of mutton-
oil I have seen floating round chops, in some of their
houses I How often have I declined the offer of
three or four tablespoonfuls of pork-oil. as " gravy"
or *' sauce" to the pork itself! Yet it " slips good,"
apparently, with the country population generally.

Squatters, 195

The quantity of butter these good folks consume is
ao less liberal. On the table of a poor log-house
they never think of putting down a lump weighing
less than a pound, at which every one hacks as he
likes with his own knife. But they need it all, and
it is a mercy they have it, to help them to withstand
the effects of extreme cold and hard work. The
poorer classes in towns, who have no land on which
to raise animal food, and liltlc money with which to
buy it, must suffer very severely.

There were a few " squatters" along the river here
and there — that is, men who had settled on spots of
the wilderness without having bought them, or hav-
ing acquired any legal rights, but were content to use
them while undisturbed in possession, and to leave
their clearings when owners came forward. They are
always, in such cases, allowed the value of their im-
provements, and as, meanwhile, they live entirely rent
free, their position is far from wholly disadvantageous.
In the early days of the colony, indeed, there was no
other plan. The few first comers could hardly be any-
thing but squatters, as the country was all alike an
uncleared wilderness, and there was no inducement to
pay money for any one spot, had they possessed the
means. Some of the French families in our neigh-
bourhood had been settled on the same farm for
generations, and had at last actually bought their
homesteads at the nominal price demanded by
government ; but the squatters were not yet extinct,

(II
Mil

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illliiHiill

lilli'l'l

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i

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fill

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196 Squatlers,

though they might at one time have had their choice
of the richest soil at something like fourpence an
acre. A friend of mine told me that writhin a period
of about thirty years he had seen land sold again and
again at no higher price. On the same lot as that
which boasted the Catholic chapel, one — a lonely
survivor of the class — had taken up his abode, many
years before our time, building a log-house for him-
self on the smallest possible scale, a few yards from
the river. How he could live in such a place seemed
strange. It was not more than some ten or twelve
feet in length, and tlie upper part of it was used as
his barn. Here, all alone, poor Papineau had lived
— no one I ever met could tell how long. There
was no house or building in sight; no one ever
seemed to go near him, nor did he ever visit any
neighbour. He was his own cook, housekeeper,
washerwoman, farm-labourer, everything. I often
wish I had tried to find out more about him. We
used, when we passed along the river edge, to see hin.
mowing his patch of hay for his cow, or weeding his
plot of tobacco, for he grew what he required lor his
own use of this as of other things ; and he was always
the same silent, harmless hermit of the woods. It
was a strange kind of life to lead. How different
from that of a Londoner, or the life of the inhabi-
tant of any large community ! Yet he must surely
have been contented, otherwise he would have letl; it
^d gone where he could have found some society.

197

CHAPTER XII.

Bush magistrates— Indian forast guides — Senses quickened
by necessity — Breaking up of the ice — Depth of the frost—
A grave in winter — A ball — A holiday coat.

In' those days our local dignitaries were as primitive
83 the country itself. On the river, indeed, the ma-
gistrates were men of education, but in the bush the
majority possessed no qualifications for acting the
part of justices. One of them had the misfortune
one winter to have a favourite dog killed by some
mischievous person, and feeling excessively indig-
nant at the loss, boldly announced that he was pre-
pared to pay a reward to any party who would give
such information respecting the offender as should
lead to his conviction. The wording and spelling of
this proclamation were alike remarkable. It ran
thus : " Whereas sum nutrishus vilain or vilains has
killed my dog Seesur, I ereby ofer a reward of five
dolara to any one that will mak none the ofender or
ofenders." He never got any benefit fi:om his efforts,
but the document, in his own handwriting, himg for
a long time on the wall of the next tavern, where all
could see it, and not a few laugh at its peculiarities.
I was much struck by an instance, which a long

lifi

198

Indian Forest Guides,

iiiiiiii^ii

journey, about this time, through the woods, gave, of
the wonderful faculty possessed by the Indians in
going straight from point to point across the thickest
forest, where there is apparently nothing to direct
their course. Having occasion to return nearly
twenty miles from a back township to which the
roads had not yet been opened, and not liking to take
the circuit necessary if I desired to find others, I
thought myself fortunate in meeting with an Indian,
who for a small reward offered to take me home by
the nearest route. When I asked him how he guided
himself, he could say very little, but hinted in his
broken English about one side of the trees being
rougher than the other, though I could detect little
or no difference on most of them. If it had been
in Nova Scotia, I could have understood his rea-
soning, for there the side of the trees towards the
north is generally hung with a long grey beard of
moss, from the constant moisture of the climate ; but
in Canada it would take very sharp eyes to tell which
was the northern and which the other sides from any
outward sign. They must have something more to
guide them, I think, though what it is I cannot con-
ceive. The senses become wonderftdly acute when
called into extraordinary service. I have read of
prisoners in dark dungeons who got at last to be able
to see the spiders moving about in their webs in the
comers of their cells ; and blind people often attain
such a wonderful delicacy of touch as to be able to

Senses quickened hy necestity, 199

detect things by differences so sligTit as to b(> imper-
ceptible by others. The facility with which they
i«Bd the books prepared for them with raised lettera,
by simply passing their fingers over the surfaces, is
well known. The sailor can discern the appearance
of distant land, or the Arab the approach of a camel
over the desert, when others would suspect neither.
An Indian can smell the firo of a '* camp," as they
call the place where a party rests for the night, when
a European can detect nothing. There may, there-
fore, be something which can be noticed on the trees,
by those who pass their whole lives among them,
which others are unable to discover. The Indians
derive a great advantage from the skill they possess
in tracking the footsteps of men or animals over all
sorts of ground and among dry leaves. This faculty
they are enabled to acquire owing to the fact that the
forests in North America are generally open enough
underneath to offer easy passage ; and moreover, that
the soil is little more on the surface than a carpet of
rotten wood and decaying leaves, which easily re-
ceives the impression of footsteps, and retains it for
a length of time. The moss on the fpJlen trees is
another great help in tracking the course of either
man or beast through the forest ; for neither the one
nor the other can well make their way over them
without rubbing off portions here and there. Nor is
the mere fact of the passage in a particular direction
all that an Indian can detect from the traces on the

'i!

200 BreaUng up oftlie Tee,

Boil or vegetation. They reason acutely from things
which others would overlook, and sometimes surprise
one as much by the minute and yet correct conclu-
sions they draw respecting what they have not seen,
as the Arab did the Cadi of Bagdad when he de-
scribed a camel and its load which had passed, and
whose track he had seen; maintaining that the camel
was lame of a foot — because he had noticed a dif-
ference in the length of the steps ; that it wanted a
tooth, because the herbage it had cropped had a piece
left in the middle of each bite ; and, also, that the load
consisted of honey on one side and ghee on the other,
because he had noticed drops of each on the path as
he went along. My Indian made no hesitation at
any part of our journey, keeping as straight as pos-
sible, and yet he was forced perpetually to wind and
turn round trees standing directly in our path, and
to vault over fallen logs, which he did with a skill
that I in vain tried to imitate.

About the beginning of April the ice in the river
was getting very watery, the strength of the sun
melting the surface till it lay covered with pools in
every direction. Yet people persisted in crossing,
long after I should have thought it dangerous in the
extreme. It seemed as if it would hold together for
a long time yet, but the heat was silently doing its
work on it, and bringing the hour of its final disap-
pearance every moment nearer. It had become a
wearisome sight when looked at day after day for

Breaking up of the Ice, 201

months, and we all longed for the open river once
more. At last, about t^ 3 sixteenth of the month, on
rising in the morning, to our delight, the whole sur-
face of the ice was seen to be broken to pieces. A
Strong wind which had been blowing through the
night had caused such a motion in the water as to
split up into fragments the now- weakened sheet that
bound it. It was a wonderfully beautiful sight to look
at the bright blue water sparkling once more in the
light, as if in restless gladness afler its long imprison-
ment, the richness of its colour contrasting strikingly
with the whiteness of the ice which floated in snowy
floes to the south. At first there was only the broken
covering of the river, but, very soon, immense quan-
tities of ice came sailing down from the Upper Lakes,
jammed together one piece on another, in immense
heaps, in every variety of confusion, the upturned
edges fringed with prismatic colours. I foimd
that the preparation for this grand upbreaking had
been much more complete than I had suspected,
from looking at it from a distance ; the whole of what
had appeared quite solid having been so affected by
the sun that, whichever way you looked at it, long
rows of air-bubbles showed themselves through it,
showing that there was little power lefl in it to resist
any outward force. The final rupture, though appa-
rently so sudden, had been in fact steadily progressing,
until, at last, the night's storm had been suflicient to
sweep away in an hour what had previously stood

ii!'

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ill 11

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W ■^'

202 Depth of the Frost.

the wildest rage of winter. I have often, since, thought
that it gave a very good illustration of the gradually
increasing influence of all efforts for good, and of
their certain ultimate triumph— each day's faithful
work doing so much towards it, though the progress
may for long be imperceptible, until at last, when we
hardly expect it, the opposing forces give way, as it
were, at once, and forthwith leave only a scattered
and retreating wreck behind. Gradual preparation,
and apparently sudden results, are the law in all
things. The Reformation, though accomplished as if
at a blow, had been silently made possible through
long previous generations ; and when the idolaters in
Tahiti threw away their hideous gods, the salutary
change was only effected by the long-continued labours
of faithful missionaries for many years before—
labours, which, to many, must, at the time, have
seemed fruitless and vain.

The depth to which the frost had penetrated the
ground was amazing. I had already seen proof of
its being pretty deep, on the occasion of a grave
having to be dug in a little spot of ground attached
to a chapel at some distance from us, for the burial
of a poor neighbour's wife who had died. The
ground was deeply covered with snow, which had to
be cleared away before they could begin to dig the
grave, and the soil was then found to be so hard that
it had to be broken up with pickaxes. Even in that
earlier part of the winter the frost was nearly tw

A Grave in Winter,

203

feet deep, and it was a touching thing to see the frozen
lumps of earth which had to be thrown down on the
coffin. Anything like beating the grave smooth, or
shaping it into the humble mound which is so familiar
to us at home, as the token of a form like our own
lying beneath, was impossible ; there could only be
a rough approach to it till spring should come t6
loosen the iron-bound earth. Strangely enough,
there were two funerals from the same household
within the same month, and the two graves were
made side by side. The mother had died just as she
was about to start for the house of her daughter-in-
law who was ailing, a hundred and twenty miles off,
and the object of her beautiful tenderness had herself
died before the same month had expired, leaving it
as her last wish that she should be laid beside her
friend who had departed so lately. It was now the
depth of winter — the Arctic cold made everything
like rock — the sleighing was at its best, and thus the
journey was made comparatively easy. Laying the
coffin in a long sleigh and covering it with straw,
and taking a woman with him to carry a young
infant to his friends to nurse, the husband set out
with his ghastly load. There was no fear of delaying
the burial too long, for the corpse was frozen stiff*,
and might have been kept above ground for weeks
without the risk of its thawing. When I used to
pass afterwards in summer time, the two graves,
which were the first in the burial-ground, wore a

iiiillliii;

iiHlilj

204 i)^^a of the Frost,

more cheerful aspect than they had done at first ; the
long beautiful grass waving softly over them, and
wild flowers borne thither by the winds or by birds,
mingling their rich colours with the shades of green
around.

I think the soil must eventually have been firozen
at least a yard down, if we may judge by its effects.
Great gate-posts were heaved up by the expansion of
the earth, when the thaw turned the ice into water;
for, though ice is lighter than water, it forms a solid
mass, whereas the swelling moisture pushes the par-
ticles of earth apart. I have seen houses and walls
cracked from top to bottom, and fences thrown down,
from the same cause ; indeed, it is one of the regu-
larly recurring troubles of a Canadian farmer's year.
If anything is to stand permanently, the foundations
must be sunk below the reach of the frost. It is
very much better, however, in Canada than in the
icy wilderness to the north of it. Eound Hudson's
Bay the soil never thaws completely, so that if you
thrust a pole into the earth in the warm season, you
may feel the frozen ground a few feet beneath. It is
wonderful that any vegetation can grow under such
circumstances, but the heat of the sun is so great
that, even over the everlasting ice-bed, some crops
can be raised in the short fiery summer. Indeed,
even on the edge of the great Arctic Ocean, along
the coasts of Siberia, and on some spots of the
American shore, the earth brought down by rivers

A Ball.

205

and strewn by their floods over the hills of ice, is
bri<^ht with vegetation for a short part of each year
—in this respect not unlike stony and cold natures
which have yet, over their unmelting hardness, an
efflorescence of good — the skin of virtue spread, as
old Thomas Fuller says, like a mask over the face of
vice. -^ ^ .

During the winter a great ball was given across
the river, in a large barn, which had been cleared for
the purpose, the price of the tickets being fixed at a
dollar, which included an abundant supper. It was
intimated, however, that those who had no money
might pay in " dicker" — a Yankee word for barter ;
a bundle of shingles, a certain number of eggs, or so
much weight of butter, being held equivalent to the
money, and securing a ticket. I was not present
myself, never having much approved of these mixed
parties, but the young folks round were in a great
state of excitement about it, some of them coming as
far as fifteen miles to attend it. They went past in
sleigh loads, dashing over the ice on the river as if it
had been solid ground. The girls were, of course, in
the height of fashion, as they understood it ; some of
them exposing themselves in ridiculously light
clothing for the terrible season of the year, in the
belief, no doubt, that it made them look the nicer.
Fashions in those days did not travel fast, and what
was in its full glory on the river had been well nigh
forgotten where it took its rise, like the famous

206 A Holiday Coat,

Steenkirk stock, of which Addison says that it took
eleven years to travel from London to Newcastle.
The taste shown was often very praiseworthy, but
sometimes, it must be admitted, a little out of the
way. I have seen girls with checked or figured white
muslin dresses, wearing a black petticoat underneath
to show oiF the beauties of the pattern ; and I knew
of one case where a young woman, who was en-
grossed in the awful business of buying her wedding
dress, could get nothing to please her until she
chanced to see, hanging up, a great white window
curtain, with birds and flowers all over it, which she
instantly pronoimced to be the very thing she wanted,
and took home ir triumph 1 There was one gen-
tleman's coat on the river which might have formed
a curiosity in a museum^ as a relic of days gone by.
The collar stood up round the ears in such a great
roll that the shoulders and head seemed set on each
other, and, as to the tails, they crossed each other
like a marten's wings, somewhere about the knees.
But it was in a good state of preservation, and, for
aught I know, may be the holiday pride of its owner
CO this hour. ■,.,._

It took a week or two for the last fragments of ice
to disappear from the river, fresh floes coming down
day after day from the lakes beyond, where spring
sets in later. As they floated past I oficr. used to
think what a mercy it was that, while water gets
heavier as it grows cold, until it comes to the freezing-

Why Ice floats, 207

point, it becomes lighter the moment it begins to
freeze, and thus rises to the surface, to form ice there,
instead of at the bottom. If it continued to get
heavier after it froze, or if it continued as heavy after,
afl it was immediately before, the rivers and lakes
would speedily become solid masses of ice, which
could by no possibility be melted. The arrangement
by which this is avoided, is a remarkable illustration
of the Divine wisdom, and a striking proof of the
contrivance and design which is in all God's works.

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208

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liijil^i^^ii

ii^neM^

ij- i

CHAPTER XIII.

Wild leeks — Spring birds — Wilson's poem on the blue bird
— Downy woodpeckers — Passenger pigeons — Their num.
bers — Boosting places — The frogs — Bull frogs — Tree
frogs — Flying squirrels.

By the first of May the fields were beginning to put
on their spring beauty. But in Canada, where vege-
tation, once fairly started, makes a wonderfully rapid
progress, it is not like that of England, where spring
comes down, as the poet tells us —

** Veiled in a shower of shadowing roses,"

and a long interval occurs between the first indica-
tions of returning warmth, and the fuller proof of it
in the rejoicing green of the woods and earth. The
wild leeks in the bush seemed to awaken fi-om their
winter's sleep earlier than most other things, as
we found to our cost, by the cows eating them
and spoiling their milk and butter, by the strong
disiigreeable taste. In fact, both were abominable
for weeks together, until other attractions in vaccine
diet had superseded those of the leeks. It waj de-
lightful to look at the runnels of crystal water
wimpling down the furrows as the sun grew strong;

•st indica-
proof of it
rth. The
irom their
|things, as
iting them
[the strong
ibominable
in vaccine
lit waj de-
stal water
lew strong;

Spring Birds. 209

the tender grass beneath, and at each side, showing
through the quivering flow like a frame of emerald.
The great buds of the chestnuts and those of other treea
grew daily larger, and shone in the thick waterproof-
coatings with which they had been protected through
the winter. Small green snakes, too, began to glide
about after their long torpidity ; the wild fowl re-
appeared in long flights high overhead, on their way
to their breeding-places in the far north ; the reed-
sparrows in their rich black plumage, with scarlet
shoulders fading off" to yellow ; the robin, resembling
his English namesake only in the name, as he belongs
to the family of thrushes in Canada ; the squirrels
in their beautiful coats, with their great bushy tails
and large eyes, stirring in every direction through
the trees, and every little while proclaiming their
presence by a sound which I can only compare to the
whirr of a broken watch-spring ; the frogs beginning
to send up their thousand croaks from every standing
pool — ^all things, indeed, in the animal and vegetable
world showing signs of joy, heralded the flowery
summer that was advancing towards us.

The darling little blue-bird, the herald of spring,
had already come to gladden us while the snow
was yet on the ground, flitting about tlie bam and
the fence-posts, and, after we had an orchard, about
the apple-trees, of which it chiefly consisted. About
the middle of March he and his mate might be seen
visiting the box in the garden, where he had kept

210 Wilson* 3 Poem on the Slue Bird.

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house the year before, or, in places wliere the or-
chards were old, looking at the hole in the apple-tree
where his family had lived in preceding summers.
He had come to be ready for the first appearance of
the insects on which chiefly he feeds, and, by killing
whole myriads of which, he proves himself one of
the best friends of the farmer. There is a poem of
Alexander Wilson, the American ornithologist, about
the blue-bird, which tells the whole story of a
Canadian spring so admirably, and is s,> little
known, that I cannot resist the pleasure of quoting
part of it.

"When winter's cold tempests and snows are no more,
Green meadows and brown furrowed fields re-appearing,
The fishermen hauling their shad to the shore,

And cloud cleaving geeae to the lak ;a are a-steering ;
When first the lone butterfly flits on the wing,

When glow the red maples, so fresh and so pleasing,
■ Oh, then comes the blue-bird, the herald of spring,

And hails with his warblings the charms of tbe seasou.

*' Then loud piping frogs make the marshes to ring,

Then warm glows the sunshine, and fine is the weather;
The blue woodland flowers just beginning to spring,

And spice wood and sassafras budding together.
O then to your gardens, ye housewives repair,

Your walks border up, sow and plant at your leisure,
The blue-bird will chant from his box such an air

That all your hard toils will seem truly a pleasure.

/ •• ^ ■■,/ -'_ . i
" He flits through the orchard, he visits each tree,

The red-flowering peach, and the apple's sweet blossoms;
He snaps up destroyers wherever they be,
^ . Aiid seizes the caitiffs that lurk in their bosoms ;

Downy Woodj^echerf,

211

he or-
)le-tree
mmera.
raiice of
J killing
' one of
poem of
ist, about
yrj of a
8.» little
)f ouoting

more,

e- appearing,

iteering ;

ipleasing,

|ring,

tlie aeasou.

inS>

the weather ;

[pring,
ither.

[ur leisure,

aiv

lleasure.

Iree,

,eet blossoms;

jsoma ;

He drags the vile grub from the corn he devours,
The worms from their beds, where they riot and welter ;

His Boug and his services freely are ours,
And all that he asks is, in summer, a shelter.

" The ploughman is pleased when he gleans in his train.

Now searching the furrows, now mounting to cheer him ;
The gardener delights in his sweet, simple strain

And leans on his spade to survey and to hear him ;
The slow lingering schoolboys forget they'll be chid,

While gazing intent as he warbles before 'em
Id mantle of sky-blue, and bosom so red.

That each little wanderer seems to adore him."

The mention of the blue-bird's activity in destroy-
ing insects brings to my mind my old friends, the
woodpeckers, once more. In John Courtenay's or-
chard, which was an old one, several of these birds
built every season, hovering about the place the whole
year, as they are among the very few Canadian birds
that do not migrate. He showed me, one day, the
nest of one of the species called " Downy," in an old
apple-tree. A hole had been cut in the body of the
tree, as round as if it had been marked out by a
carpenter's compasses, about six or eight inches deep
in a slanting direction, and then ten or twelve more
perpendicularly, the top of it only large enough to
let the parents in and out, but the bottom apparently
quite roomy, for the young family. As far as I could
see, it was as smooth as a man could have made it,
and I was assured that it was the same in every part.
It appears that these birds are as cunning as they
are clever at this art, the two old ones regularly car-

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liiliiiiiiiiii

212 Downy Woodpeckers,

Tying out all the chips as they are made, and strew-
ing them about at a considerable distance from the
nest, so as to prevent suspicion of its presence. Six
pure white eggs, laid on the smooth bottom of their
curious abode, mark the number of each year's
family, the female bird sitting closely on thero while
they are being hatched, her husband, meanwhile
busying himself in supplying her with choice grubs,
that she may want for nothing in her voluntary im-
prisonment. The little woodpeckers make their
first appearance about the middle of June, when one
may see them climbing the bark of the tree as well
as they can, as if practising before they finally set
out in life for themselves. I had oflen wondered at
the appearance of the bark in many of the apple and
pear-trees, which seemed as if some one had fired
charges of shot into them; but it was long before I
knew the real cause. It appears that it is the work
of the woodpeckers, and many farmers consequently
think the poor birds highly injurious to their or-
chards. But there are no real grounds for such an
opinion, for no mischief is done by these pimctm-es,
numerous though they be. I have always remarked
that the trees which were perforated most seemed
most thriving, no doubt because the birds had de-
stroyed the insects wlich otherwise would have
injured them. The autum a and winter is the great
time for their operations, and it is precisely the time
when the preservation of the fruit, in the coming

, strew-

rom the

je. Six

of their

h year's

BID while

eanwhile,

ce grubs,

Qtary im-

ake their

when one

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finally set

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is the work

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for such an

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jrs remarked

lost seemed

irds had de-

wouW have

is the great
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the coming

Downy Woodpechera, 213

gummer, can be best secured. Curious as it may
seem that such a riddling of the bark can be bene-
ficial to the tree, it q\ idently is so. From the ground
to where the branches fork off, there is often hardly
an inch of the bark which does not bear the mark
of some grub-hunt, and sometimes eight or ten of
them might be covered by a penny. Farmers, how-
ever, rarely philosophize, and no wonder that in this
case they regard as prejudicial what is really a
benefit. But, on the other hand, they are correct
enough as to the habits of aome of the woodpeckers,
for greater thieves than the red-headed ones, at some
seasons, can hardly be found. The little rascals
devour fruit of all kinds as it ripens, completely
stripping the trees, if permitted. In fact, they have
a liking for all good things ; they are sure to pick
the finest strawberries from your beds, and have no
less relish for apples, peaches, cherries, plums, and
pears; Indian corn, also, is a favourite dish with
them, while it is still milky. Nor do these little
plagues keep to vegetable diet exclusively ; the eggs
in the nests of small birds are never passed by in
their search for delicacies. One can't wonder, there-
fore, that, with such plundering propensities, they
should lose their lives pretty often.

The flocks of pigeons that come in the early spring
are wonderful. They fly together in bodies of many-
thousands, perching, as close as they can settle, on
the trees when they alight, or covering the ground

S|ilii,nisitritti.,,

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..1 ■..:m

^14 Passenger Pigeons.

over Large spaces when feeding. The first tidings of
their approach is the signal for every available gun
to be brought into requisition, at once to procure a
supply of fresh food, and to protect the crops on the
fields, which the pigeons would utterly destroy if
they were allowed. It is singular how little sense
or perhaps fear, such usually timid birds have when
collected together in numbers. I have heard of one
man who was out shooting them, and had crept close
to one flock, when their leaders took a fancy to fly-
directly over him, almost'close to the ground, to his
no small terror. Thousands brushed past him so
close as to make him alarmed for his eyes ; and the
stream still kept pouring on after he had discharged |
his barrels, right and left, into it, until nothing re-
mained but to throw himself on his face till the
whole had flown over him. They, do not, however,
come to any part of Canada with which I am ac-
quainted in such amazing numbers as are said by
Wilson and Audubon to visit the western United
States. The latter naturalist left his house at Hen-
derson, on the Ohio, in the autumn of 1813, on his
way to Louisville, and on passing the Barrens, a fetr
miles beyond Hardensburgh, observed the pigeons
flying from north-east to south-west in such num-
bers, that he thought he would try to calculate how
many there really were. Dismounting, and seating
himself on a knoll, he began making a dot in his
note-book for every flock that passed, but in a short

Tkeir Numbers,

215

time had to give up the attempt, as he had already
put down a hundred and sixty-three in twenty-one
minutes, and they still poured on in countless multi-
tudes. The air was literally filled with pigeons;
the light of noon-day was obscured as if by an
eclipse, and the continued buzz of wings produced
au inclination to drowsiness. When he reached
Louisville, a distance of fifty-five miles, the pigeons
were still passing in unabated numbers, and con-
tinued to do so for three days in succession. He
calculated that, if two pigeons were allowed for each
square yard, the number in a single flock — and that
not a large one, extending one mile in breadth and a
hundred and eighty in length — could not be less than
one billion, one hundred and fifteen millions, one
hundred and thirty-six thousand 1 The food re-
quired for such a countless host passes our power to
realize clearly, for, at half a pint a day, which is
hardly as much as a pigeon consumes, they would
eat, in a single day, eight millions, seven hundred
and twelve thousand bushels. To get such supplies
from cultivated fields would, of course, be impossible,
and it is fortunate that they hardly ever attempt it,
their principal support being the vast quantities of
beech-mast which the unlimited expanse of unbroken
forest supplies.

A curious fact respecting them is that they have
fixed roosting-places, from which no disturbance
appears able to drive them, and to these they resort

liilL .'1

Slim w^«^'m\

'4. i'i::i''WI

216 Boosting-placed,

night by night, however far they may have to fly to
obtain food on the returning day. One of them, in
Kentucky, was repeatedly visited by Audubon, who
found that it was about forty miles in length by
three in breadth. A fortnight after the pigeons had
chosen it for the season, he found that a great number
of persons with horses and waggons, guns and ammu-
nition, had already established themselves on its
borders. Herds of hogs had been driven up to fatten
on a portion of those which might be killed. Some of
the visitors were busy plucking and salting what had
been already procured, huge piles of them lying on each
side of their seats. Many trees two feet in diameter
were broken off at no great distance from the gromid
by the weight of the multitudes that had lighted on
them; and huge branches had given way, as if the
forest had been swept by a tornado. As the hour of
their arrival approached, every preparation was made
to receive them: iron pots, containing sulphur,
torches of pine-knots, poles, and guns, being got ready
for use the moment they came. Shortly after sun-
set the cry arose that they were come at last. The
noise they made, though yet distant, was like that of
a hard gale at sea, when it passes through the rigging
of a closely-reefed vessel. Thousands were soon
knocked down by the polemen ; the birds continued
to pour in ; the fires were lighted ; and a magni-
ificent as well as wonderful and almost terrifying
sight presented itself. The pigeons, arriving by

Boosting -places, 217

thousands, alighted everywhere, one above another,
until solid masses as large as hogsheads were formed
on the branches all round. Here and there the
perches gave way, and falling on the groimd with a
crash, destroyed hundreds of the birds beneath,
forcing down the dense groups with which every
spot was loaded. The pigeons were constantly
coming, and it was past midnight bofore he perceived
a decrease in their number. Before daylight they
had begun again to move off, and by sunrise all were
gone. This is Audubon's account. I myself have
killed thirteen at a shot, fired at a venture into a
flock; and my sister Margaret killed two one day by
simply throwing up a stick she had in her hand as
they swept past at a point where we had told her to
stand, in order to frighten them into the open
groimd, that we might have a better chance of
shooting them. I have seen bagfuls of them that
had been [killed by no more formidable weapons
than poles swung right and left at them as they flew
close past. The rate at which they fly is wonderful,
and has been computed at about a mile a minute,
at which rate they keep on for hours together, dart-
mg forward with rapid beats of their wings very
much as our ordinary pigeons do.

The frogs were as great a source of amuse-
ment to us as the pigeons were of excitement.
Wherever there was a spot of water, thence, by
night and day, came their chorus, the double

}
I

iiillilili

! I

218 Bull Frogs.

bass of the bull-frogs striking in every now and then
amidst the indescribable piping of the multitudes of
their smaller brethren. It is very difficult to catch a
sight of these bassoon performers, as they spring into
the water at the slightest approach of danger; yet
you may now and then come on them basking at the
side of a pond or streamlet, their great goggle eyes
and black skiu making them look very grotesque.
They are great thieves in their own proper element,
many a duckling vanishing from its mother's side by
a sudden snap of some one of these solemn gentlemen
below. They are a hungry race, always ready
apparently for what they can get, and making short
work with small fishes, all kinds of small reptiles,
and even, I believe, the lesser kinds of snakes, when
they can get them. These fellows are the giants of
the frog tribes, and portly gentlemen withal, some of
them weighing very nearly a pound. The shrill
croak of the other frogs is like nothing else that I
ever heard : it is a sort of trill of two or three notes,
as if coming through water, and it rises from so
many throats at once that it may be said never for a
moment to cease. There is a kind of frog which
lives on the branches of trees, catching the insects on
the leaves — a beautiful little creature, of so nicely
shaded a green that it is almost impossible to detect
it even when you are close to it. Henry and I
were one day at work in the early summer near a
young maple, in the back part of the .farm, and could

* Tree Frogs, 219

hardly keep up conversation for the hissing trill
of a number of them on it; but though the tree
was so near us we could not, by all our looking,
discover any of the invisible minstrels. At last the
thing became so ludicrous that we determined, if
possible, to get a sight of one; and as the lower
branches began at about our own height, one of us
went to the one side, and the other to the other, to
watch. Trill — trill — ^bubble — ^bubble — ^bubble — rose
all around us, but no other signs of the warblers. We
looked and laughed, laughed and looked again ; the
sound was within a yard of us, yet nothing could be
seen. When almost giving up, however, I chanced
to look exactly on the spot where one was making
his little throat swell to get out another set of notes,
and the rise and fall of its breast at once discovered
its presence. Henry was at my side in a moment,
and we could both see it plainly enough, of course,
when our eyes had once fairly distinguished it from
the green around. It continued to sit unmoved on
its leaf, and we did not disturb it.

One morning we came upon a beautiful little
creature which had been killed by some means, and
lay in the yard near the barn. It was evidently a
squirrel, but differed from the ordinary species in
one curious particular. Instead of having its legs
free like those of other squirrels, a long stretch of
fur extended from the front to the back legs so
as to form something like wings when spread

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220 Flying Squirrels,

out. It was a flying squirrel, a kind not so common
as tha others, and coming out mostly by night. These
extraordinary appendages at their sides are used by
them to sustain them in enormous leaps which they
make from branch to branch, or from one tree to
another. Trusting to them they dart hither and
thither with wonderful swiftness ; indeed, it is hard
for the eye to follow their movements. What most
struck me in this unusual development was the
evident approach it made towards the characteristic
of birds, being as it were a link between the form of
an ordinary quadruped and that of a bat, and stand-
ing in the same relation to the wing of the latter as
that does to the wing of a bird. It is singular how
one class of creatures merges into another in every
department of animal life. Indeed, it is puzzling at
times to distinguish between vegetable and animal
structures where the confines of the two kingdoms
join, as the word zoophyte, which really means "a
living plant," sufficiently shows. Then there is a
caterpillar in New Zealand out of whose back, at a
certain stage of its growth, springs a kind of fungiis,
which gradually drinks up the whole juices of the
insect and destroys it ; but this is not so much an
approximation of two different orders as an acci-
dental imion. There are, however, many cases of
interlinking in the different " famiKes" into which life
is divided, the study of which is exceedingly curious
and interesting.

221

common
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CHAPTER XIV.

Our spring crops — Indian com — Pumpkins — Melons —
Fruits— Wild Flowers.

The first thing we thought of when the spring had
fairly set in was to get spring wheat, potatoes, Indian
com, pumpkins, oats, and other crops into the
ground. Our potatoes were managed in a very
primitive way, in a patch of newly-cleared ground,
the surface of which, with a good deal more, we
had to bum off before it could be tilled. A heavy
hoe was the only implement used, a stroke or two
with it sufficing to make a hole for the potato cut-
tings, and two or three more to drag the earth over
them, so as to form a " hill." These we made at
about eighteen inches apart, putting three or four
pumpkin seeds in every third hiU of the alternate
rows. The Indian corn was planted in the same
way, in hills more than a yard apart, pumpkin seeds
being put in with it also. It is my lavourite of aU
the beautiful plants of Canada. A field of it, when
at its finest, is, I think, as charming a sight as could
well invite the eye. Rising higher than the height
of a man, its great jointed stems are crested at the
top by a long waving plume of purple, while from the

: ;■

i.i

223 Pumpkins,

upper end of each head of the grain there waves

a long tassel resembling pale green silk. It is

grown to a large extent in Canada, but it is most

cultivated in the Western United States, many

farmers on the prairies there growing a great many

acres of it. It is used in many ways. When still

imripe it is full of delicious milky juice, which makes

it a delicacy for the table when boiled. The ripe

corn makes excellent meal for cakes, &c., and is the

best food for pigs or poultry, while the stalks make

excellent fodder for cattle. The poor Indians grow

a little corn when they grow nothing els^. You may

see the long strings of ears plaited together by the

tough wrappings round each, and hung along poles

round their wigwams to dry for winter use. They

have been in possession of it no one can tell how

long. When the Mai/ Flower anchored, with the

Pilgrim Fathers, at Plymouth Bay, in Massachusetts,

in 1620, they found hoards of it buried for safety in

the woods around, the Indians having taken this

plan to conceal it from them.

The size of the pumpkins is sometimes enormous.
I have known them so large that one would fill a
wheelbarrow, and used often to think of a piece of
rhyme I learned when a boy, in which it was pointed
out what a mercy it was that they grew on the ground
rather than aloft, acorns being quite heavy onougli
in windy weather.* They are used in great quan-

* Le Gland et la Citrouille : Fables de La Fontaine, B. ix. i,

Melons,

223

titles for " pumpkin pie," as the Canadians call it — a
preparation of sweetened pumpkir ^read over paste.
They use them in this way not only while fresh, but
cut a great many into thin slices and dry them, that
they may have this dessert in winter as well as
summer. They are excellent food for pigs and
cattle when broken into manageable pieces for them.
I don't think anything grew with us better than
beets and carrots, the latter especially. A farmer in
our neighbourhood, who was partial to their growth
for the sake of his horses and cattle, beat us, how-
ever, in the quantity raised on a given space, having
actually gathered at the rate of thirteen hundred
bushels per acre of carrots. We had a carrot show
some years after in the neighbouring township, at
which this fact was stated, and its accuracy fairly
established by the fact of others having gathered at
the rate of as many as eleven hundred bushels per
acre. I remember the meeting chiefly from the
assertion of an Irishman present, who would not
allow that anything in Canada could surpass its
counterpart in his native island, and maintained that
tliese carrots were certainly very good, but that they
were nothing to one which was grown near Cork, which
was no less than eight feet nine inches in length !

A variety of melons formed one of the novelties
we grew after the first season. We had nothing to
do but put them in the ground and keep them free
from weeds, when they began to " run" — as they did,
fill and near, over the ground. It was an easy way

224

Fruits,

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to get a luxury, for some of them are very delicious
and all are very refreshing in the sultry heat of
summer. They grow in every part of Canada in
great luxuriance, and without anything like a pre-
paration of the soil. Indeed, I once saw a great
fellow of an Indian planting some, which would
doubtless grow well enough, with his toes — pushing
aside earth enough to receive the seeds, and then
with another motion of his foot, covering them up.
Cucumbers grew in surprising numbers from a very
small quantity of seed, and we had a castor-oil plant
and some plants of red pepper before our doors. "We
had not very much time at first to attend to a vege-
table garden, and therefore contented ourselves Mrith
a limited range of that kind of comforts, but it was
not the fault of the soil or climate, for in no place of
which I know do the various bounties of the garden
grow more freely than in Canada. Cabbages, cauli-
flower, brocoli, peas, French beans, spinach, onions,
turnips, carrots, parsnips, radishes, lettuces, beet,
asparagus, celery, rhubarb, tomatoes, cucumbers, and
I know not what else, need only to be sown or
planted to yield a most bountiful return.

As to fruits, we had, for years, to buy all we used,
or to gather it in the woods, but it was very cheap
when bought, and easily procured when gathered.
Apples of a size and flavour almost pecmiar to
America, pears, plums, cherries, raspberries, currants,
and strawberries grow everywhere in amazing abua-

Fruits,

225

.elicious,
heat of
inada in
ke a pre-
' a great
jh would
—pushing
and then,
them up.
cm a very
ir-oil plant
doors. We
L to a -vege-
rselves "with
but it was
no place of
the garden
)ages, cauli-
ach, onions,
tuces, beet,
umbers, and
e sown or

(lance. Peaches of the sunniest beauty and most
delicate flavour are at times in some districts almost
as plentiful as potatoes ; but we never managed to
get any from our orchard, want of knowledge on our
part having spoiled our first trees, which we never
afterwards exchanged for others. But on the Niagara
River I have known them sell for a shilling a bushel,
and every labourer you met would be devouring
them by the half-dozen. A gentleman within a few
miles of us took a fancy to cultivate grapes as ex-
tensively as he could in the open air, and succeeded
so well that he told me before I left that he had sold
a year's crop for about a hundred pounds. If we
had had as mrch shrewdness as we ought to have
had, we should have begun the culture of fruit
rather than of mere farm produce, and I feel sure it
would have paid us far better. But people coming
fresh to a country take a long time to learn what is
best for them to do, and when they have learned,
have too often no sufficient means of turning to it,
or, perhaps, no leisure, while many, through disap-
pointed hopes, lose their spirit and energy. ,

The wild fruits we found to be as various as the
cultivated kinds, and some of them were very good.
The wild cherries were abimdant in our bush, and
did excellently for preserves. Gooseberries, small,
with a rough prickly skin and of a poor flavour, were
often brought by the Indians to barter for pork or
flour. Raspberries and strawberries covered the open

£26

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places at the roadsides, and along the hanks ot
"creeks;" and whortleberries and blue berries,
black and red cnrrants, juniper berries, plums and
hazel nuts, were never far distant. We used to gather
large quantities ourselves, and the Indians were con-
stantly coming with pailfuls in the season. It is one
of the beneficent arrangements of Providence that,
in a climate so exceedingly hot in summer, there
should be such a profusion of fruits and vegetables
within the reach of all, adding not only to comfort,
but diffusing enjojrment, and exerting, also, a salu-
tary influence upon health.

What shall I say of the wild flowers which burst
out as the year advanced ? In open places, the woods
were well-nigh carpeted with them, and clear^'ngs
that had, for whatever reason, been for a time
abandoned, soon showed like gardens with their
varied colours. The scarlet lobelia, the blue lupin,
gentian, columbine, violets in countless variety,
honeysuckles flinging their fragrant flowers in loDg
tresses from the trees, campanula, harebell, balsams,
asters, calceolarias, the snowy lily of the valley,
and clouds of wild roses, are only a few from the
list. Varieties of mint, with beautiful flowers,
adorned the sides of streams or the open meadows,
and, resting in a floating meadow of its own green
leaves, on the still water of the river-bends, or of
the creeks, whole stretches of the great white water-
lily, rose and fell with every gentle undulation.

ne " Bitter Sweet:*

227

There was a berry, also, the " bitter sweet," which
was, in the later part of the year, as pretty as any
flower. At the end of each of the delicate twigs on
which it grew, it hung in clusters, which, while un-
ripe, were of the richest orange ; but, after a time,
this covering opened into four golden points and
showed, in the centre, a bright scarlet berry.

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228

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< CHAPTER XV.

The Indians — Wigwams — Dress — Can the Indians be
civilized ? — Their past decay as a race — Alleged innocence
of savage life — Narrative of Father Jogues, the Jesuit
missionary.

Before coming to America we had read a great deal
about the Indians, and were most anxious to see them.
I remember asking a lady from Canada if she was not
afraid of them, and was astonished when she smiled
at the question. Our minds had been filled in
childhood with stories about the Mohawks, and Hu-
rons, and other savage nations; how they rushed on
the houses of settlers at the dead of night, and, after
burning their houses, killed and scalped the men, and
drove the women and children into captivity in the
woods. Their painted faces, wild feathered dresses,
and terrible war-cry had become quite familiar to our
heated fancies; and we were by no means sure we
should not have to endure too close an acquaintance
with them when we became settlers in their country.
The terrible story on which Campbell's beautiful
poem, " Gertrude of Wyoming," is founded, was re-
garded as a sample of what we had to fear in our day
in Canada. Moreover, the romantic accounts of In-
dian warriors in the novels of Cooper, and in the

(■■?»•,

Indian Wigwams, 2£9

writings of travellers, helped to increase both our
curiosity and dread, and we were all most anxious to
see the representatives of the red men in our own
settlement, notwithstanding our extravagant fear
of them. We were not long left to think what
they were like, however ; for it so happened that
there was an Indian settlement on land reserved for
them along the river a few miles above us, and odd
families ever and anon pitched their wigwams in
the bush close to us. The first time they did
so, we all went out eager to see them at once, but
never were ridiculous high-iiown notions doomed to
meet a more thorough disappointment. They were
encamped on the sloping bank of the creek, for it was
beautiful summer weather, two or three wigwams
rising under the shade of a fine oak which stretched
high overhead. The wigwams themselves were
simply sheets of the bark of the birch and bass-trees,
laid against a slight framework of poles inside, and
sloping inwards like a cone, with a hole at the top.
An open space served for an entrance, a loose sheet
of bark, at the side, standing ready to do duty as a
door, if required. I have seen them of different
shapes, but they are generally round, though a few
show the fancy of their owners by resembling the
sloping roof of a house laid on the ground, with the
entry at one end. Bark is the common material;
but in the woods on the St. Clair river I once saw a
family ensconced below some yards of white cotton.

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230 Indian Wigwams,

stretched over two or three rods; and near Halifax
in Nova Scotia, in winter, I noticed some wigwams made
of loose broken outside slabs of logs, which the inmates
had laboriously got together. In this last miserable
hovel, by the way, in the midst of deep snow," with
the wind whistling through it in every direction, and
the thermometer below zero, lay a sick squaw and a
young infant, on some straw and old blankets, to get
well the best way she could. What she must have
suflfered from the cold can hardly be conceived. No
wonder so many die of consumption.

In the group at the wigwams, as we drew near, we
could see there were both men, women, and children
— ^the men and women ornamented with great flat
silver earrings, and all, including the children, bare-
headed. Their hair was of jet black, and quite
straight, and the men had neither beards nor whis-
kers. Both sexes wore their hair long, some of them
plaiting it up in various ways. Their colour was
like that of a brown dried leaf, their cheek-boaes
high and wide apart ; their mouths generally large,
and their eyes smaller than ours; and we noticed
that they all had good teeth. This is not, however,
an invariable characteristic, for sometimes they
Buffer from their decay, like Europeans, and the
doctor once told me how an Indian had waited for
him at the side of the road, and, when he came up,
had made signs of pain from toothache, and of his
^ish that the tooth should be removed, which was

Indian Dress,

231

forthwith done, the sufferer departing in great glee
at the thought of his deliverance. " The next day,"
the doctor added, '* the poor fellow showed his grati-
tude by waiting for me at the same place with a fine
stone pipe-head, which he had just cut, and which
he handed to me with a grunt of goodwill as I came
up." The dress of the women consisted of a cotton
jacket, a short petticoat of cloth, with leggings of
cloth underneath, which fitted tightly. Those who
were doing nothing had a blanket loosely thrown
over them, though it was tl in hot enough to do
without almost any clothing. The dress of the men
varied, ftcn L'^ merest mockery of clothing to the
full suit oi ' ;otton shirt and a pair of long leather
or cloth leggings. One of them, a great strapping
man, gave my sisters a great fright, shortly after, by
walking into the house as noiselessly as a cat, and
stalking up to the fire for a light to his pipe, with
nothing on him but a cotton shirt. Pulling out a
piece of burning wood and kindling his pipe, he sat
down on a chair beside them to enjoy a smoke,
without ever saying a word, and went off, when he
had finished, with equal silence. The little children
were naked either altogether, or with the exception
of a piece of cotton round their loins; and the babies,
of which there are always some in every Indian
encampment, peered out with their bright black
beads of eyes firom papooses, either hung up on a
forked pole or resting against a tree. These *> pa-

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232

Indian Babies,

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pooses" were quite a novelty to us. Tliey were
simply a flat board a little longer than the infant
with a bow of hickory bent in an arch over the
upper end, to protect the head, and some strings at
the sides to tie the little creature safely. There
it lay or stood, with abundant wrappings round it,
but with its legs and arms in hopeless confinement,
its little eyes and thin trembling lips alone telling
the story of its tender age. To lift it was like taking
hold of a fiddle, only you could hardly hurt it so
easily as you might the instrument. Not a cry was
to be heard, for Indian babies seem always good,
and nobody was uselessly occupied in taking care of
them, for, where they were, no injury could come
near them. I should not myself like to be tied up
in such a way, but it seems to do famously with
them. One of the women had her child at her back,
inside her blanket, its little brown face and black
eyes peering over her shoulder. Another was put-
ting some sticks imder a pot, hung from a pole,
which rested on the forks of two others; and one or
two were enjoying a gossip on the grass. The men,
of course, were doing nothing, while the boys were
amusing themselves with their bows and arrows, in
the use of which they are very expert. We had
been told that they could hit almost anything, and
resolved to try them with some coppers, whicn were
certainly very small objects to strike in the air; but
the little fellows were wonderful archers. Each ha'f-

Indian Hahifs.

233

penny got its quietus the moment it left our fingers,
and they even hit a sixpence which Henry, in a fit
of generosity, threw up. Birds must have a very
small chance of escape when they get within range
of their arrows. It brought to my mind the little
Balearic islanders, who in old times could not get
their dinners till they had hit them firom the top of a
high pole with their slings, and country boys I had
seen in England, whom long practice had taught to
throw stones so exactly that they could hit almost
anything. Indeed, there seems to be nothing that
we may not learn if we only try long enough, and
with sufficient earnestness.

It used to astonish me to see the Indians on the
" Reserve" living in bark wigwams, close to comfort-
able log-houses erected for them by Government,
but which they would not take as a gill. I used to
think it a striking proof of the difficulty of breaking
off the habits formed in uncivilized life, and so in-
deed it is ; but the poor Indians have more sense in
what seems madness than I at first supposed. It
appears they feel persuaded that living one part of
the year in the warmth and comfort of a log house
makes them imable to bear the exposure during the
rest, when they are away in the woods on their
hunting expeditions. But why they should not give
up these wandering habits, which force such hard-
ships on them, and repay them so badly after all, is
wonderful, and must be attributed to the inveterate

iii!

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234.

Can the Indians be Civilized?

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force of habit. It seems to be very hard to get wild-
ness out of the blood when once fairly in it. It takes
generations in most cases to make such men civilized.
Lord Dartmouth once founded a college for Indians
in Massachusetts, when it was a British province
and some of them were collected and taught English
and the classics, with the other branches of a liberal
education ; but it was foxmd, after they had finished
their studies, that they were still Indians, and that, as
soon as they had a chance, they threw away their
books and English clothes, to run off again to the
woods and wander about in clothes of skins, and Hve
in wigwams. It is the same with the aborigines of
Australia. The missionaries and their wives have
tried to get them taught the simple rudiments of
English life — ^the boys to work and the girls to sew-
but it has been found that, after a time, they always
got like caged birds beating against their prison, and
that they could not be kept from darting off again to
the wilderness. The New Zealander stands, so far
as I know, a solitary and wonderful exception to this
rule, the sons of men who were cannibals having
already adopted civilization to so great an extent as
to be their own shipbuilders, sailors, captains, clerks,
schoolmasters and farmers.

It seems almost the necessary result of civili2ed
and uncivilized people living together in the same
country that the latter, as the weaker, should fade
away before their rivals, if they do not thoroughly

Their past Decay as a Race, 233

adopt their habits. The aboriginal inhabitants of
the Sandwich Islands are rapidly approaching ex-
tinction in spite of all efforts to secure their perma-
nence. The vices of civilization have corrupted the
very blood of the race till they seem hopelessly
fading away. The natives " New Holland are
vanishing in the same , ,y, ugh not, perha^ ,
fi:om the same immediate causes. The Caribs of the
West Indies, who were so fierce and powerful in the
days of Columbus and his successors, are now ex-
tinct. It is much the same with the Eed Man of
America. The whole continent was theirs firom
north to south, and from east to west, but now they
are only to be found crowded into corners of our
different provinces, a poor and miserable remnant,
or as fugitives in remote prairies and forests, for they
have been nearly banished altogether from the
settled territories of the States. It is a curious fact,
also, that this is not the first time widely-spread
races of their colour have been swept away from the
same vast surface. Remains of former populations,
which have perished before those who themselves are
now perishing, are to be found in many parts, as in
the huge burial mounds of Ohio, and the ruined
cities of Guatemala and Yucatan. Canada has now
settlements of Indians in various places, but they are,
altogether, few in niunber. One is on Manitoulin
Island, near the northern shore of Lake Huron,
where a clergyman of the Church of England, Mr.

■ill

I-;

'i' ■*■ I I

<fti, (9 SI 1- "IB

C I

236 Indian Decay as a Race,

Peter Jacobs, himself an Indian, ministers as a
zealous and efficient missionary ; another, at the
head of River St. Clair, stretches down the bank for
four or five miles, the picture of neglect and aversion
to work, in the midst of improvement at each side-
one on Walpole Island, down the river, where the
missionary is one of the most earnest and laborious I
have had the pleasure of knowing ; one on the banks
of the River Thames, under the charge of the Mo-
ravian brethren — the wreck of tribes who left the
States in the war, last century — ^forming, with another
settlement on the Grand River, near Brantford, the
representatives of those who, in Lord Chatham's day,
brought down that great orator's terrible denuncia-
tion of the '' calling into civilized alliance ther wild
and inhuman inhabitants of the woods, and dele-
gating to the tomahawk and the scalping-knife of
the merciless savage the rights of disputed property."
There are some others to the north and east of
Toronto, but their numbers altogether are but the
shadow of what they were once. Old Courtenay,
speaking to me one day about those on the River St.
Clair, where he had lived from his childhood, shook
his head as a wandering, miserable family passed by
on their wretched ponies, and said, feelingly, " Poor
things! they'll soon follow the rest. I remember
when there were a hundred on the river for twenty
there are now. They all go at the lungs. Lying
out in the wet brings on the terrible cough, and

Indian Decay as a Race, 237

they're gone." The Indian Agent for the west of
the province told me, however, when in England,
lately, that they were keeping up their numbers
now; but I can hardly see how it is possible,
if they do not take more care of themselves. The
very mocassins they wear for shoes are fit, in my
opinion, to kill any one — mere coverings of deer
leather, which soak up water like blotting-paper,
and keep them as if perpetually standing in a pool.
Then they get spirits from the storekeepers, in
spite of every effort on the part of Government
to prevent it, and they often suifer such privations
for want of food as must tell fearfully on their
health. I have oflen watched them passing on
ponies or a-foot ; if the former, the squaws sitting
cross-legged on the bare backs, like men, with their
children round them, and guiding their animals by a
rope halter; the men carrying only a gun, if they
were rich enough to have one; and I have thought
of the contrast between their present state and the
story of their numbers and fierceness, as handed
down in the old French narratives of two hundred
years ago; how they kept the French in perpetual
fear, burning their houses and even their towns;
how the woods swarmed, in different parts, with
their different independent nations — the Hurons,
the Algonquins, the Iroquois, the Ojibbeways — and
how, in later years, they played so terrible a part
in the French and American wars with Great

Mi!t HkM KIHMI

238 Alleged Innocence of Savage Life.

Britain. They seem like snow in summer, when
only a patch lies here and there, awaiting speedy
disappearance, of all that covered hill and valley in
its season. Some tribes, indeed, have passed away
altogether since the first landing of Europeans on the
continent. Those at Nonantum, in Massachusetts,
for whom the great missionary, John Eliot, trans-
lated the Bible two hundred years ago, are all gone,
so that the Book which once spoke to them of the
world to come, and a copy of which still survives in
the museum at Boston, now lies open without a living
creature who can read it. The Mandans, a great
tribe in the western prairies — the only tribe, indeed,
of whom I have heard, among the Indians of the
present day, as building regular fortified and per-
manent villages and towns, have been entirely swept
off within the last thirty years by the small-pox, which
was brought among them by some poor trader.

It is a striking contradiction to what we sometimes
hear of the happy innocence of savage life that the
Indians, when they had all the country to them-
selves, were continually at war with one another.
The Mohawks, who lived in the northern part of the
United States, seem especially to have been given to
strife, often leaving their own side of the great lakes
to make desolating inroads into Canada, imtil their
name became such a word of terror that tie veiy
mention of it spread alarm in an encampment. Even
at this day, I have been assured that to raise the
cry of " the Mohawks are coming," would strike a

The Mohaiv^i

239

delirium of panic through a whole settlement. They
aeern to think they are still somewhere not far off,
and may reappear at any moment. But though the
Mohawks may have left so blood-stained a memory
of themselves, it may be safely said that there was
hardly one tribe better than another. The pages
of the old chroniclers are red with the continual
record of their universal conflicts. At the same
time, it is curious, as showing how widely-spread the
terrors of the Mohawk name came to be, that the
dissolute young men of Addison's day, who were
wont to find pleasure in acts of violence and terror in
the streets of London by night, called themselves
"Mohocks." The French appear to have them-
selves been in part to blame for their sufferings from
the Indians, from the wars they excited between rival
nations, and the readiness with which they furnished
their allies with the means of destruction. The
passions thus kindled too often recoiled upon them-
selves. Their traders had no scruples in supply-
ing to any extent the three great cravings of an
Indian — rum, tobacco, and scalping-knives — the first
of which led, in innumerable cases, to the too ready
use of the last. A scalping-knife, by the way, is an
ugly weapon, with a curved blade like an old-fashioned
razor, but sharp at the point, and was used to cut
off the skin from the top of a dead enemy's head, with
the hair on it, to preserve as a proof of their warlike
exploits. The number of scalps any warrior pos-
sessed being hailed as the measure of his renown in

All KliM

M -i

240 A Narrow Escape,

his tribe, the desire for them became as much a
passion with an Indian as the wish for the Vic-
toria Cross with a British soldier, and raised an
almost migovernable excitement in their breasts
when an opportunity for gratifying it offered itself.
A story is told of a British officer who was travelling
many years ago in America, with an Indian for his
guide, waking suddenly one morning and finding him
standing over him in a state of frenzy, his features
working in the conflict of overpowering passions like
those of one possessed, his knife in his hand, ready, if
the evil spirit triumphed, to destroy his master for
the sake of his scalp. The officer's waking, happily
broke the spell, and the Indian flung himself at the
feet of his intended victim, told him his tempta-
tion, and rejoiced that he had escaped. He had seen
him playing with his long soft hair, he said, and
could not keep from thinking what a nice scalp it
would furnish, till he had all but murdered him to
get it.* ,

That the very name of " Indian" should have
filled the heart of all who heard it in old times with
horror is not to be wondered at. However miserable
they may be now, in great part through their con-
stant wars among themselves, ^they were frightfully
cruel and bloodthirsty savages when their nations

' * The ancient Scythians, also, scalped their enemies.
{Herodotus, Bk. iv. 64.) The Indians are only Scythians
or Tartars who have fallen from the pastoral to the hunting
life.

B much a
the Vic-
raised an
}ir breasts
!ered itself.
IS travelling
idian for his
finding him
hia features
paasiona like
md, ready, if
is master for
king, happUy
limself at the
his tempta-
He had seen
he said, and
nice scalp it
cdered him to

should have
l)ld times witli
ever miserable
Igh their con-
lere frightfully
their nations

their enemies.

only Scythians

ll to the hunting

Narrative of Father Jogues, 241

and tribes were numerous. We have little idea from
anything Canada now offers, as to their manners and
habits, or their character, in the days of their fierce
power ; but it cannot be said that this is owing to
their being civilized or to their having become more
humane. They are still as wild, to a large extent,
as the wild beasts of the woods, in all their habits —
still wanderers — still idle and thriftless — still withouf
anv arts — and still without anything like national
progress. It rises only from their being a crushed
and dispirited remnant, who have lost the bold-
ness of their ancestors, and are fairly cowed and
broken by a sense of their weakness. Out of the
reach of civilization they are still the same as ever ;
and what that was in the days when they were the
lords of Canada we may judge from the accounts left
by the French missionaries, who then lived among
them. The following narrative, which I translate
from its quaint old French, has not, I believe, been
printed before in English, and takes us most vividly
back to those bygone times.* As a Protestant, 1 do
not agree with everything that it contains, but you
can remember that it is the narrative of a Jesuit
priest.

Father Jogues was of a good family of the town
j of Orleans, in France, and was sent to Canada by the
I general of his order in 1636. He went up to the

* "Relations des JSauites dans la Nouvelle France."

jQuebec, 1853. , , , ^ : ^j

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242 Narrative of Father Jogues, .

country of the Hurons the same year, and stayed
there till June, 1642, when he was sent to Quebec
on the affairs of the "great and laborious mission"
among that people. Father Lallemant, at that time
superior of the mission, sent for him, and proposed
the voyage, which was a terrible task, owing to the
difficulty of the roads, and very dangerous from the
risk of ambuscades of the Iroquois, who massacred
every year a number of the Indians allied with the
French. He proceeds to say —

" The proposition being made to me, I em-
braced it with all my heart. Behold us, then
on the way, and in dangers of every kind. We
had to disembark forty times, and forty times
to carry our canoes, and all our baggage, past the
currents and rapids which we met in a voyage
of about three hundred leagues; and although the
savages wiio conducted us were very expert, we
could not avoid the frequent upsetting of our canoes,
accompanied with great danger to our lives, and the
loss of our little luggage. At last, twenty-tliree
days after our departure from the Hurons, we
arrived, very weary, at Three Rivers, whence we
descended to Quebec. Our business being com-
pleted in a fortnight, we kept the feast of St.
Ignatius; and the next day, the 1st of A.iigust,
1642, left Three Rivers to retrace our steps to
the country whence we had come. The first day
was favourable to us; the second, we fell into the

^I's;'

Narrative of Father J agues, 243

hands of the Iroquois. We were forty in number,
divided among different canoes; and that which
carried the advance guard having discovered, on the
banks of the great river, some tracks of men's feet
newly impressed on the sand and clay, made it
known. WTien we had landed, some said they were
traces of an enemy, others were sure they were the
footmarks of Algonquins, our allies. In this conten-
tion of opinion Eustache Ahatsistari, to whom all the
others deferred on account of his deeds of arms and
his bravery, cried out — * Whether they are friends
or enemies does not matter ; I see by their tracks
that they are not more in number than ourselves ;
let us advance, and fear nothing.' ,

"We had hardly gone on a half league when the
enemy, hidden in the grass and brush, rose with a
loud cry, discharging on our canoes a perfect hail of
bullets. The noise of their arquebuses so terrified a
part of our Hurons that they abandoned their canoes,
and their arms, and all their goods, to save them-
selves by flight into the depths of the woods. This
volley did us little harm; no one lost his life. One
Huron only had his hand pierced by a ball, and our
canoes were broken in several places. There were
four Frenchmen of us, one of whom being in the
rear-guard, saved himself with the Hurons, who fled
before approaching the enemy. Eight or ten Chris-
tian catechumens joined us, and having got them to
offer a short prayer, they made head courageously

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£41 Narrative of Father Jogttes.

against the enemy, and though they were thirty men
against a dozen or fourteen, our people sustained
their attack valiantly. But perceiving that another
band of forty Iroquois, who were in ambush on the
other side of the river, were crossing to fall on them
they lost heart, and like those who had been less
engaged, they fled, abandoning their comrades in the
melee. One Frenchman — Ren^ Goupil — since dead
being no longer supported by those who followed
him, was taken, with some Hurons who had proved
the most courageous. I saw this disaster from a
place which effectually concealed me from the
enemy, the thickets and reeds furnishing a perfect
screen, but the thought of thus turning it to ac-
count never entered m.j mind. Could I, I said to
myself, leave our French, and these good neophytes,
and these poor catechumens, without giving them
the helps with which the true Church of God has
entrusted me ? Flight seemed to me horrible. It is
necessary, said I to myself, that my body should
suffer the fire of this world to deliver these poor
souls from the flames of Hell — it is necessary that
it should die a momentary death to procure them life
eternal.

" My conclusion being thus taken without any great
struggle in my mind, I called one of the Iroquois who
was lefl behind to guard the prisoners. He, seeing
me, was at first afraid to approach, fearing an am-
bush. * Approach,' said I, ' fear nothing ; conduct

"Narrative of Father Jogues, 215

me to the French and Hurons you hold captive.'
He advances, and having seized me, adds me to the
number of those who, in a worldly point of view,
would be regarded as utterly wretched. Meanwhile,
those who were chasing the fugitives led back some
of them, and I confessed and made Christians of those
who were not so. At last they led back that brave,
chief, Eustache, who cried out on seeing me, that he
had sworn to live and die with me. Another
Frenchman, named William Couture, seeing the
Hurons take to flight, saved himself, like them, in the
forest; but remorse having seized him at the thought
of abandoning his friei^ds, and the fear of being
thought a coward tormenting him, he turned to come
back. Just then five Iroquois came upon him, one
of whom aimed at him but without effect, his piece
having snapped, on which the Frenchman instantly
shot him dead. His musket was no sooner discharged
than the four were on him in a moment, and having
stripped him perfectly naked, well nigh murdered
him with their clubs, pulled out his nails with their
teeth, pounding the bleeding tips to cause greater
agony ; and, finally, after stabbing him with a knife
in one hand, led him to us in a sad plight, bound
fast. On my seeing him I ran from my guards and
fell on his neck, but the Iroquois seeing us thus ten-
derly affected, though at first astonished, looked on
in silence, till, all at once, thinking, perhaps, I was
praising him for having killed one of their number,

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246 Narrative of Father Jognes,

they ran at me with blows of their fists, with clubs
and with the stocks of their arquebuses, felling me
to the ground half dead. When I began to breathe
again, those who, hitherto, had not injured me
came up and tore out the nails of my fingers with
their teeth, and then bit, one after another, the ends
of the two forefingers thus stripped of their nails
causing me great pain — grinding and cranching them
to pieces, indeed, as if they had been pounded between
two stones, so that fragments of the bones came out.
They treated the good Rene Goupil in the same way,
but they did no harm for the time to Hurons, so
enraged were they at the French for not accepting
peace on their terms the year before.

" All being at last assembled, and their scouts having
returned from chasing the fugitives, the barbarians
divided their booty among themselves, rejoicing with
loud cries. While they were thus engaged I re-
visited all the captives, baptizing those who had not
been so before, and encouraging the poor creatures,
assuring them that their reward would far surpass
their tortures. I perceived after making this round
that we were twenty-two in number, not counting
three Hurons killed on the spot.

" Behold us, then, being led into a country truly
strange to us. It is true that, during the thirteen
days we were on this journey, I suffered almost in-
supportable bodily torments and mortal anguish of
spirit ; hunger, burning heat — besides the impreca-

Narrative of Father Jogues, 247

tions and threats of these leopards in human shape —
and in addition to these miseries, the pain of our
wounds, which, for want of dressing, rotted till they
bred worms, caused us much distress ; but all these
things seemed light to me, in comparison with my in-
ternal suffering at the sight of our first and most ardent
Christians among the Hurons in such circumstances.
I had thought they would be pillars of the new-born
Church, and I saw them become victims of these
bloodthirsty savages.

*' A week after our departure from the banks of the
St. Lawrence, we met two hundred Iroquois in eager
search for Frenchmen, or their Indian allies, wher-
ever they could meet them. Unhappily, it is a belief
among these barbarians, that those who are going to
war are prosperous in proportion as they are cruel to
their enemies; and, I assure you, they made us feel the
effect of this unfortunate opinion. Having perceived
us they first thanked the sun for having caused us
to fall into their hands, and those of their country-
men, and then fired a salute in honour of their
victory. This done, they went into the woods, to
seek for clubs or thorns, as their fancy led them ;
then, thus armed, they formed a lane, a hundred on
each side, and made us pass, naked, down this bitter
path of anguish, each one trying who could strike
oftenest and hardest. As I had to pass last, I was
tlie most exposed to their rage, but I had hardly
got half through, before I fell under the weight of

I i.

S 1*111 »»»«:; j.||g

218 Narrative of Father Jogues,

this hail of reiterated blows ; nor did I try to rise •
partly, indeed, because I wished to die on the spot.
Seeing me down, they threw themselves on me and
God alone knows the length of time I endured this
and the number of blows which were inflicted on my
body, but sufferings borne for His glory are full
of joy and honour I The savages, seeing I had
fallen, not by chance, but that I wislied to die, took
a cruel compassion on me, lifting me up, in tlie
intention of keeping me so that I should reach their
country alive, and then led me, all bleeding, to an
open knoll. When I had come to myself they made
me descend, tormented me in a thousand ways, made
me the butt of their taunts, and recommenced beatin^

me, letting off another hail of blows on my head,
neck, and body. They then burned one finger, and
cranched another with their teeth, and pressed and
twisted those which were already mangled, with the
rage of demons. They tore my wounds open with
their nails, and when my strength failed they put
fire to my arms and thighs. My companions were
treated pretty nearly like myself One of the bar-
barians, advancing with a great knife, seized my nose
in his left hand to cut it off, but, though he attempted
this twice, he was hindered in some way from com-
pleting his design. Had he done it, they would at
last have killed me, for they always murder those
who are much mutilated. *

'; " Having so far satisfied their bloodthirstiness on

Narrative of Father Jogues, 249

our poor frames, these savages departed to pursue
their route, while we continued ours.

" On the tenth day, Ave reached a place where it
was necessary to quit the waterside and travel by
land. This journey, which was about four days
long, was very painful, he who was appointed to
guard me not being able to carry all his plunder, and
giving me a part to carry on my back, all flayed as
it was. We ate nothing for three days but a little
wild fruit, which we pulled in passing. The heat of
the sun at the height of the summer, and our wounds,
weakened us much, so that we had to walk behind
the ethers, and they being much scattered, I told
Rene he should try to save himself; but he would
not leave me, though he could easily have got off. I,
myself, could not think of forsaking my poor little
flock. On the eve of the Assumption we reached a
small stream, a quarter of a league from the first
town of the Iroquois, where we found the banks lined
on both sides with a number of men armed with
clubs, which they used on us with their wonted
ferocity. There were only two of my nails remaining,
and tbese they wrenched off with their teeth, tearing
away the flesh underneath, and baring it to the very
bones with their nails, which they let grow very long.

"After they had thus satisfied their cruelty, they
led us in triumph into this first village, all the young
people being ranged in rows outside the gates, armed,
some with sticks, others, with iron ramrods, which

li'rl

250 Narrative of Father Jogues*

they get from the Dutch.* They made us inarch a

Frenchman at the head, another in the middle, of the
Hurons, and myself the last. We were made to fol-
low one another at equal distances, and, that our tor-
mentors might be the better able to beat us at their
ease, some Iroquois threw themselves into our V.ne to
keep us from running off, or avoiding any blc ws. I was
naked, with the exception of a shi like a criminal
and the others were entirely naked, except poor Rene
Goupil, to whom they showed the same favour as to
me. "We were hardly able to reach the stage pre-
pared for us in the middle of the village, so fearfully
beaten were we; our bodies livid and our faces
bloody. Nothing white remained visible of Rent's
face but his eyes, he was so disfigured. When
mounted on the stage we had a short respite, except
from their violent words, which did not hurt us, but
it was soon over. A chief cried out that they must
* fondle the Frenchman,' which was no sooner said
than done— a wretch, leaping on the scaffold and
giving each of us three great blows with a stick,
but not touching the Hurons. Meanwhile, the
others who w^ere standing close to us, drawing their
knives, treated me as the chief — that is, used me
worst — the deference paid me by the Hurons having
procured me this sad honour. An old man took my
left hand, and ordered an Algonquin woman to cut

* Probably the Dutch settlers in what is now the western '
part of New York State,

Narrative of Father Jognes, 231

off one of my fingers, which she did, after some re-
luctance, when she saw she would be forced to obey, —
cutting off my left thumb. They did this to the
others also. I picked up my thumb from the scaffold,
but one of my French companions told me that if
they saw me with it they would make me eat it, and
swallow it raw, and that I had better throw it away,
which I did. They used an oyster-shell to cut the
thumbs of the others, to give them more pain. The
blood flowing so that we were like to faint, an
Iroquois tore off a piece of my shirt and tied up the
wounds, and this was all the bandage or dressing we
got. When evening came we were brought down to
be led to the wigwams to be made sport for the
children. They gave us a little boiled Indian corn
for food, and made us lie down on a piece of bark,
tying our arms and legs to four stakes fixed in the
ground, like a St. Andrew's cross. The children,
emulating the cruelty of their parents, threw burn-
ing embers on our stomachs, taking pleasure in
seeing our flesh scorch and roast. What hideous
nights ! To be fixed in one painful position, unable
to turn or move, incessantly attacked by swarms of

vermin, with our bodies

smartmg

from recent

woimds, and from the suffering caused by older ones
in a state of putrefaction, with the scantiest food to
keep up what life was left ; of a truth these tor-
ments were terrible, but God is great ! At sun-
rise, for three following days, they led us back to

9m^

252

Narrative of Father Jogues,

the scaiTold, the nights being passed as I have de-
scribed."

Thus far we have given the father's own words
and must condense what remains to be told : —

After the three days were over the victims were
led to two other villages, and exposed naked, under
a burning sun, with their wounds untended, to tlie
same miseries as they had passed through in the first.
At the second, an Indian, perceiving that poor Cou-
ture had not yet lost a finger, though his hands
were all torn to pieces, made him cut off his own
forefinger with a blunt knife, and when he could
not sever it entirely the savage took and twisted
it, and pulled it away by main force, dragging
out a sinew a palm in length, the poor arm swell-
ing instantly with the agony. At the third
village, a new torture was added, by hanging
poor Jogues by his arms, so high that Lis feet did
not touch the ground; his entreaty to be released
only making them tie him the tighter, till a strange
Indian, apparently of his own accord, mercifully
cut him down. At last some temporary suspen-
sion of his sufferings approached. Fresh pri-
soners arrived, and a council determined -hat the
French should be spared, in order to secure advan-
tages from their countrymv'^n. Their hands being
useless from mutilation, they had to be fed like in-

Narrative of Father Jogues. 253

fants, but some of the women, true to the kindly
nature of their sex, took pity on their sufferings, and
did what they could to relieve them. Meanwhile,
Coutiu'e was sent to another village, and Pere Jogues
and Ren(5 remained together.

Unfortunately, however, of the three, only
Couture could reckon upon the preservation of his
life. It was the custom with these savages, that when a
prisoner was handed over to some particular Indian,
to supply a blank in his household, caused by the
death of any of its members in battle, he was forth-
with adopted as one of the tribe, and was thenceforth
safe ; but as long as he was not thus bestowed, he
might be killed, at the caprice of any one, without
the least warning. Of the three, only Couture had
been thus guaranteed security of life ; the two others
felt that their existence still hung by a hair. Nor
was this long without being put to a sad proof, for
Ren^ — full of zeal for what he thought would benefit
the souls of the young Indians — being 'm the habit of
making oi) them the sign of the cross, had taken a
ch"ld's hand before making the sign on its brow, when
an old man, seeing him, turned to its father, and told
him he shoL'ld kill that dog, for he was doing to his
boy what the Dutch had told them would not only
do no good, but would do harm. The advice was
speedily acted on ; two blows of an axe on his head,
as the two were returning from prayer outside the
village, stretched the martyr lifeless, and poor Rent's

254 Narrative of Father Jogusa.

body was then dragged to the bed of a rivulet, from
which a heavy storm washed it, through the niglit, so
tliat his companion could never again find it. This
was in September, 1C42, two months after their leav-
ing Three Rivers. The position of Father Joguea
after this murder may easily be imagined. His life
he tells us, was as uncertain as the stay of a bird
on a branch, from which it may fly at any moment.
But the good man had devotion sufficient to bear
him up, amidst all evil and danger. His mind, kept
in constant excitement, found support in comforting
dreams that soothed his slumbers. In these visions he
would see, at times, the village in which he lived,
and in which he had suffered so much, changed to a
scene of surpassing glory, with the words of Scrip-
ture, written over its gates, " They shall praise Thy
name;" and at other times his thoughts in sleep
would be brightened by the belief that the agonies
he had endured were sent by his Father in Heaven
to fit him for eternal joy, so that, he tells us, he
would often say of them when he woke, " Thy rod
and Thy staflf they comfort me."

At the beginning of winter he was, at last, given
to a family as their slave, to attend them in the
chase, to which they went off thirty leagues, staying
two months at it. Cold though it then was, his only
clothing all this time was a shirt and a poor pair of
drawers, with leggings, and ragged shoes of soft
leather. The thickets tore his skin, and his teet

Narrative of Father Jogues, 255

were cut by the stones, clods, and sliarp edges of
ice. Finding him useless in hunting, they set him
to woman's work, requiring him to gather and bring
in logs for the fire. Half naked, chapped and hacked
in every part by the cold, this was a change ho re-
joiced in, as it gave him the great advantage of
privacy, which, he tells us, he employed for eight
and ten hours together in prayer, before a rude cross
which he had set up. But his masters having found
out how he spent his time, broke his cross, felled
trees close to him to terrify him, and when he re-
turned to the wigwam with his load, played him a
thousand cruel tricks, to get him to desist. One
would level his bow at him, as if about to shoot
him; another would swing his axe over his head,
and tell him he must quit his charms. They de-
clared that his sorceries spoiled their himting ; and
at last conceived such a horror of him, that they
thought his touch pollution, and would not let him
use anything in the wigwams. Had he been willing
to join them in their ways, it would have fared
differently with him ; but, starving as he had been,
he refused to partake of the venison which they had
in abundance, because they offered to the spirit of
the chase all that they took. As soon as he knew of
this, he told them plainly he could not eat what had
been devoted to the devil ; and fell back on his boiled
Indian corn.
Having learned that some old people were aboutj

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256 Narrative of Father Jogues,

to return to the village, Jogues asked permission to
go thither with them. They sent him, therefore
but without a tinder-box and without shoes, though
the snow was now very deep on the ground, it beine
in December. Moreover, they made him carry a
huge burden of smoked meat for the thirty leagues
of journey they had to take, weak and wretched
though he was. At one place, crossing a deep rivulet
over a felled tree, a squaw, who had an infant and a
heavy load on her back, and was in poor health
slipped off and fell into the stream ; on which
Jogues, seeing that her burden was making her
sink, threw off his own, and plunged in, and cutting
away the thongs, carried her to the bank, where the
prompt kindling of a fire by the Indians alone saved
the three from being frozen to death. The little child
being very ill, he tells us "he baptized it forthwith;
and in truth," he adds, " sent it to Paradise, as it died
two days afler." However we may differ from him
as to the efScacy of his act, we cannot withhold our
admiration of the noble spirit that made him cling
to what he thought a work of duty and love, even
in his greatest trials.

He had hardly reached the 'village when he was
sent back again with a sack of com, so heavy, that
what with weakness and the slipperiness of the
ground, he lost his way, and found himself back again
in the camp before he kne^ ■ where he was. This
misadventure was a new cause of suffering for him.

Narrative of Father Jog lies, 257

Every ill name that could be thought of was given
him, and, what was much worse, he was put into a
^vigwam with the same man who had torn out his
iiP.ils, and who was now lying in the utmost filth and
vietchedness, through the effects of some putrid
disease. For fifteen days he had to serve as a slave
amidst these hoirors, until his ov/ners, returning from
tlie chase, took him to their ov<rn dwelling.

During uie winter, he managed, at great risk, to
visit the different villages of the Indians, to en-
couiage the Huron captives. His patience, mean-
while, was gaining him the respect even of such
monsters as these. The mother of his host seemed
touched by his bearing, and this was increased by
his kindness to one who had been among his most
terrible enemies, but who was now lying covered
with sores. Jogues visited him frequently, con-
soled him in his illness, and often went to seek
berries for him to refresh him. About March he
was taken by his hosts to their fishing-ground — a
deliverance from the noise of the village which was
delightful to him, though he still had the same
work of collecting and bringing in wood for the
fire. He was now treated comparatively kindly, but
even here he was in danger. A war-party had been
gone for six months, and not having been heard of,
were thought to have been destroyed, and this was,
by at least >ne, who had a relative with it, attributed
I to the enchantments of the missionary. But, provi-

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258 "Narrative of Father Jogiies,

dentially, the day before he was to have been killed
the warrior? arrived, bringing twenty prisoners in
torturing whom Jogues was forgotten. They forth-
with began public rejoicings; scorching, roasting, and
at last, eating these poor victims. " I think," savg
Jogues, " that the devils in hell must do something
the same, at the coming of souls condemned to their
flames."

At the end of April, a Sokokiois chief made \\\%
appearance in the Iroquois country, charged with
presents, which he came to offer for the ransom of
the missionary, who was known among the tribes by
the name of Ondesson. The presents, he said, came
from the French, and he had a letter from the
governor for Ondesson. This embassy raised the
credit of Jogues, and got him, for the time, some
pity ; but they took the presents, and kept him still
in captivity. At last, having been sent, in 1G43, to
a fishery, which was near a station of the Dutch, lie
was rescued from the clutches of his tormentors by
their head man, who, however, having left shortly
after, handed him to the care of a subordinate, at
whose hands he suffered extremely from hunger and
thirst, and from the fear of falling again into the
power of the Iroquois. After a time, he was taken
down the Hudson to what was then the settlement of |
Manhattan, but is now the city of New York, and
from thence sailed to France, by way of England.!
On the 15th January, 1644, he returned to the

sen killed,
isoners, in
'hey fortli-
asting, and,
link," says
something
ned to their

lef made his
jharged with
be ransom of
the tribes hy
he said, came
iter from the
Bsy raised the
he time, some
kept him still
It, in 1G43, to
the Dutch, lie
tormentors by
,g left shortly
subordinate, at
)m hunger and
again into tk
he was taken |
he settlement of
:ew York, and
-ay of England.]
•eturned to tlie

Narrative of Father Jogiies, 259

colle""e of his order, at Rennes. In the spring of
1C45, he was ready, once more, to return to Canada,
and sailed from Rochelle to Montreal ; and peace
having been made in the interval with the Iroquois,
he was chosen as the pioneer of a new mission among
them. On the IGth May, 1646, in company with
French officials, he set out on a preliminary journey,
to make the necessary preparations, and to ratify the

peace,

returninpr to Three Rivers in the end of June.

Resolved to lose no time, now that the way was
clear, in organizing his mission, though with a pre-
sentiment that it would end in his death, he proceeded,
three weeks after, once more on his way to the scene
of his former sufferings, in company with a young
Frenchman, in a canoe, taking with him some
Hurons as guides. But he went only to meet the
death he had foreboded. He had hardly reached
the Iroquois country when he and his companion
were attacked, plundered, stripped naked, and piTi>
1 jected to the same menaces and blows which he had
I experienced before. A letter from the Dutch f racers,
I some time after, related how their captors, on the
very day of their arrival, told them they would be
killed, adding, that they might be of good cheer,
j for they would not burn them, but would simply cut
I off their heads, and stick them on the palisades of
the village, to let other Frenchmen, whom they ex-
pected to take, see them on their coming. The
I immediate cause of their murder was, that the

A^r um<,,,.

260 Narrative of Father Joguea.

Indians insisted that Jogiies had left the devil
among some luggage he had given them to keep
for him, and th"t their crop of Indian corn had
thus been spoiled. On the 18th October, 1646, the
end of his sufferings came at last. Having been
called from his wigwam to the public lodge on that
evening, to supper, an Indian, standing behind the
door, split his skull, and that of his companion, with
an axe ; and on the morrow, the gate of the village
was garnished vrith their disfigured heads. Only one
division of the nation, however — that with which
he lived, whose distinguishing sign or title wa^ that
of the Bear — seems to have been privy to their
murder. The other tAvo — the divisions of the Wolf
and the Tortoise — resented the massacre, as if com-
mitted on two members of their own tribes.

And thus we take leave of the Jesuit martyr and
his remarkable story. - <

261

. CHAPTER XVI.

The medicine-man — Painted faces — Medals — An embassy —
Religious notions — Feast of the dead — Christian Indians —
Visit to the Indians on Lake Huron — Stolidity of the
Indians — Henry exorcises an Indian's rifle.

The great man among all tribes of Indians that arc not
very greatly changed is the medicine-man — a kind of
sorcerer who acts at once as priest and physician.
Arrayed in a strange dress of bear-skins, or painted
leather, with his head hidden in the scalp of some
animal, or decorated with an extraordinary crest of
feathers, this dignitary still reigns with more p»3wer
than the chiefs in the outlying portions of British
America. Their modes of treatment are strange
enough. A poor infant in one of the settlements lay
ill of fever, aiia the mother, not knowing wdiat to
do for it, summoned the medicine-man to her aid.
He came with his assistant, in full costume, and,
having entered the wigwam where the poor little
creature lay, in a bark cradle, filled with the dust of
rotten wood, began his doctoring by hollowing a
mystic circle in the ground round it, within which
none but those he permitted were to enter. Then,
taking a drum which he had with him., or rather a
double tambourine, filled inside with little stones, he

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T^e Medicine-Man,

commenced rattling it over the child, singing mean-
while with all his might. The noise was enou4
to have given a fever to a person in health, and
was fit to have killed a sick baby outright; but he
kept thumping away, first at its ears — the little
creature crying with fright — then at its back and
its sides, till the sound was well-nigh deafening.
Next came a mysterious course of deep breathing-
from the bottom of his stomach, all round the child's
body, which completed his treatment. Stranf^e
to say, the child got better, and of course the
faith in the conjuror greatly increased. " There
was a black thing in its inside," he said, "which
needed to be driven out, and he had done it by the
noise and singing." It must, indeed, have been in
spite of him, instead of by his help, that the poor
child was restored.

The dress of the Indians varies at different times,
and according to the degree of civilization they have
reached. Here and there you meet with one who
has adopted European clothing, but these are rarely
seen. Thev held a feast on a mound, by the road-
side, i)i the summer after we went to the river-
men, v'omen, and children mustering to take part in
it. Their clothing, excepting that of one or two,
was about the same as usual — that is, a ,^liirt and
leggings, or the shirt only ; but their faces shoAved a
most elaborate care in the " getting up." Paint of
different colours was lavishly expended on them.

Indian Dancing, 263^

One had his nose a bright blue ; his eyes, eyelids,
and cheeks, black ; and the rest of his face a lively
red. Others had streaks of red, black, and blue,
drawn from the ears to the moutli. Others were all
black, except the top of the forehead, and the parts
round the ears, and the tip of the chin. Two lads
amused me by the pride they evidently took in their
laces; that of the one being ornamented by a stroke
of vermilion, broad and bright, upward and down-
v,ard, from each corner of the mouth, in a slanting
direction; while that of the other rejoiced in a broad
streak of red and blue, straight across his cheeks,
from each side of his nose. The solemnities con-
sisted of speeches from their orators, which were
fluent enough, and were accompanied with a great
deal of gesticulation, but were totally incomprehensible
to rae. Then followed a dance, in which all the men
joined; some women, sitting in the middle, beating
a rude drum with a bone, while the men formed
in a circle outside, and each commenced moving
slowly round, lifting his legs as high as possible, at
the risk, I thought, of throwing the dancer before
him off his balance, by some unhappy accident,
which, however, they were skilful enough to avoid.
Meanwhile, the orchestra kej)t up a monotonous
thumping, accompanied by a continuous grunting.
noise, wliich passed for singing. There could be
notliin. more ludicrous than to see them with all
solemnity pacing round, each with a leg in the air,

A;f KDMiiiu

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264 Indian Loyalty,

as if they had been doing something awfully im-
portant. Dancing ended, the reward of their
labours followed. A huge kettle, hanging from a
stout pole, over a fire close by, proved to have for its
contents the carcase of a large dog — one of the many
who prowl round all wigwams — but it must have
been fattened for the occasion, as they are lean
enough generally. Hands and mouths were the
only implements for the repast, but they served the
j)urpose. The poor dog made its way, with amazing
rapidity, down the crowd of hungry throats ; but the
sight so disgusted me that I hastily left them.
• The Indians are very loyal in every part of British
America. A number of old men are still alive who
hold medals for their services in the war of 1812-14
with the United States, and very proud they are
of them. I remember finding a deputation from
some tribe returning from a visit to the Governor-
General, on board one of the lalce steamers, and was
struck with the great silver medal, almost like a
porter's badge, which the eldest wore on his breast,
with the well-known profile of King George III. on
it. By the way, one of the three or four Indians cf
the party was the handsomest man of the race I ever
saw — tall, of full figure, with exquisite featin*es, and
soft curling hair. He must surely have been
partly w^hite. The dress they wore showed strikingly
the meeting of the old wildness and the new civiliza-
tion. That of the old bearer of the medal consisted of

Indian Loyalty, 2G5

a very broad-brimmed, high-crowned, and broad-
belted black hat — such a hat as I never saw except
among the Indians, and which must have been made
from a pattern specially designed to please them by
its extraordinary size; a light brown shabby frock-
coat, with very short tails and large brass buttons;
a great white blanket thrown over it, and a pair of
ordinary trowsers, with mocassins on his feet, com-
pleting the costume. There was a great slit in his
ears for ornaments; a string of wampum hung round
his neck, and in one hand lay a long Indian pipe,
while, from the other, the skin of a fox, made into a
tobacco-pouch, "hung at his side. One of the others
had leggings instead of trowsers, with broad bands
of beads at the knees to fasten them, and a bag
about the size of a lady's reticule, with a deep fringe
of green threads nine or ten inches long, all round
it, hung from his arm. I have no doubt that even
the feeble remnant of the race that still survives
would at once offer to fight for our Queen if their ser-
vices should ever unfortunately be needed. " Their
great mother across the waters" is the object of as
much loyal pride to them as to any of her covmt-
less subjects. Some years ago a United States
officer was removing some Indians from the settled
parts to the other side of the Mississippi, and had
encamped one day, when he saw a party approach-
ing. Taking out his glass, he found that they were
Indians, and forthwith sent off an Indian from hia

Alt UMM;,|||^

i, *■•■»«*

266 Religious Notions,

own band to meet them, with the stiira and stripes
on a flag. No sooner was the republKan banner
displayed than, to the astonishment of tlio officer the
strange Indian unrolled the Red Cuoss of St. GEonoE
and held it up as that under which he ^-anged. Tlie
Amei-ican wanted him to exchange ilags, but ho
would not; for, said he, "I live near the Hudson
r 17 Company, and they gave me this flag, and told
me that it came from my gi'eat mother across the
great waters, and would protect me and my wife and
children, wherever we might go. I have found it is
true as the white man said, and / will never part
with it.''''

One of the most intelligent Indians I ever met was
a mission ij among his countrymen in the Far "West,
who liappened to be on a steamer with me. He gave
me a great deal of information respecting the religious
notions of his people, one part of which I thought
very curious. He said that the Indians believed
that, at death, the spirits of men went to the
west, and came to a broad river, over which there
was no bridge but the trunks of trees laid endwise
across. On tlie farther side stretched prairies
abounding with all kinds of game, and every possible
attraction to the Indian, to reach which, every one,
as he came, ventured on the perilous path that
offered the means of getting over. But the wicked
could not, by any means, keep their footing. The
logs rolled about under them till they slipped into

ira and stripes
ililican banner
■ the officer, tlic
J ofSt.Oeorok,
3 ranged. The
J lhig3, but ho
oar tbc Hudson
is flag, and told
lOther across the
and uiy wife and
have found it is
will never part

IS I ever met was
I in the Far West,
ithme. He gave
icting the religious
which 1 thought
Indians believed
len went to the
over which there
;reea laid endwise
stretched prairies
and every possible
which, every one,
lerilous path that
But the wicked
^eir footing. The
1 they sUpped into

Feast of the Dead, 207

the river, which bore them hopelessly away. The
good hidian, on the contrary, found everything easy.
The logs lay perfectly still beneath his tread, some
kind influence kept him safely poised at each
treacherous step, and he landed safe and happy,
amidst loud welcomes, on the amber banh i.(>yond.
The poor creatures seem to think that tbcu- frienda
need many things afl;er death to which have

been used in life. Lonely graves may be uilen i-<!en
in the woods, or, perhaps, they only seem lonely
from the others having sunk down, and in them, aa
in those which are gathered together in the common
burial-places of the different reserves, beneath a little
birch-bark roof raised over them, the surviving
friends put, periodically, presents of rice, tobacco,
and other Indian delights. It used to be the habit
in all parts of Canada, as I have been told it still is in
the distant places of the Continent, to gather all
the dead of a nation together, from time to time, and
bury them in a common grave. Twelve years were
allowed to pass, and then the old men and the no-
tables of the diflTerent divisions of the tribe assembled
and decided when they would hold " the feast," for
so they called it, so as to please each section and the
aUied tribes as well. This fixed, as all the corpses
had to be brought to the village where the common
grave had been dug, each family made arrangements
respecting its dead, with a care and affection which
were very touching. If they had parents dead in any

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268 lead of the Bead.

part of the country, they spared no pains to bring
their bodies ; they lifted them from their graves, and
bore them on their shoulders, covered with their best
robes. On a given day the people of each village
went to their own cemetery, where the persons who
had charge of it — ^for there were parties appointed to
this office — raised the bodies in presence of the sur-
vivors, who renewed the grief they exhibited on the
day of their first burial. All the corpses were ranged
side by side, and, being uncovered, were exposed
thus for a considerable time, that all around might
see what they would themselves some day become.
You may think what a sight this must have been ;
some of the bodies mere skeletons, some like mum-
mies, and others mere shapeless corruption. Those
which were not reduced to skeletons were, after a
little, stripped of their flesh and skin, which, with
the robes in which they had been buried, were burned.
The bodies which were still uncorrupted were
merely wrapped in skins, but the bones, when
thoroughly cleaned, were put in sacks or in robes,
and laid on their shoulders, and then covered with
another skin outside. The perfect corpses were
put on a kind of bier, and, with all the rest, were
taken each to its own wigwam, where the several
households held, each, a feast to its dead.

They have a curious idea respecting the soul, as
the reason of this strange custom — at least those of
them who, not being as yet Christians, still practise

Feast of the Dead, 2G9

it. They think that the dead have two aouls,
distinct and material, but each endowed with
reason. The one separates itself from the body at
death, and hovers over the burial-place, till the
Feast of the Dead, after which it is turned into a
turtle-dove, or goes straight to the Land of Spirits.
The other is, as it were, attached to the body, and
still remains in the common grave, after the feast is
over, never leaving it unless to enter the body of an
infant, which the likeness of many of the living to
those who have died seems to them a proof that
they do.

When the feast is over, all the dead of each
village are taken to a large wigwam, set apart for the
purpose, and filled with poles and rods, from which
the perfect bodies and the bags of bones are hung,
along with countless gifts which the relatives present,
in the name of the dead, to some of their living
friends. This display of their riches accomplished,
it remains only to take the ghastly loads to the
common grave on the day appointed, which they do
with frequent cries, which they say lighten the weight
and secure the bearers from disease. At the central
rendezvous, the same hanging of the corpses on
poles, and the same display of presents, is again
made, and, then amidst terrible cries and confusion,
the whole are put into the general burial-pit, which is
lined underneath with sable furs, to make the spirits
happy in their homes in the other world. But they

'i .t-^^^^

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270

Christian Indians.

do not bury the presents with them, nor the outer
skins in which they were wrapped; these they retain
for themselves. In some tribes, in former times, a great
mound or barrow heaped over the spot marked the
resting-place of the multitude, in others the ground
was simply levelled, and then, after rejoicings in their
own wild way till they were tired, the living crowd
dispersed, each party to its own village.*

A great change has come over the customs and
feelings of many of the Indians, since missionariea
went among them, and though in old settlements
you often meet Pagans even yet, there are others
who give the best proofs that they are true Chris-
tians. It is delightful to see them on the Sabbath,
wending their way, calm and in a right mind, to
their lowly church, through the glades of the forest ;
and wild though the sound often is, I have listened
to their singing the glorious praises of God with an
interest which I hardly ever felt in any more civilized
gathering. One of the hymns which have been made
expressly for them, and of which they are especially
fond, has always struck me as particularly touching,
by its exact appreciation of an Indian's feelings, and
its remarkably skilful adaptation to their broken
V Ish. I feel sure it has never appeared in print

betore, at least in Britain, as I got it from a mis-

\
* Nothing like this is done in Canada now, so far as I
know ; but in the "Belations des Jdsuites" it is spoken of
as the general custom.

Indian ff^mn, 271

gionary in Nova Scotia, who knew the author, him-
self a missionary, and told me it existed only in manu-
script so far as he knew. Here it is :

"THE INDIAN'S PRAYER.

"In de dark wood, no Indian nigh,
Den me look heb'n, and send up cry,

Upon ray knee so low ;
Dat God on high, in shiny place,
See me in night wid teary face,

My heart, him tell me so.

** Him send him angel, take me care.
Him come himself, and hearum prayer.

If Indian heart do pray.
Him see me now, Him know me here.
Him say, * Poor Indian, never fear.

Me wid you night and day.'

" So me lub God wid inside heart.
He fight for me. He takum part,

He sabe em life before.
God lub poor Indian in de wood,
And me lub He, and dat be good.

Me pray Him two time more.

" When me be old, me head be grey.
Den Him no leab me, so Him say,

* Me wid you till you die.'
Den take me up to shiny place.
See white man, red man, black man face,

All happy 'like* on high."

One day, in the second summer we were on
the river, the clergjrman asked me, in passing, if I
would Uke to go up Lake Huron with him, on a
missionary visit to a settlement of Indians, and of

« t. e. , alike.

mM'M

Alia*

•ill

f 1

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272

Zah Huron,

course I told him I should. It was soon settled
when we should start, which we did in a little boat
two men going with us to take charge of it. "We
had oars with us, but the boat was too heavy for
their easy use, and we trusted to a sail, the cord
from which one of us held in his hand, to prevent
any sudden gust from upsetting us. "We were soon
out on the glorious Lake Huron, which, like all the
great lakes, cannot be distinguished from the sea by
ordinary eyes; but we did not attempt to get out of
sight of the coast, intending to run into it if any J
sudden storm should rise. As darkness set in the
sight overhead was beautiful beyond anything, I
think, I ever saw. The stars came out so large and
bright that it seemed as if you could see behind
them into the depths beyond. They seemed to hang
down like globes of light from the great canopy of
the heavens. It was deliciously calm, *the soft wind
from behind, as it gently swelled the sail, serving to
make the feeling of repose the more perfect. After
sailing a day and a night, and the half of the next
day, we at last reached the point where we were to
land — a narrow tongue of sand, along which a
stream, flowing through an opening in the sand-hills
that line the coast, crept into the lake. It took us
the rest of the afternoon to row as far as we wished,
and to get our supper of beef and some hard eggs,
with a cup of tea, without milk, which we got ready
at a fire on the beach. The water we had to use

A Night ofEorrwrs, 273

was our greatest trouble. It was nearly the colour
of ink, from the swamps through which it had flowed,
and made our tea the reverse of pleasant in taste ;
but there was no choice, so that we made ourselves
as contented as possible. Accommodation for the
night was soon provided by stretching the sail over
the mast, which was laid on two forked poles, a yard
or so from the ground. This gave room for two ;
the two others were to sleep on the ground without
this apology for a covering. A huge fire, kindled
close to us, served to keep off the mosquitoes,
or rather was intended to do so. Wrapping an
old buffalo robe, or a quilt, round each of us, we
were soon stretched out to try to get sleep ; but its
sweet delight kept far enough from us all. Oh I
the horrors of that night. The mosquitoes came
down like the wolves on a fold, piercing through
smoke and fire, and searching in the dark but too
successfully for our noses, cheeks, and hands. The
ants, too, were in myriads, and made their way up
our boots to any height they thought proper. Once
in, there was no getting these plagues out. We rose,
went through every form of trouble to rid oiu'selves
of them, but some still remained to torment us after
each effort. Then the smoke itself was fit to make
one wretched. It swept in, in clouds, as often as
the fire was stirred. At last, however, morning
I came, and, with its first dawn, we were up for the
clay; but what figures we presented! My worthy

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^74 Negotiation loith an Indian.

friend's nose seemed to have been turned upside
down in the night, the mosquito-bites having made
it much thicker near the eyes than at the bottom.
It was irresistibly laughable to us all, except the
unfortunate bearer, who was really unwell, partly
through the mosquitoes, partly through the exposure.

Luckily for our breakfast, a Potowattomie Indian

a short old man, in a shirt, leggings, and mocassins
and crowned with a tremendous hat — came in sight
as we were busy preparing it with some more
of the villanous water. He was soon amongst us
desiring to see what we were, and what we were
doing, and, fortunately for us, the contents of the
kettle attracted his attention. With unmistakeable
signs of disgust, he urged us to throw it out forth-
with, and very kindly went to the side of the river,
and, by scooping out the sand at the side, close to
the stream, with his hands, obtained at once a little
well of water clear as crystal, which we most
gladly substituted for the liquid we had been using.
Meanwhile, an animated negotiation was beiogi
carried on with our benefactor as to the terms
wished to make for guiding us to the Indian settle- 1
ment — ^grunts and dumb show having to do thej
work of words. A few charges of powder and shi
at last, secured his services, and ere long, all being I
ready, we set out. Our route led us directly inland,!
over the huge barrier of sand, with which the edge!
of Lake Huron, at that part, is guarded. From its!

An Indian Settlement.

275

top we looked, far and near, over the forest, which,
close at hand, was very miserable and stunted, from
the hindran . to any chance of drainage offered by
the hill on which we stood. At a distance, liowever,
it rose in all its unbroken and boundless grandeur—
the very image of vastness and solitude. Descending
the inner slope, we were soon making the best of our
vay across the brown water of successive swamps,
with thin trees felled, one beyond another, as the
only bridges. " Mind your feet there, George,"
cried my friend, as I was making my way, Blondin
fashion, across one ; but he had more need to mind
his own, for the next minute he was up to the knees
in water of the colour of coffee. An hour's walking
brought us to the settlement, which consisted of a
number of wigwams, raised among very small clear-
ings, a log-house at one part marking the interpreter's
house — ^himself an Indian. A messenger having been
sent round, we had before long a congregation in the
chapel, which was a log-house, without aa'ts, but
with a desk at the one end, the other being appro-
priated, in great part, to the door, which was large
enough to have served for the door of a barn. The
[squaws, in blankets, and blue cloth petticoats, and
ings, with large silver brooches on their bosoms,
land bare heads, squatted down on the one side;
Ithe men, in all varieties of costume, from a shirt up-
[wards, took possession of the other; the door stand-
ling open during the whole service, so that we, at the

1
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Bill
■inihllMiillfii

M.^

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276 Slolidit^ of the Indians,

upper end, looked out into the forest, which was
close at hand. The dogs, of course, formed part of
the audience, some of them lying in the open space
of the middle, and others at the door. One, which
was more troublesome than the others during the
service, walked straight up the middle, and stood
looking the clergyman in the face, to his no small
annoyance, but was soon made to suffer for his
want of respect. One of the men rose, silently as a
shadow, and slipped up behind the four- legged
hearer till he came close to his long tail ; on this his
hands closed in a moment, and then away went tlie
poor brute, with a great swing, over his head
in a succession of summersaults to the door, out
of which, when it reached the ground, it rushed
with prolonged howls, and was seen no more
while we were there. Not a countenance moved
while this extraordinary ejectment was being
effected, and the Indian himself resumed his place
as solemnly as if he had been performing only an
ordinary duty. It was very slow work to speak
through the interpreter, but the Indians sat it out
with patient fortitude, trying as it must have been
to these wild creatures, so little prone to sedentary
occupation, to listen to such a tedious process. A
walk back, after all was over, brought us to ouri
boat, which we had left on the beach, and indue
time, after a pleasant sail, we swept down the St.j
Clair once more, glad enough to get safely homeagaiD.

Stolidity of the Indians, 277

The perfect stolidity of the Indians under any
jmount of excitement is wonderful — unless, indeed,
under the influence of whiskey, or excited by the
pursuit of hunting — for, usually, you might as well
expect to move the features of an imago as theirs.
When railroads were introduced into Canada, they
were a source of wonder to every one who had
not seen them, the Indians alone excepted. They
did not even spare a grunt, but marched into the
carriages with the same composure as if they had
been familiar with them from their childhood. In
any house they may enter, you can detect no sign of
cariosity, still less of wonder, in any of their move-
ments. The same cast-iron physiognomy is kept
from the first to the last, whatever objects of interest
you may have to show them.

It is very hard for us to realize how difficult it is
to get a new idea into such minds. A minister of
my acquaintance, who lived among the Indians, told
me what great trouble he had to teach them the use
of a mill. He had got them to grow some wheat,
and to ♦cut it down, by doing a large part of the
work himself; and when the time came to turn it
into flour, he had to help to put it into sacks, to help
to get it into a canoe, to go with them to the mill,
to show them how to give it to the miller, get back
the flour, get it put into the sacks again, and then into
the canoe, and paddle home. Every thing had to be
acted before they would do it themselves.

ii;

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'J,

1; ' ,.:

278 Indian Superstition,

As miglit bo expected, they are superstitious in
proportion to tlieir ignorance. One day, an Indian
came to Henry in great diatress, telling liini hig gun
was bewitched, and could not shoot straight, and
asking him if ho coidd make it right. Henry of
course, knew that the poor fellow was only labourinf
under a delusion, and at once told him ho would
make it all right. Ho, therefore, asked hiui to let
him have it for the night, his wish being to have an
opportunity of cleaning it thoroughly. Having niado
it all right, on the Indian's return he handed it to
him, with all solemnity, telling him it was perfectly
cured now. " Me shoot ten days — get nothing,"
said the unfortunate sportsman. " It's all right,
now, though," replied Henry, assuring him, besides,
that there were no more witches about it. Some-
time after, we were surprised by an Indian's coming
to the house with the hind legs of a deer, telling us
they were from the Indian for the " man cured gun."
Henry was from home at the time, and as he Lad
said nothing about his unbewitching the weapon, tlie
gift was a mystery until his return. The gratitude
shown for so small a favour was very touching, and
impressed us all in the Indian's favour. He must
have published Henry's wonderful powers, as well as
rewarded them, for that same winter another Indian
came to him in the woods, where he happened to be,
with the same story, that his rifle was bewitched, and
would not shoot. Vith a good deal of sly humour,

Indian Superstition. 279

Henry determined to j)ljiy tlio conjuror this time, as
he Imd no chance of getting the weapon home. He
therefore told the Indian to sit down, and then drew
a circle roimd him and tlie infected rifle, and pro-
ceeded to walk mysteriously round him, uttering all
the while any amount of gibberish ho could think of,
and making magic passes in all directions. After
repeating this a number of times, he took the rifle
into his hands, and proceeded to examine it carefully,
and seeing that it was in perfect order, he announced
the ceremony to be complete, and handed it back
again, with the assurance that he was not to be afruid
of it, that he had only to take a good aim, and that
there were no witches about it now. The Indian
grunted thanks, and made off; and Henry heard no
more of it till, some months after, whcii he happened
|. to be in a neighbouring village, the subject of his
charms, to his surprise, came up to him, and told
him " he must be great doctor — Indian's gun shoot
right ever since he cured it." Henry answered that
it had needed no cure, and that he had only done
what he did because the Indian would not have
believed his rifle was right if he had not done some-
thing. Wliat the effect was on the Indian's notions
I know not, but we certainly heard no more of
bewitched rifles.

lit I

280

CHAPTER XVII.

The humming-bird — Story of a pet — Canada a good country
for poor men — A bush story of misfortune — Statute
labour — Tortoises — ^The hay season — Our waggon-driving
— Henry and I are nearly drowned — Henry falls ill—
Backwood doctors.

It was in May of the second year I first noticed
the humming-bird. There are different species in
Canada in summer, but all seem equally beautiiul.
"When I first saw one, it was like a living gem,
darting hither and thither in the open round the
house, never resting but for a few moments, while
it poised itself on its lovely wings, which seemed
motionless firom the very rapidity of their vibration.
No bird flies so fast, small though it be, so that it is
impossible to follow it as it darts from spot to spot.
Later in the season, a bunch of flowers, at an open
window, was pretty sure to bring one quivering over
them, preparatory to thrusting its long thin bill into
the cups, to drink the sweets that lay at the bottom.
Sometimes in the evenings, they might be seen, for
half an hour at a time, darting at the little clouds of
flies which dance in the air, under the branches of
the trees, or in the open, — retiring to a twig to rest
when tired. They seem, for a great part of their
time, to feed on such insects, the stomach of several

.■'.■■■11

The Humming-bird, 281

humming-birds I have heard, having been found
full of them when opened. There is a charming
account in a Philadelphia magazine of one which
shewed greater familiarity with man than has ever
been known from any other of its species.* One of
the young ladies of a family was sitting at an open
window, when a humming-bird flew in, very feebly,
and dropped on the floor, apparently exhausted. To
pick it up was the work of a moment; and the
thought that it might be tired and hungry, after a
long flight, forthwith set its friend to try whether
she could tempt it to eat anything. Mixing some
cream and sugar, and pouring a little of it into the
cup of a bell-shaped flower, the beautllul creature,
to her great delight, at once began to sip, and gather-
ing strength as he did so, by and by flew off" through
the window once more. Next day, and every day
thenceforth, through -the summer, the little thing
came back about the same time, for another repast,
fluttering against the window, if it happened to be
shut ; and whenever he had not got enough, flying
backwards and forwards close at hand, in great rest-
lessness till a fresh supply had been manufactured.
It did not matter who was in the room, the sight of
the flower held out brought him in, when he was
waiting for his meal; indeed, his natural timidity
seemed to have been entirely laid aside. Late in
the season, a day passed without his visit, and they
* Quoted iu Gosse's "Canadian Naturalist."

■i.:iil

h:<

1*11 4I«I

282 Canada good for the Poor.

found that, in all probability, he had flown off to the
south for the winter. Whether he came back ao-ain
the next spring has not been recorded.

Some of the settlers in the bush, back from the
river, were striking examples of the benefits a poor
man may get from coming to such a country as
Canada. I used often to go back on various errands
and was always delighted with the rough plenty of
farmers who, not many years ago, had been labourers
at home, with only a few shillings a week for wawes.
Now, by steady labour and sobriety, many amongst
them were proprietors of a hundred acres of excellent
land, and sat doAvn at each meal to a table which
even Avell-to-do people in England are not in the
habit of enjoying. But there were some cases of
failure, which no less strongly brought the peculiar
circumstances of the country before me. Ten
miles away from us, and lying back from the river,
a person who had been a baker in London, but had
determined to turn farmer, had settled some years
before. He built a log-house, and cleared a patch,
but it was slow work, as he had to bring on his back
all the flour and potatoes, or what his household
needed, tlie whole way from the river, through the
forest, over swamps, and every other difficulty that
lay in his road. After a time he fell ill of fever and
ague — the great curse of new or low-lying districts
in Canada and the States. For eight months he
could do no work, and meanwhile his family were

>wnoffto the

A BiisJi Story of Misfortune. 283

(Iriven to the greatest straits to keep themselves
alive. At last, he was able to get about once more.
Everything was behind with him, but he was still
unbroken in spirit. But now came a new trial:
a great tree, which had been left standing near
his house, fell down across it, breaking in the
roof, though fortunately without killing any one.
The axe and patience offered the means of escaping
from this misfortune also; and, before long, the tree
was removed, and the shattered dwelling restored.
For awhile all went on well enough after he had thus
once more got on his feet. But his troubles were
not yet at an end. Coming home one night with a
heavy load, on his weary ten miles' road from the
front, in crossing a swamp on a round log, his foot
slipped, and a sharp stake ran through his boot deep
mto the flesh, impaling him, as it were, for a time.
How he got home I know not, but of course he left
his load behind him, and had to crawl to his house
as best he could. This last calamity fairly crushed
his hopes of success ; and, on recovering, he aban-
doned his la. id, moved with his family to a town
eighty miles off, and took service at his old trade,
in Avhich, after a time, he was able to recommence
business on his own account. • .

When the roads got pretty dry in the summer
time, we were all summoned by the " pathmaster"
of our neighbourhood — a dignitary who is elected
annually to superintend the repairs of the different

284

statute Labour,

roads — \m do our statute labour. As money to pay
a substitute was out of the question, we had of
course, ourselves to shoulder shovels, and tiu-n out
for the six days' work required of us. My three
elder brothers, and a number of neighbours, were on
the ground on the day appointed, but they were an
hour or two later than they would have required any
labourers they might have hired to have been, and they
forthwith commenced their task. It was amusing to see
how they managed to get through the time, what with
smoking, discussing what was to be done, stopping
to chat, sitting down to rest, and all the manoeuvres
of unwilling workers. A tree had to be cut up at
one part and hauled together for burning oiF; a
ditch dug from nowhere to nowhere, at some other
point; a bridge to be repaired, at a third, by
throwing a log or two across it, in the places irom
which broken ones had been drawn out ; a mud
hole filled up, at a fourth ; and the corduroy road,
over a swamp, made more passable, at a fifth, by
throwing a large quantity of branches on it, and
covering them deeply with earth, so as to get a
smooth surface. " I guess I've done more for the
Queen, nor she's done for me," said John Courtenay,
as he sat down for the tenth time. " I'U take it
easy now, the boss is up the road," the " boss" being
the pathmaster, who had gone off to another gang
at some distance. You may be sure our engineering
was very poorly done, but it was all we had to look

Tortoises,

285

t;o to keep the roads passable at all in the wet
weather. The vacant lots, every here and there,
were the greatest hindrance to any improvements
worthy the name, nobody caring to repair the road
through an absentee's land, though all suffered from
its being neglected.

There were a number of tortoises in the ponds in
the woods and by the roadside, and they used to give
us a good deal of amusement. They were of all
sizes, but generally not very large, and were really
beautiful in the markings of their shells, when you
had them close at hand. But to get near enough
for this was the difficulty. They used to come out
of the water, in the middle of the day, to sun them-
selves, or to sleep, on the dry logs which lay over
it, and the great point was to try to keep them
from plumping off in an instant, rather than making
to the land. It was all but hopeless to try it, but
we would not give it up. Sometimes we came upon
them, away from the water a little, and then we had
it all our own way with them. They move very
awkwardly on the ground, and seem too stupid to do
even as much as they might, but they must not be
handled incautiously, for they give terrible snaps
with their horny mouths, which are like the sides of
a smith's vice for hardness and strength of hold. A
poor Scotchman who came out one summer, found
out this to his cost. He had been coming down the
road, and saw a large tortoise, or " mud turtle," as

-Hill-:.

286

Tortoises,

the Canadians call them, apparently sound asleep at
the edge of the creek. Of course, he thought he had
come on a treasure, and determined to catch it if
possible. Stealing, therefore, breathlessly, up to the
spot, he made a grab at it before it suspected danger
and in a minute had it swinging over his shoulder
by its foreleg. The leg was short, and the round
shield that covered the creature was therefore close
up to his head. He thought he would take it home
and show the good folks this wonder of the woods ;
perhaps he thought of taming it, or of making combs
for his wife out of its back shell. At any rate,
on he jogged quite proud of his acquisition. He
would soon get over the five miles more he had to
walk, and then what excitement there would be at
the sight of such a creature. But, by this time, the
turtle had recovered presence of mind enough to look
round him, and accordingly poked his head out, and
in doing so came invitingly close to his captor's ear,
on which his two jaws closed in a moment. If
ever a prisoner had his revenge he had it. The
Scotchman might have pulled his ear off, in trying
to get free, but nothing short of that seemed of any
use. He could not let go the leg, for that would
leave the whole weight of the turtle hanging from
his ear, and he could not keep his arms up without
getting cramps in them. But he had to try. In
misery, with his wretched ear bent down close to the
shell, and his hands immovably raised to the same

Tortoises.

287

shoulder the whole way, he had to plod on, the
whole distance, to his house, where his appearance
created no small alarm as he came near. Nothing
could even then be done to loosen the creature's
hold ; it was like a \'ice, — until at last they managed
to relieve him, by getting the head far enough out
to cut it off, after which the jaws were at last parted,
and the sufferer allowed to tell his luckless adventure.
One of our neighbours used to shock our notions ot
propriety by eating the "turtles" he caught. " There
are fish, there are flesh, and there are fowl on a
turtle," he used to say in his bad English, in
describing their charms, but the worthy JNIanksman
got no one to join him in his appreciation of th«n.
The Indians have a kind of religious veneration for
them, and would not, on any account, do them any
harm. I knew one who acted as interpreter at a
missionary station, who used to say that the hardest
trial he had had, after he became a Christian, was
one day in summer, when, having pounced upon a
tortoise, he took it on his back to carry it home, and
was overtaken by a dreadful storm of thunder and
lightning. He said that he could hardly get over the
thought, that it was because he had offended the
sacred creature, and this notion fairly made him per-
spire with terror ; but he had the courage to resist
his alarm, and after the sky had cleared, he lifted it
once more on his shoulder, and went home resolved
never to yield to fear of such a kind again.

V ■

l«i««%),,

'••^1

288 T/ie Hay Season,

The hay in the neighbourhood was mown about
the end of June, and as our own supply was, as yet
far short of our requirements, we had to buy a quan-
tity. To get it cheaper, we undertook to send our
waggon to the field for it, and bring it home our-
selves. Henry and I were detailed for this service
and started one morning with the oxen and the
waggon, a frame of light poles having been laid on
the ordinary box to enable us to pile up a suffi-
cient load. I had to get inside, while Henry forked
4p the hay from the cocks on the ground, my part
being to spread it about evenly. We got on famously
till the load was well up in the frame, the oxen
moving on from one cock to another, through the
stumps, at Henry's commands, but without any
special guidance. All at once, while they were
going at the rate of about two miles an hour, the
wheels on one side gradually rose, and before I could
help myself, over went the whole frame, hay and all,
on the top of Henry, who was walking at the side.
The oxen had pulled the load over a hillock at the
foot of a stump. I was sent clear of the avalanche,
but Henry was thrown on his back, luckily with his
head and shoulders free, but the rest of his body em-
bedded in the mass. Neither of us was hurt, how-
ever, and we laughed heartily enough, after we had
recovered our self-possession, the first act being to I
stop the oxen, who were marching off with the four
wheels, as solemnly as ever, and had no idea of

Henry and I nearly Drotvned. 289

coming to a halt without orders. Of course we had
to clear the frame, get it set up again on the waggon,
and fork up all the hay once more, but we took care
of the oxen the second time, and met no more
accidents.

Henry and I were very nearly drowned, shortly
after this, in that great lumbering canoe of ours, by
a very ridiculous act on our own parts, and an
unforeseen roughening of the water. Some bricks
were needed to rebuild the chimney, and they could
not be had nearer than the opposite side of the river.
Henry and I, therefore, set off in the forenoon to get
them, and crossed easily enough. We went straight
over, intending to paddle down the shore till we
reached the place where the bricks were to be had,
about two miles below. Having nothing to hurry
us, and the day being uncommonly bright and beau-
tiful, we made no attempt to be quick, but drew
the canoe to the land, and sallied up the bank tj
get some ears of Indian corn which were growing
close by, and offered great attractions to our hungry
stomachs. At last, after loitering by the way for an
hour or two, we reached our destination, bought
the bricks, and paddled our canoe some distance up
a stream to get near them, that we might the more
easily get them on board ; but ignorance is a bad
teacher, even in so simple a matter as loading a
canoe with bricks. We had no thought but how to
pack them all in at once, so that we should not hav<o

»»«'••

1; JJ

■♦■:i

200 Henry and I nearly Browned.

to come over again, and kept stowing them in all the
way along the canoe, except at each end, where we
reserved a small space for ourselves. When the
whole had been shipped, we took our places — Henry
at the bows, on his knees ; I at the stern, on a seat
made of a bit of the lid of a flour-barrel — each of us
with his paddle. It was delightful to steer down
the glassy creek, and when we turned into the river
and skirted up close to the banks, it seemed as if we
were to get back as easily as we came, though Henry
just then bade me look over the side, telling me that
the canoe was only the length of a forefinger out of
the water, and, sure enough, I found it was so; but
we never thought it boded any danger. In smooth
water one is not apt to think of the rough that may
follow. "We got along charmingly for a time, under
the lee of the land, which made a bend out, some 1
distance above our house, on the American side ; we
determined to allow a good deal for the current, and
go to this point, before we turned to cross. Unfor-
tunately for us, in our ignorance of the proper
management of a canoe under difficulties, a greatl
steamer, passing on to Chicago, swept up the streamj
close to us, just as we were about to strike out ]
home, and the swell it raised made the water run|
along the edge of the canoe, as if it were looking
, over and wanted to get in. It lurched and twisted
got its head wrong, and all but filled, even with this
Blight agitation. We had got over this trouble whei

Henry and 1 nearly Lroioned. 291

ve found, to our alarm, on getting out from the
shelter of the land, that the wind was getting up,
freslily enough to make the mid-stream quite rough.
If we had known the extent of our danger we would
have turned back and unloaded some of our cargo,
but no such notion occurred to us. We therefore
determined to make the best of our way across ; but
it was easier determined than done. The wind and
the short chopping waves together very soon took
the management of our frail bark out of our hands,
twisting the canoe round and round, in spite of all
our efforts. Every kittle while we would get into
the trough of the stream, and the water would run
along from the bow to the stern, shining over the
few inches on which depended our hope and life ;
then, some would find its way in. The bricks got
quite wet. The empty space in which I sat was
filled to my ankles with water, and Henry shouted
that it was the same at his end. " Paddle hard,
George, for your life — paddle, paddle, and we may
over ;" and paddle both of us did, at the very
I top of our strength. "We must have been making
way swiftly, but owing to the noise of the wind, and
the confusion of mind we were in, for neither of us
could swim a stroke, we could not find out whether
we made any progress, and, to add to our bewilder-
ment, round went the head of the canoe the wrong
Iway once and again, in spite of us. " Shall I throw
[out the bricks, Henry ?" I cried. " Yes, if you can '

! I
,: I!

Hi s

I i..\

i'i

293 Henri/ falh III,

but it was next to impossible to do it. I did, indecc]
manage to toss two or three over, but I was helms-
man, and my giving up my paddle left us helplessly
whirling round. Henry had his back to the bricks
and of course could do nothing. He, therefore, kept
paddling as hard as ever. Seizing my paddle I
joined my efforts to his, and, after a time, found to

my great joy, that the water was changing colour

a sure sign that we were much nearer land than we
had been a little while before. A few minutes more
and we saw the bottom, and knew we were safe*
but not so the bricks. The canoe sank before reach- 1
ing the bank, immersing us to the middle, and
though we dragged it to the land, the bricks were)
in so bad a state that, from our neglecting to takel
special pains with them, a great many mouldered!
into red earth.

This was my only dangerous adventure with our
large coffin of a canoe, but many a hard pull I have
had with it. Poor Henry gave me one tough day'aj
work, much against his will. He had been working
in the field, and, being very warm, had drunk
large quantity of water, which brought on ver
painful cramps of the stomach. There were nona
but our two selves and the girls at home, and M
nearest place to procure medical advice was at M
village where I had got the bricks, across the riyerj
There was no time to be lost ; Henry was alarminglj
ill, so away I went with the canoe, paddling as hard

American Tilles, 203

as T could, and got to my destination pretty quickly.
But to get tlie "doctor" \\,i.s the difficulty. I found
"Major" Thompson, whom I knew by sight, stand-
ing ill his shirt-sleeves at the door of the coflfee-
liouse he kapt, and I asked him if he could tell me
where I should find the medical man. " Good
morning, doctor," said the " Major," in answer — I
ni no more a doctor than he a major, but tho
Americans are fond of assuming and bestowing titles
—"I don't know, p'raps he's to home — jist ask
Gin'ral Northrop, yonder, if he's seen him come out
morning ?" The gentleman to whom I was thus
I directed proved to be the leader of the choir in the
village chapel, and followed some trade, but what, I
Joa't know. He was dressed in a great broad straw
hat, blue shirt, hnen trowsers, and boots, and was
very busy loading a cart with furniture at a door up
Itlie street. He was very courteous when I got up to
lim. "I guess," said he, " you'll be all right ; I calcu-
late he's not about yec; just go down the street, and
turn round that there fence corner, and you'll easy
Ifind his place." Thither I went, and was fortunate
jenoiigh to find the old man, who, in spite of a
[dissipated and miserable look, seemed to know
kis profession. I could only suppose that he must
have been driven to such a place from pure necessity.
le gave me some stuff from a dispensary, as strange
lid uncouth as that of the apothecary in " Romeo
Dd Juliet:" —

* I

:ii

!■!

!!ri,;.|

294

BacJcwood Doctors,

" About his shelves
A beggarly account of empty boxes,
Green earthen pots, bladders and musty seeds.
Bemnants of packthread * * *
Were thinly scattered."

Into this sanctum I was taken by the back-door
and found it, in reality, more a lumber-room than a
shop, for the window made no sort of display, and
everywhere, dirt reigned in undisturbed possession.
Having got the medicine, I quickly regained the
canoe, and paddled home as rapidly as possible
But, instead of getting better, poor Henry seemed
rather to get worse, so that I had to set off a second
time, with a long account of the symptoms, on paper,
to hand to the doctor. This time, thank God, he hit
on the right prescription, and I had the unspeakable
pleasure of seeing the poor sufferer greatly relieved
by an infusion we got made for him when I returned.
I verily believe that if he had had no one to go over I
the river for him he must have died.
- The want of sufficient medical help, and too often I
the inferior quality of what you can get, is one
of the greatest evils of living in the backwoods.
Henry all but died a year or two after this, from tliej
treatment he had to undergo at the hands of a self-
styled doctor, who came to the neighbourhood for a I
time, and left it when his incompetency was found!
out. The illness was a very serious one— braini
fever — and the treatment resorted to was bleedinj;.
and depletion, till life nearly ebbed away from!

10 one to go over !

Bachwood Doctors, 295

6he<?r exhaustion. The poor fellow was made to take
medici i enough almost to kill a strong man ; and was
go evidently sinking, that the other inmates of the
house determined to send over for old Dr. Chamber-
lain, who had before saved him, when I went to him.
"Killed with too much medicine," was all he said,
wlien he had seen the wasted form of the patient, and
heard the story ; " if he should get through it, it
will be in spite of what has been done, not by its
means." He did get through, but it was a long,
weary struggle. I have known a person come
twenty miles in search of a medical man for hia
wife, and when he reached his house, be bitterly
disappointed to find the doctor off ten miles in an
opposite direction. Mr. Spring, up the river, had
good cause to remember his being at the mercy of an
uneducated practitioner. He was going in the dark,
one winter night, to a friend's house, about two
miles off, when suddenly slipping on a piece of ice,
he fell violently on his knee. Trying to rise, he
found he had injured the cap, so that he could not
walk. He had, therefore, to crawl back home again
in the keen cold of a Canadian night, along the road,
over tlie field, and down the steep bank, all covered
thickly with snow. The "doctor," who lived five
miles off, was, of course, sent for next morning
as early as possible. But it would, perhaps, have
been better if he had never been sent for at all, for
he bandaged the leg so tightly as almost to bring on

296

Backwood Doctors,

mortification ; and this he did, too, without attempt-
ing to bring the broken parts together. The result
was a hopelessly stiff leg, after the sufferer had
endured many weeks of pain.

We had occasional visits of gentlemen, who joined
the medical profession with other pursuits. They
would cure a fever, or act as dentists, and announced
their arrival by calls from house to house. A
friend of mine, who had unfortunately lost a front
tooth, though*- he had better take advantage of such
an opportunity, especially as he was going in a short
time up Lake Huron to a public dinner. " But,"
said he, when relating the circumstance, " the fellow
was a humbug ; he put in a hickory peg to hold the
new tooth, and when I was in the middle of my
dinner it turned straight out, and stuck before me,
like a tusk, till I got it tugged out."
' There was a medical man of a very different
stamp who came among us some years afler this,
when I had left the river, and of whom I have heard
some curious stories. Dr. White — let that be his
-had been in large practice in Ireland, but

name-

had unfortunately fallen into dissipated habits,
which compelled him to emigrate. To raise the
means of reaching Canada, his wife had sold an
annuity she enjoyed on her own life, after his
engaging that he would give up his intemperate
habits. He first settled in one of the towns, but
aflerwards came to our part, and bought a farm,

Backwood Doctors.

297

intending to help his income by working it. His
old habit, however, to the regret of all, broke out
again, and destroyed his prospects, in spite of his
being looked up to throughout the district, as the
best "doctor" in it. People often came from a
distance to consult him, and were doomed to find
him helpless ; and this, of course, speedily ruined his
practice. Instances of his skill, however, still linger
in the minds of many in the settlement, accompanied
with great regret, that a man at once so clever and
comely should have been so great an enemy to
liimself He had a rough humour sometimes, when
he was a little under the influence of drink, which
was very diverting. Henry was one night at his
house iu the winter, when a rap came to the door.
The others being busy, Henry rose to open it, and
found two men, who had come through the frightful
cold to get the doctor's assistance. The one, it
appeared, could not speak, from some abscess or boil
in his throat, which he had come to get lanced or
otherwise treated. On being taken into the hall,
which had a stove in it, and was comfortable
enough, the doctor made his appearance, and walked
up to the sufferer with a candle in his hand.
"Wliat's the matter with you?" The patient
simply opened his mouth wide, and pointed
into it with his fingers. "Let me see," said
White. "Open your mouth, sir" — taking the
candle out of the candlestick, and holding it close to

;

!:'■■

•I:

298

Backwood Doctors,

the poor fellow's face. The mouth was, of course
instantly opened as widely as possible, and the
blazing candle was as instantly sent dash into it, as far
as it would go, raising a yell from the patient that
might have been heard over the next farm^wliich was
followed by a rush outside the door to clear his mouth
as he seemed half choked. " Bring a light here "
cried Wliite, coming to the door quite coolly.
" How do you feel, sir ?" The blow with the soft
candle, the fright, and the yell, all together, had
wrought a miracle on the poor fellow. His trouble
was clean gone. " I'm better, sir — what's to pay ?"
"Nothing at all," replied White; "good night to
you," and the scene was over. Henry laughed, as
he well might, at such an incident ; and after a while
ventured to ask the doctor if there were no instru-
ments that would have done ? " Certainly there are,
but do you think I'd dirty my instruments on a
fellow like that ? the candle would do well enough."
Poor White died some time after, through intem-
perance. His widow and family were enabled to get
back to Ireland by the sale of all the effects he had;
and on their arrival, his friends took charge of the
children, and the widow went out as a governess to
India.

m ' • •

299

CHAPTER XVIII.

American men and women — Fireflies — Profusion of insect
life — Grasshoppers — Frederick and David leave Canada —
Soap-making — Homemade candles — Eecipe for washing
quickly — Writing letters — The parson for driver.

As the delicious nights of summer drew on again, it
was a pleasure of which we never wearied to ride over
to some neighbour's to spend an hour or two. The
visit itself was always delightful, for we could not
have wished better society, but the unspeakable
loveliness of the road was no less so. We very soon
got a couple of horses, everyone else having them,
for no one in Canada ever thinks of walking if he
can help it. I have often wondered at this, for the
same persons who would not stir a step, if possible,
in Canada, without a horse, or some conveyance,
would have been fond of walking if they had re-
mained in Britain. It cannot be because they have
horses in the one country and had none in the other,
for, in towns, there is no such liking for walking,
though there are fev," who either own or can borrow
a horse or vehicle, and those in the country who have
neither will send in all directions to ask the loan of
a neighbour's horse rather than walk a few miles.
Probably the great heat of summer renders the exer-

III

iiiii

if ■■

300

American Men and Women,

tion of walking irksome to most people ; and, on the
other hand, in winter, the cold and the snoAv are such
hindrances as to throw them out of the habit of it.
There seems no doubt besides, that the effect of the
climate on Europeans is to enfeeble them gradually
though they may not exhibit any symptoms of rapid
decay, or suffer from any acute disease. The red
cheeks of the inhabitants of Britain are very soon
lost in Canada, and you very seldom see the stout,
hearty people so common in England. The native
Canadian of the Western Province is a very poor
specimen of a man, unless he be the child of foreign
Darents. A few generations takes all the roundness
from his figure, and brings him very much to the
type o^ the Indian, as in the case of the New Eng-
landers, who, though originally English, are now
little better in appearance than White Indians. In-
deed, the Indians themselves show the effects of the
climate as much as Europeans, for what can be more
opposite than the squat, fat figure of a Tartar, and
the thin, tall outline of his descendant, when changed
into one of the red tribes of North America. I used
to be amused watching the steamers which came to
the wharves on the river to get wood, crowded with
emigrants from the New England States to the
Far West. The men, '■" at all beyond youth,
were fleshless, long-necked, calfless, cadaverous-
looking creatures ; the women, in their coal-scuttle
Bun-bonnets, with a long green veil hanging down

American Men and Women,

301

their backs, and straight dresses tied loosely round
the waist, looked, for the most part, very strange
apparitions to one accustomed to the women of
England. The girls of America are often very
pretty, but they soon lose their plumpness, and grow
old. Mr. Brown, up the river one day, amused mo
by telling how he had heard a servant- woman who
was in fierce dispute with a comrade, declare that
she was no better than three broomsticks tied to-
gether. She was pretty nearly right as to the
appearance of not a few — the three broomsticks,
dressed up, would look almost as stout. It is the
same with animals as with human beings. A horse
or a bull, brought from Britain, loses its spirit in
Canada. Little or no trouble is needed to break
in a colt, for if he be put in a waggon he will
very soon pull as steadily as any other. A
Canadian bull is a very quiet and inoffensive
creature. Everything, in fact, seems alike to de-
generate in form and spirit from its native English
characteristics.

But I am forgetting my rides on the old mare,
Kate, in the summer evenings. I was walking her
slowly up the road one night, when I was struck by
innumerable flashes of light among the trees in the
forest at my side. I tried every theory I could think
of to account for it, some of them ridiculous enough,
but it was not till I came home that I hit on the
right one, which I might have been sure of at first.

l^*ai«ti

?*—■ 4iiili|
* liiiiii

302 Fireflies.

The phenomenon in question was nothing but an
immense number of fireflies sporting among the
branches, and their motion made them seem aa if
every leaf were a Ley den jar giving off a succession
of electric sparks. I had often seen them before but
never in such amazing swarms. They must have
been holding some grand carnival, some firefly's ball
with endless dancing and wonderful illumination.
The insects that make this brilliant display are a kind
of beetle, about three-quarters of an inch in length.
They give out their light fi-om different parts of
their bodies, but chiefly from the lower half, and
are often ctvUght and kept for a time in bottles as
a curiosity. In other countries they are said to have
been put to various uses, but I never heard of their
being so employed in Canada. The Caribs of St.
Domingo, a race of Indians whose memory is now
passing away, were formerly accustomed to use them
as living lamps in their evening household occupa-
tions, just as we use candles. In travelling at night
they fastened them to their feet, and in fishing or
hunting in the dark they made them serve as lights
to guide them. Moreover, as the fireflies destroy
ants, they gave them the freest entry to their
wigwams to help to rid them of these pests.
Southey, in his poem of "Madoc," tells us that
it was by the light of this insect Coatel rescued
the British hero fi:om the hands of the Mexican
priests:

!!:liaiJl!ii

thing but an
g among the
m seem as if
r a succession
em before, but
,ey must have
le firefly's ball,
1 illumination,
gplay are a kind
inch in length,
fferent parts of
lower half, and
ae in bottles as
' are said to have
r heard of their
le Caribs of St.
memory is now
med to use them
lusehold occupa-
avelling at night
nd in fishing or
, serve as lights
fireflies destroy
entry to their
of these pests.
.," tells us that
-t Coatel rescued
of the Mexican

Profusion of Insect Life, 303

"She beckoned and descended, and drew out
From underneath her vest a cage, or net
It rather might be called, so fine the twigs '
That knit it — where, confined, two fireflies gave
Their lustre. By that light did Madoc first
Behold the features of his lovely guide."

I am afraid he would have remained ignorant of
her loveliness, if the discovery had depended on the
light of Canadian fireflies, which are very beautiful,
indeed, in their momentary brightness, but are far
too dim for anything more. I have often been re-
minded, as I have seen one, here and there, kindling
his little spark for an instant, and sailing in light, for
a brief glimpse, across the night, of the fine figure in
which Coleridge compares the illumination afforded
by philosophy, in the ages before Christ, to the ra-
diance with which " the lanthorn-fly of the tropics"
lights up, for a moment, the natural darkness. It
is equally beautiful and apt.

It is wonderful to see what a profusion of insect
life sometimes shows itself in the summer-time in
Canada. I was once sailing down the Niagara
River to Chippewa, which is the last port above the
Falls, in the month of September, when, all at once,
the steamer entered a dense snowy cloud of white
gnats, so blinding, from the countless numbers, that
all on deck had either to get below, or turn their
backs, or stand behind some protection. You could
see the land through them only as you would have
seen it through a snow-storm, and this continued

304 Profusion of Insect Life,

till we reached our destination — a distance of several
miles. How many millions of millions of these frail
creatures must there have been? There is an-
other fly that I have also seen in vast numbers

the May-fly, which, however, makes its appearance
not in May generally, but in June. But it is so dis-
agreeable-looking, that my only desire on beholding
it has been to get out of its way. Butterflies are
sometimes met with in similar clouds. I have seen
large numbers of them in '^^he air, or resting on the
earth ; but Sir James Enicr^on Tennent tells us thai,
in Ceylon, they sometimes fly past in flocks appa-
rently miles in breadth, and in an unbroken stream,
for hours and even days together.* What a vast
amount of life there must be over the world, at
any one time, vvhen such an amazing fulness of it is
met at even a single point ! Canada has, indeed, too
much cause to feel this, as regards the insect tribes,
for, of late years, it has been visited by such sue- 1
cessions of pests as oflen to injure its harvests to aj
great extent. The "army-worm," as it is called, the
weevil, the wireworm, the midge, and the locust, or
as the Canadians call it, the grasshopper, have each
invaded districts, which, on their appearance, were
rich with the promise of abundant crops, but were
left waste and ruined when they had passed over it.
The grasshopper is the most easily noticed of these
plagues, as its size and its curious noise in flying,
and the way it strikes against your clothes, and in-
♦ Sir J. E. Tennent's "Ceylon," i. 247.

Grasshoppers, 805

fltantly fastens on them, are sure to draw attention.
They seem to be a new arrival in Canada, having
apparently travelled thither gradually from the vast
prairies of the Far West. At the Red River they are
met with in legions that enable one to realize what a
curse the locusts must have been to the Egyptians
of old. As soon as the dew is off the grass in the
mornings they take short flights, as if to prepare for
the day's work, and about nine o'clock, rise in cloud
after cloud and fly off. About noon the numbers
seem greatest. The light is then palpably obscured
—there is an unearthly ashen light over everything —
the air is filled as if with flakes of snow, sometimes
to nearly a thousand feet in height, and changes from
blue to silver-grey, or to ash or lead colour, as the
clouds grow deeper or diminish, a quivering motion
filling it, as the light strikes on the myriads of
moving wings. A sound, indescribable, but over-
powering, from the thought of its source, comes down
from the vast hosts, filling the mind with a £|§nse of awe
and amazement. Such flights have hitherto been seen
and heard only outside the settled parts of Canada,
j but, in every part of it there are multitudes. I have
I seen them in countless thousands in the fields and on
the roads, and have oflen caught them to look at the
wonderful beauty of their limbs, which are finished
&r more elaborately than the finest ornament, and
are suited to the habits and wants of the creature in
the most admirable manner.

li!!

i^inm,

806 Frederick and David leave Canada.

The summer of the second year saw w diminution
of our family circle by the departure of Frederick
and David to the United States, to jjuhIi their fortunes
there. They did not like farming, and were attracted
by the population and wealth of the States, uh com-
pared with Canada. It was a Siid time with ua who
remained, when they left us. In those days a great
many young men left the province, from the diifi-
culty of finding suitable employment in it. Where
nearly all were farmers, and money was very scarce,
and the towns mere villages, there was, of courst,
very little to do, and it was not to be wondered at
that young men did not relisii the thought of spend-
ing their lives as day-labourers on a piece of ground,
with no better remuneration for hard work than the
food they ate and the rough clothing they wore.
Anything more was not, in those days, to be hoped
for. Since then, indeed, there has been a great
change. The first race of settlers have made their
farms valuable by many years' hard work and careful
culture, and fine brick houses have taken the pl-T^e
of the shanties and log-houses which served at first.
Some years of high prices made them all think their I
fortunes sure at once, and every one got his gig andi
his piano, and the girls went to boarding-schools,!
and the young men idled and flaunted round in fine!
clothes. If fewer leave Canada for the States now,!
it is not because they are any fonder than everj
of hard work. Even where their father's farma

Hard Struggles, 807

would pay for hiring men to work them, thoy like
to be gentlomon, and flock in crowds to turn doctors
or ^ iwyers in as easy a way as possible. It is won-
derful how many there are of both these professions,
and how many more hurry on to enter them. But
there were no sucli openings in the early days of
our settlement, and my brothers must either have
plodded on driving oxen and hoeing, ploughing,
harrowing, and the like, or have left for the great
country across the river. They did not find life
very sunny, however, even in the States, and both
had hard struggles at first to get on. Poor Frederick,
indeed, never got very far up in the world, a fever
cutting him off some years after, when he was on a
journey in the South. He died without a creature
he knew near him, and indeed we did not know that
he was gone till nearly a year after. David gradually
made his way, and has long been comfortably settled
in a rising town in one of the Western States ; but
his advancement rose from his having had the good
fortune to buy some land where a town grew up
shortly after, which enabled him to make a good deal
of money. Our household, when they had left us, was
very quiet compared with the past— only Robert,
Henry, and I remaining, with my two sisters as the
mistresses of the mansion.

What a curious iiobinson-Crusoe life we led in
ffiany ways in those first years. A barrel raised on
a. stand, the bottom full of holes, and covered with a

X 2

808 Soap-makinff,

layer of straw, and a number of channels gouged out
in the board on which it rested, formed the primitive
machine for our soap-making. AU the ashes from
the fires were thrown into the barrel, and, when it
was full, a quantity of water poured into it made the
alkaline ley that was needed, a pail at the edge of
the board below catching it as it drained oif. In
summer time it was enough merely to throw this ley
into another barrel, put in the fat left from our
daily table, and stir the mixture together now and
then, and the sun made soap of it, without any
further trouble on our part. In colder weather it
had to be put on the fire until the desired transmu-
tation had been effected. The ley looked so very
like strong tea that I was often afraid of some
accident, where any of it had been left in a cup
or bowl. To drink it would have been certain
and awful death, as we did not then know how
to neutralize the effect if we had taken it. Noah
Nash, a young lad in the neighbourhood, was all but
fatally poisoned by it one day ; indeed, nothing saved
him but his presence of mind, and the fact that he
had an acid in the house. Chancing to come in
very much heated, and seeing a cupful of nice
strong-looking tea in the window, he swallowed
nearly the whole of it before he had time to think
that, instead of tea, it was the terrible alkaU that
had been drawn from the ashes. The serious con-
sequences of his mistake fiashed on him in an instant.

Home-made Candles.

309

l9 gouged out
the primitive
16 ashes from
and, when it
to it made the
it the edge of
ained off. In
throw this ley
left from our
;ether now and
b, without any
Ider weather it
esired transmu-
looked so very
afraid of some
1 left in a cup
ve been certain
then know how
taken it. Noali
lood, was all but
ed, nothing saved
the fact that lie
ling to come in
cupful of nice
r he swallowed
ad time to think
rrible alkah that
The serious con-
Lmin an instant.

Snatching a tumbler, he rushed to the cellar, where,
providentially, there happened to be a barrel of
vinegar, and in a moment filled the glass, and drank
down successive draughts of it, and was thus saved,
the acid effectually neutralizing the alkali in the
stomach ; but, quick as he had been, his mouth and
throat were burned to such a degree by the potash,
that the skin of the mouth peeled away, day after
day, in strips, and he had to be fed on the simplest
preparations long afterwards. - Our candles were a
branch of home manufacture in which we rather ex-
celled after a time, though, to tell the truth, the
quantity used was not very great. "We had bought
candle-moulds of tin, and put aside any fat suitable
for candles, till we had enough to make what would fill
them; and then, what threading the wicks into the
moulds at one end, and tying them over little pieces
of wood at the other — what proud encomiums over
one that kept fair in the middle — what a laugh at
auother which had in some eccentric way run down
one side of the tallow, leaving the whole round
of the candle undisturbed by any intrusion of the
cotton. But we would not have made the fortune
of any tallow-chandler had we had to buy all we
burned, for we only lighted one at tea, or for a
nimute or two on going to bed, or to enable some
I one to read, when a craving for literary food set in.
Lumps of pine, full of resin, were our more cus-
tomary style of illumination, its flaming brightness.

310

Rude Accommodation,

leaping and flaring though it was, sufficing for our
ordinary requirements. "We used to sit for hours
round the fire, talking and dozing ; to read was a
huge effort, after hard work all day, and it was too
cold, while the fire was kept up, to sit at any dis-
tance from it. In some houses I have known candles
kept as sacredly for doing honour to a stranger as if
they had been made of silver. A rag in some grease,
in a saucer, usually served for a lamp, and an inch
or two of candle was only brought out when a guest
was about to retire. Many a time I have known
even visitors, in the rough bush, sent to bed in the
dark. "We were, however, in some things, wonder-
fully before the people settled back from the river.
Most of them were content to put up with the very
rudest accommodation and conveniences ; one room,
containing several beds, oflen holding not only a whole
household, but any passing stranger. How to get
out and in, unseen, was the great difficulty. I have
often been in trouble about it myself, but it must
surely have been worse for the young women of the
family. As to any basin or ewer in the room, they
were Capuan luxuries in the wild bush. " Til thank
you for a basin, Mrs. Smith," said I, one morning,
anxious to make myself comfortable for the day,
after having enjoyed her husband's hospitality over-
night. It was gloriously bright outside, though the j
sun had not yet shown himself over the trees.
" Come this way, Mr. Stanley ; I'll give it you I

Writing Letters. 311

here," said Mrs. Smith. Out she went, and lifted a
small round tin pie-dish, that would hold hardly a
quart, poured some water into it from the pail at the
door, which held the breakfast water as well, and set
it on the top of a stump, close at hand, with the in-
junction to " make haste, for there was a hole in the
bottom, and if! didi "' be quick the water would all
begone." Luck I) , I was all ready; but there was
no oiFer of soap, and so I had to make my hands fly
liither and thither at a great rate, and finish as best
I could by a hard rubbing with a canvas toyvel.

To write a letter in those days was by no means
a light task. Ink was a rare commodity, and
stood a great deal of water before it was done.
Wlien we had none, a piece of Indian- ink served
pretty well ; and when that was lost, we used to mix
gunpowder and vinegar together, and make a kind
of faintly-visible pigment out of the two. The only
paper we could get was dreadful. How cruelly the
pen used to dab through it ! How invincibly shabby
a letter looked on it ! The post-office was in a store
kept by a French Canadian, and was limited enough

m its arrangements.

I remember taking a letter one

day a little later than was right, as it appeared.
"The mail's made up, Mr. Stanley," said the post-
master, " and it's against the law to open it when it's
once sealed ; b;it I suppose I may as well oblige a
friend." So saying, he took down a piece of brown
paper from the shelf behind him, cut round some

:il

312 New Occupations.

seals which were on the back of it, and exposed the
" mail ;" which, forsooth, I found consisted of a
single letter ! Mine was presently laid peacefully at
the side of this earlier sharer of postal honour, and
I hope did not make the bundle too heavy for the
mail-boy's saddle-bags.

It used to amuse us to see how readily every one
round us took to new occupations, if anything
hindered his continuing the one in which he had pre-
viously been engaged. You would hear of a tailor
turning freshwater sailor, and buying a flat-bottomet'
scow, to take goods from one part of the river to
another; one shoemaker turned miller, and another
took to making and selling " lumber." A young lad,
the son of a minister, who wished to get a good
education, first hired himself out to chop cord- wood,
and when he had made enough to buy books, and
keep a reserve on hand, he engaged with a minister
over the river, who had an " academy," to give him
tuition, v\ return for having his horse cleaned, and
the house-wood split. Working thus, he gained
Latin and Greek enough to go to college ; but had to
return to his axe, and work for another winter, to get
money to pay the expenses of the first session. This
obtained, off he set, and ended by taking the degree
of M. A. at Yale College, Connecticut. In the mean-
time, however, a change had passed over his mind as
to becoming a clergyman ; and instead of seeking a
church, he went into partnership with his brother in

The T anon for Driver, 813

the patent medicine trade, in -which calling, I sup-
pose, he is now engaged in one of the United States'
cities.

I was once travelling on a winter night, in a public
stage, on the edge of Lake Ontario. The vehicle
was a high waggon, with a linen cover stretched
over a round framework, like a gipsy tent. I was
the only passenger, and had taken my place in the
body of the machine. This did not suit the driver,
however, who seemed to feel lonely; and, after a
time, turning round to me, said — " I guess we'd be
better together this cold night. Come this way — wont
you?" Of course, I instantly complied; and then
received, among much various information on matters
interesting to coach-drivers, a narrative of his own
life, a portion of which I still remember : —

" I'm a reg'lar preacher, you see," said he. " I
was on the circuit round Framley for one turn, and
they promised pretty fair, but I didn't get enough to
keep house on. Then I got changed to Dover
circuit, and that was worse. Says I to my wife —
' Wife,' says I, ' preachin' wont keep our pot bilin',
anyhow — I must scare up somethin' else, somehow.'
So I heard that there was a new stage to be put on
at Brownsville ; and I went to Squire Brown, and
told him that, if he liked, I'd drive it ; and so, here
I am — for, you see, the mail-stage has to go, even if
a parson should have to drive it ;" and he ended with
a broad grin and a long laugh — ha — ha — ha !

314

^M**''*>^

CHAPTER XIX.

Americanisms — Our poultry — The wasps — Their nests—
"Bob's" skill in killing them — Racoons — A hunt —
Racoon cake — The town of Busaco — Summer " sailing"—
Boy drowned — French settlers.

We were struck, as ev<^ry new comer is, by the new
meanings put by Canadians on words, the new con-
nexions in which they used them, and the extraor-
dinary way in which some were pronounced. Of
course, we heard people " guessing" at every turn
and Avhatever any one intended doing, he spoke of as
"fixing." You would hear a man say, that his
waggon, or his chimney, or his gun, must be " fixed;"
a girl would be ready to take a walk with you, as
soon as she had "fixed herself." and the baby was
always " fixed" in the morning, when washed and
dressed for the day. " Catherine," said a husband one
day to his wife, in my hearing, pronouncing the last
syllable of her name, so as to rhyme with line, " I
calculate that them apples 'ill want regulatin'," re-
ferring to some that' were drying in the sun. They
" reckon" at every third sentence. A well-informed
man is said to be " well posted up" in some par-
ticular subject. Instead of "what," they very com-
monly say " how," in asking questions. A pony

Americanisfns, 315

^as praised to me as being " as fat as mud." In
place of our exclamations of surprise at the commu-
nication of any new fact, the listener will exclaim,
«I want to know." Any log, or trunk of a tree, or
other single piece of timber, is invariably a " stick."
even if it be long enough for a mast. All the stock
of a timber-yard is alike "lumber." An ewer is
"a pitcher;" a tin-pail is "a kettle;" a servant is
"a help;" an employer is "a boss;" a church pew
is "a slip;" a platform at a meeting is "a stage;"
children are "juveniles;" and a baby is "a babe."
In pronouncing the words engine, or ride, or point,
or any other word with vowels prominent in it, if
you would imitate a Canadian, you would need to
open your mouth very wide, and make as much of
each sound as you can. Of course, I speak only of
the country folks, native born ; the town people, and
the educated classes, generally speak as correctly as
the same classes in England. We cannot help
noticing, moreover, that all these corruptions are
trifling compared with those which we find in the
popular dialects of diiferent parts of our own
country. You can travel all through Canada and
understand everything you hear, except a word now
and then; but at home, to pass from one shire
to another is often like passing to a different
people, so far as regards the language. The
great amount of travelling now-a-days compared
with the fixed life of our forefathers, may serve to

816 Our Poultry.

account for this. People of%verj nation meet in
Canada, and all come to speak very nearly alike
because they move about so much; but the various
races that settled in England or Scotland ages ago
kept together closely, and consequently each learned
to speak in a way of its own.

Our poultry increased very soon after our com-
mencing on the river, until it became quite a flock-
but we had a good deal of trouble with them. The
weasels were very destructive to the chickens, and
so were the hen-hawks and chicken-hawks, which
were always prowling round. But the hens managed
to beat off the last of these enemies, and a terrible
noise they made in doing so. The whole barn-yard
population used to give Robert great annoyance, by
flying over the fence he had put up round a piece
of ground set apart as a garden ; but he succeeded in
terrifying them at last, by rushing out with a long
whip whenever they made their appearance. The
very sight of him was enough, after a time, to send
them off with outstretched wings and necks, and the
most amazing screeches and cackling ; it was laugh-
able to see their consternation and precipitate flight.
Our turkeys were a nuisance as well as a comfort to
us : they were much given to wandering, and so
stupid withal, that if they once got into the woods
we rarely saw them again. The only plan was to
have their wings cut close, and to keep them shut
up in the barn-yard. In compensation for this

Large Quantities of Eggs, 817

trouble, however, we took ample revenge both on
them and the co-ks and hens, alike in person and in
the harvest of eggs, which formed a main element
in most of our dishes. "We needed all we could
get. As to eggs, it seemed as if any quantity '
would have been consumed. There was to be a
" bee" one time, to raise a second barn ; and my
Bisters were in great concern because they could not
find out where the hens were laying. At last, they
saw one go down a hole in the barn floor, and
instantly concluded they had discovered the secret
hoard. A plank was forthwith lifted, and there,
sure enough, were no less than twenty dozen of eggs
lying in one part or other. It was hard work to get
them out, but Henry and I helped, and we brought
them all to the house. In a week or ten days there
were not two dozen left. The men who had attended
the " bee," and one or two whom we kept on at
wages, had devoured them all in cakes and puddings,
or in the ordinary way. But what would these bush-
fellows not get down ? One day, we had a labourer
with us, and Eliza, to please him, set out a large

dish of preserves, holding, certainly, a pound
weight at the least. She thought, of course, he would

a little to his bread; but his notions on the
)ject were very different, for, drawing the dish

I to him, and taking up a tablespoon, he supped
down the whole in a succession of huge mouthftds.

I I have known a hired man eat a dozen of eggs at his
1

''i:\m

818 Wasps.

The wasps were very numerous round the liouae
in summer. A nest of these creatures ensconced
themselves in a hole between two logs, in the front
part of it, and, as they never troubled us, we did
not trouble them. But not so our little terrier, Bob.
The mouth of the nest was about a yard from the
ground, and admitted only one at a time. Below
this, Bob would take his seat for hours together
watching each arrival ; sometimes letting them go in
peaceably, but every now and then jumping up at
them, with his lips drawn back, and giving a snap
which seldom failed to kill them. The little fellow
seemed to have quite a passion for wasp-hunting.
The dead proofs of his suv^^oss would often lie thick
over the ground by evening. How the colony ever
bore up against his attacks I cannot imagine. One day
we saw John Robinson, a labourer, whom we had
engaged, rushing down in hot haste from the top of ,
the field, flinging his arms about in every direction,
and making the most extraordinary bobbing and
fighting, apparently at nothing. But, as he got near,
he roared out, " I've tumbled a wasp's-nest, and
they're after me," and this was aU we could get out
of him for some time. Indeed they followed him
quite a distance. He had been lifting a log that was
imbedded in the ground, when, behold ! out ruehed
a whole townfiil, sending him off at once in igno-
minious flight. I used to think the nests of the
wasps, which we sometimes found hanging from

Racoons,

319

branches in the woods, most wonderful specimens of
insect manufacture. They were oval in form, with
the mouth at the bottom, and looked often not un-
like a clumsily made boy's top. But of what
material do you think they were constructed ? Of
paper — real true paper, of a greyish colour, made by
the wasps gnawing off very small pieces of decayed
wood, which they bruise and work up till it changes
its character, and becomes as much paper as any
we can make ourselves. It is wonderful that men
should not have found out, from such a lesson, the
art of making this most precious production much
sooner than they did.

The racoons, usually called 'coons, were a great
nuisance when the com was getting ripe. They
came out of the woods at night, and did a great deal
of mischief in a very short time. We used to hunt
them by torchlight, the torches being strips of
hickory bark, or lumps of fat pine. We could have
done nothing, however, without the help of our
dogs, who tracked them to the trees in which they
had taken refuge, and then we shot them by the
help of the lights, amidst prodigious excitement
and commotion. It was very dangerous to catch
hold of one of them if it fell wounded. They
could twist their heads so far round, and their skin
was so loose, that you were never sure you would
not get a bite in whatever way you held them. The
Weirs, close to us, got skins enough one autumn to

820

A Racoon Hunt.

mmm

make fine robes for their sleigh. I never knew 'out
one man who had eaten racoon, and he was no wiser
than he needed to bo. He was a farm-labourer, who
stammered in his speech, and lived all alone, and was
deplorably ignorant. Meeting him one day after a
hunt, in which he had got a large racoon for his
share, he stopped me to speak of it thus — ' Ggre-e-at

rac-c-coon that — there was a p-pint of oil in him

it m-made a-a m-most beautiful shortcake!" 1
wished him joy of his taste.

I remember one racoon hunt which formed a su,)-
ject of conversation for long after. Mr. Weir's field
of Indian corn had been sadly injured, and our o-rn
was not much better, so we resolved on destroying
some of the marauders if possible. All the young
fellows for miles up and down the river, gathered in
the afternoon, to get a long talk beforehand, and to
make every preparation. Some of us saw to the
torches — that there were plenty of them, and that
they were of the right kind of wood ; others looked
to the guns, to have them properly cleaned, and the
ammimition ready. " I say, Ned Thompson," said
one, " I hope you wont be making such a noise as
you did last time, frightening the very dogs." But
the speaker was only told in return, to keep out of
the way of everybody else, and not run the risk of
being taken for a 'coon himself as he went creeping
along. In due time all work was over for the night
on our fiirm, the dogs collected, a hearty supper en-

A Racoon Hunt,

821

joyed, amidst the ])oa8ts of Romo and tho jokes of
others, and off we set. The moon was very young,
butitliungin the clear heavens like a sih"- bow.
A short walk brought us to the forest, and here we
spread ourselves, so as to take a larger sweep, in-
tending that tho two wings should gradually draw
round and make part of a circle. We could see the
crescent of the moon, every now and then, through
the fretted roof of branches, but it would have been
very dark on the surface of tho ground had not the
torches lent us their brightness. As it was, many
a stumble checked our steps. It was rough work —
over logs, into wet spots, round trees, through brush,
with countless stubs and pieces of Avood to keep you
iu mind that you must lift your ieet well, like the
Indians, if you did not wish to be tripped up. The
light gleaming through the great trees on the wilu
picture of men and dogs, now glaring in the red
flame of the torches, now hidden by the smoke,
was very exciting. The dogs had not, as yet,
scented anything, but they gradually got ahead of us.
Presently we heard the lirst baying and barking.
We forthwith made for the spot, creeping up as
silently as possible, while the dogs kept the distracted
racoon from making its escape. How to get a glimpse
of it was the trouble. " There's nothing there that
I can see," whispered Brown to me ; but the dogs
showed that they thought differently, by the way
they tore and scratched at the bottom of the tree.

I !

m ijMTsu

*HMIt|

'-Hilary

m*^*''^

322 TAe Town of Busaco,

What with the leaves, the feebleness of the moon-
light, and our distance from the object, every eye was
strained, for a time, without seeing a sign of any-
thing living. At last, Henry motioned that he saw
it, and sure enough there it was, its shape visible far
up on a branch. Another moment and the sharp
crack of his rifle heralded its death and descent
to the ground. We had good success after this first
lucky, shot, which had been only one of many fired
at what seemed to be the racoon, but had been only
a, knot in the tree, or, perhaps, a shadow. We did
not come home tiU late, when, with dogs almost as
tired as ourselves, the whole party re-assembled,
each bearing off his spoils with him if he had won
any.. ,- " , : .-i . - ^ : > .,
i. I was walking up the road one afternoon with my
brother, when we came to an opening on the right
hand, apparently only leading into pathless woods.
Stopping me, however, Henry turned and asked, "If
I saw yon post stuck up in the little open?" It
was some time before I could make it out. At last
I noticed what he alluded to — simply a rough
post, six feet high, stuck into the ground, in the
middle of unbroken desolation. "That's the centre
of the market-place in the town of Busaco, that is to
be," said he. "AU this ground is surveyed for a
city, and is laid out in building lots, — not in farms.
I could not help laughing. There was not a sign of
human habitation in sight, and the post must hare

flSHP

s of the moon-
ct, every eye waa

a sign of any-
)ned that he saw

shape visible far
t and the sharp
lath and descent
iss after this first
me of many fired
mt had been only
shadow. We did
h dogs almost as
irty re-assembled,
im if he had won

afternoon with my
ming on the right
Lto pathless woods.
led and asked, "If!
, little open?" It!
se it out. At last
— simply a rough |
the ground, in the
"That's the centre
Df Busaco, thatisto
I is surveyed for a I
3ts, — not in farms."
:e was not a sign ofl
;he post must have

l^iil

A. liacoon Hunt in the Bush.

P. 331.

The Town of Busaco, 823

been there for years. Wlien it will be a town it is
very hard to conjecture. It stands on the outside of
a swampy belt, which must have deterred anyone
from settling in it, and towns don't go before agricul-
tural improvement, but follow it, in such a country
as Canada, or, indeed, anywhere, except in a merely
manufacturing district, or at some point on a busy
line of travel. Some time after, a poor man eiFected
one great step towards its settlement, by a very unin-
tentional improvement. He had a little money, and
thought that if he dug a deep, broad ditch, from the
swamp to the river, he could get enough water to
drive a mill, which he intended to build close to
tlie bank. But it turned out, after the ditch was
dug, and his money gone, that the water, which he
thought came into the swamp from springs, was
nothing but rain, that had lodged in the low places,
and had been ke2)t there by the roots of trees and
the want of drainage. For a time, the stream was
beautiful, but, after a little, the swamp got better,
and the stream diminished, until, in a few weeks,
the channel was dry, and the swamp became good
land. I hope the poor fellow had bought it before
commencing his ditch. If so, he would make money
after aU, as his improvement raised its value im-
mensely.

A number of the young men of the humbler class
along the river used to go away each summer
I "sailing" — that is, they hired as sailors on the

824 Summer " Sailing.*'

American vessels, which traded in whole ileets be-
tween the eastern and western towns on the great
lakes. It was a very good thing for them that they
could earn money so easily, but the employment was
not always free from danger. One lad, whoin I
knew very well — William Forth, the son of a decent
Scotch tailor — was lost in it in the autumn of oiir
second year. He had sailed for Lake Superior, and
did not return at the time expected. Then his
friends began to be anxious, especially when tliey
heard the news of a great storm in the north-Tvest.
He was never heard of again, and no doubt perished
with all the crew, his vessel having foundered in the
gale. Years after, it was reported that a schooner,
sailing along the upper coast of Lake Huron, came
upon the wreck of a small ship, down in the clear
waters, and foimd means of hooking up enough to
show that it was the one in which our poor neigh-
bour's son had been engaged. Curiously and sadlj
enough, a second son of the same parents met a
miserable death some years after. He was attending
a threshing-mill, driven by horses, and had for his
part to thrust in the straw to "feed it;" but he,
unfortunately, thrust it in too far, and was himself |
drawn in, and crushed between the innumerable j
teeth by which the grain is pressed out. Before tbe
machine could be stopped, poor James was cut almost
to pieces. Thus even the peaceful St. Clair had its |
share in the trials that follow man under all skies.

A Boy Drowned, 325

Occasionally, accidents and calamities of this kind
would happen close to us, and I could not but be
struck at the depth of feeling to which they gave rise
amidst a thin population. The tenant on the only
let farm in the neighbourhood, who lived a mile
from us, lost a beautiful boy in a most distressing
Tvay. There was a wood wharf close to his house,
from the end of which the lads used to bathe on fine
siinuner evenings. A number of them were amusing
themselves thus, one afternoon, when Mrs. Gilbert,
the wife of the person of whom I speak, coming out
from 'her work, chanced to look at them, and saw
one who was diving and swimming, as she thought,
very strangely. A little after, they brought her
the news that her boy was drowned, and it turned
out that it had been his struggles at which she
had been looking with such unconcern. The poor
V'oman took to her bed for weeka directly she found
it out, and seemed broken-hearted ever after. , ;

The number of French in our neighbourhood, and
the names of the towns and places on the map, all
along the western lakes and rivers, often struck me.
Beginning with Nova Scotia, we trace them the
whole way — proofs of the sway France once had in
Xorth America. The bays and headlands, from the
Atlantic to the Far West, bear French names. For
instance. Cape Breton, and its capital, Louisburg,
and Maine, and Vermont, in the States. All Lower
Canada was French; then we have Detroit on Lake

32(

An Indian Device.

St. Clair; Sault Ste. Marie at Lake Superior; besides
a string of old French names all down the Missis-
sippi, at the mouth of which was the whilom French
province of Louisiana, on the Gulf of Mexico. This
shows significantly the great vicissitudes that occur
in the story of a nation. But our OAvn history has
taught us the same lesson. All the United States
were once British provinces.

I had come out early one morning, in spring, to
look at the glorious river w^hich lay for miles lilce a
mirror before me, when my attention was attracted
to a canoe with a great green bush at one end of it,
floating, apparently empty, doAvn the current. I
soon noticed a hand, close at the side, slowly sculling
it by a paddle, and keeping the bush down the
stream. As it glided past, I watched it narroAvly. A
great flock of wild ducks were splashing and diving
at some distance below ; but so slowly and silently
did the canoe drift on, that they did not seem to
heed it. All at once, a puff of smoke from the
bush, and the sound of a gun, with the fall of a
number of ducks, killed and wounded, on the water,
plainly showed wdiat it meant. An Indian in-
stantly rose up in the canoe, and paddled with all
haste to the spot to pick up the game. It was a
capital plan to cheat the poor birds, and get near
enough to kill a good number. There were immense |
flocks of waterfowl, after the ice broke up, each
year ; but they were so shy that w^e were very little

iiperior; besides
Qwn the Missis-
) whilom French
f Mexico. This
tvides that occur
own history has
he United States

ing, in spring, to
y for miles like a
ion was attracted
1 at one end of it,
L the current. I
de, slowly sculling
I bush down the
3d it narrowly. A
lashing and diving
lowly and silently
r did not seem to
smoke from the
with the foil of a
ided, on the water,
An Indian in-
d paddled with all
rrame. It "^vas a
3irds, and get near
'here were immense !
■e broke up, eaclil
we were very little |

tic

n-1

Cootes Paradise,

327

the better for them. It was very different in earlier
days, before population increased and incessant alarm
and pursuit had made them wild, for the whole pro-
vince must once have been a great sporting ground.
There is a marsh on Lake Ontario, not far from
Hamilton, called Coote's Paradise, from the delight
which an officer of that name found in the myriads
of ducks, &c., which thronged it thirty or forty
years ago.

I'tAC

\ \

^nH

828

CHAPTER XX.

Apple-bees — Orchards — Gorgeous display of apple-blossom—-
A meeting in the woods — The ague — Wild parsnips — Man
lost in the woods.

We had a great deal of fun when our orcliard got
up a little, and when we were able to trade Avith our
neighbours for fruit, in what they used to cjU
" apple-paring bees." The young folks of both sexes
were invited for a given evening in the autumn, and
came duly provided with apple-parers, which are
ingenious contrivances, by >vhich an apple, stuck on
two prongs at one end, is pared by a few turns of a
handle at the other. It is astonishing to see how
quickly it is done. Nor is the paring all. The little
machine makes a final thrust through the heart of the
apple, and takes out the core, so as to leave nothing
to do but to cut what remains in pieces. The object
of all this paring is to get apples enough dried for
tarts during winter, the pieces when cut being
threaded in long strings, and hung up till they
shrivel and get a leather-like look. W^iCn wanted
for use, a little boiling makes them swell to their
original size again, and brings back their soft-
ness. You may imagine how plentiful the fruit must
be to make such a liberal use of it possible, as that

Orchards.

829

5f apple-blossom—
ild parsnips — Man

our orchard got

trade with our
iv used to Ci.U
Iks of both sexes
the autumn, and
arers, which are

1 apple, stuck on
a few turns of a

ihing to see how
all. The little
the heart of the
to leave nothing
sees. The object
enough dried for
when cut being
ing up till they
When wanted
m swell to their
back their soft-
■ul the fruit must
possible, as that

which you see all through Canada. You can hardly
go into any house in the bush, however poor, with-
out having a large bowl of " applo sasa" set be-
fore you — that is, of apples boiled in maple sugar.
The young folks make a grand night of it when the
» bee" comes off. The laughing and frolic is un-
bounded ; some are busy with their sweethearts ;
some, of a grosser mind, are no less busy with the
apples, devouring a large proportion of what they
pare; and the whole proceedings, in many cases,
wind up with a dance on the barn-floor.

While speaking of orchards and fruit, I am re-
minded of the district along the River Thames, near
Lake St. Clair. To ride through it in June, when
the apple-blossom was out, was a sight as beautiful
as it was new to my old country eyes. A great
rolling sea of white and red flowers rose and fell
with the undulations of the landscape, the green lost
in the universal blossoming. So exhaustless, indeed,
did it seem, even to the farmers themselves, that you
could not enter one of their houses without seeing
quantities of it stuck into jugs and bowls of all sorts,
as huge bouquets, like ordinary flowers, or as if,
instead of the blossom of splendid apples, it had been
only hawthorn. Canadian apples are indeed excel-
lent — that is, the good kinds. You see thousands of
bushels small and miserable enough, but they are
used only for pigs, or for throwing by the cartload
into cider-presses. The eating and cooking apples

330 A Meeting in the JFooda,

would make any one's mouth water to look at tlicm
— so large, so round, so finely tinted. As to flavour
there can surely be nothing better. Families in
towns buy them by the barrel : in the country, even
a ploughman thinks no more of eating them than if
they were only transformed potatoes. Sweet cider
in its season, is a very common drink in many parts.
You meet it at the railway-stations, and on little
stands at the side of the street, and are offered it in
private houses. Canada is indeed a great country
for many kinds of fruit. I have already spoken of
the peaches and grapes: the plums, damsons, melons
pears, and cherries, are equally good, and equally
plentifid. Poor Hodge, who, in England, lived on a
few shillings a week, and only heard of the fine things
in orchards, feasts like a lord, when he emigrates, on
all their choicest productions.

They were wonderful people round us for their
open-air meetings — very zealous and very noisy.
I was on a visit at some distance in the summer-
time, and came on a gathering in the woods. There
were no ministers present, but some laymen con-
ducted the services. All round, were waggons witJi
the horses unyoked, and turned round to feed from
the vehicles themselves, as mangers. Some of the
intending hearers sat on the prostrate logs that lay
here and there, others stood, and some remained in
their conveyances. There was no preparation of
benches, or convenience of any kind. It so happened

ound us for their
and very noisy.
;) in the summer-
;he woods. There
jome laymen con-
wrere waggons with
•ound to feed from
ers. Some of the
strate logs that lay
some remained in
no preparation of
ad. It so happened I

The Ague. 331

that I came only at the close. The proceed inga
were over, and tliore was nothing going on, for some
time, but a little conversation among the leaders.
In one waggon I noticed a whole litter of pigs, and
found, on asking how they came to bo there, that they
belonged to a good woman who had no one with
whom to leave them at home, and had brought them
with her, that she might attc/id to their wants, and
enjoy the meetings, at the same time. There were
often open-air assemblies in the ■ voods. Temp'^'^ancc
societies, with bands of music, drew great c i wds.
Rough boards were provided for seats, and a rough
platform did for the speeches. Ad tlie country
side, old and young, went to them, for most of tho
people in the country districts are rigid teetotallers.
There are poor drunkards enough, after all, but it is
a wonder there are no more, when whiskey is only
a shilling or eighteenpence a gallon.

The great plague of the river was the ague, which
seized on a very large number. The poisonous va-
pours that rise from the nr dr. lined soil, in which a
great depth of vegetable matter lies rotting, must be
the cause, for when a dirtrict gets settled, and opened
to the sun, so that the surface is dried, it disappears.
I never had it myself, I am happy to say, but all my
brothers suffered from its attacks, and poor Eliza
shivered with it for months together. It is really a
dreadful disease. It begins with a burning fever,
occasioning a thirst which cannot be satisfied by

I I i'

83^ Wild Parsnips,

drinking any quantity of water, and when this passes
off, every bone shakes, the teeth rattle, the whole
frame quivers, with the most agonizing cold. AH the
bedclothes in the house are found to be insufficient
to keep the sufferer warm. After a day's mibery
like this, the attack ceases, and does not return till
the second day. Its weakening effects are terrible.
If severe, the patient can do nothing even in the in-
terval of the attacks, and they sometimes continue
for seven and eight months together. The only real
remedy known is quinine, and it is taken in quan-
tities that astonish a stranger. Of late years
there has been far less of the disease in the older
districts than formerly, and it is to be hoped that,
some day, it will disappear altogether, but mean-
while it is a dreadfil evil. It used to be a common
English disease, but it is now nearly unknown in
most parts of our country. Oliver Cromwell died of
it, and in Lincoln it was one of the most 23revalent
maladies. I remember meeting an old English-
woman who firmly believed in the old recipe for its
cure, of a spider steeped in a glass of wine and swal-
lowed with it. That was the way, she said, it had
been cured in her part, and nothing could be better!
A terrible misfortune befel a worthy man residing
back from the river, one spring, through his son — a
growing boy — eating some wild parsnips in ignorance
of their being poisonous. The poor little fellow
lingered for a time, and at last died in agony. This

Children in the Woods.

333

must be reckoned among the risks families run in
the bush. I have known a number of cases of a
similar kind.

One day we were startled by a man crying to us
from the road that two children of a settler, a few
miles back, were lost in the woods, and that all the
neighbours were out, searching for them. We lost
no time in hurrying to the place, and found that the
news was only too true. The two little creatures —
a sister and brother — had wandered into the woods
to pull the early anemones, which come out with the
wild leeks, by the sides of creeks and wet places, at
the beginning of spring, and they had gradually run
to one flower after another, till they were fairly lost.
The excitement was terrible. Men and women alike
left everything, to search for them. The forest was
filled with the sound of their names, which voice
after voice called out, in hopes of catching an an-
swer. Night came, and all the searchers returned
unsuccessful, but there were others who kindled
lights, and spent the darkness in their kind efforts.
But it was of no use. Two — three — four — five —
six days passed, and the lost ones were still in the
great silent woods. At last, on the seventh day,
they came on them, but almost too late. The two
were lying on the ground — the little girl dead, the
boy far gone. Tender nursing, however, brought
him round, and he was able to tell, after a while, that
they had wandered hither and thither, as long as they

!V!i

'.ti'.'.W.

334

Lost in the Woods,

'»; 1

could, eating the wild leeks, bitter and burning as
they are, until the two could go no further. He did
not know that his sister was dead till they told him.
It was touching to see his father and mother swayed
by the opposite feelings of grief for the dead, and
joy for the living.

Another time, in the winter, on a piercingly cold
night, we were roused from our seats round the fire
by the cries of some one at a distance. Going to the
door, we found it was an unfortunate fellow who had
got bewildered by the snow covering the waggon
tracks in a path through the bush, and who was
trying to make himself heard, before the neighbours
went to bed. It was lucky for him we had not done
so, for our hours were very early indeed. It was so
cold that we could only stand a few minutes at the
door by turns, but we answered his cries, and had
the satisfaction of finding that he was getting ne3rer
and nearer the open. At last, after about half an
hour, he reached the high road, and was safe. But
the fellow actually had not politeness to come up
next day, or any time after, to say he was obliged by
our saving his life.

A poor woman, not far from us, had lost her hus-
band in the forest, many years before, under circum-
stances of peculiar trial. She was then newly
married, and a stranger in the country, and he Lad
gone out to chop wood at some distance from their
house, but had been imable to find his way back.

Lost in the Woods,

335

had lost her Irns-
re, tinder circum-
was then newly
mtry, and he bad
listance from their
Lnd his way back.

His Avife and the neighbours searched long and
earnestly for him, but their utmost efforts failed to
find him. Months passed on, and not a word was
heard of him until, at last, after more than a year,
some persons came upon a human skeleton, many miles
from the place, lying in the woods, with an axe at
its side, the clothes on which showed that it was the
long-lost man. He had wandered farther and farther
from his home, living on whatever he could get in
the woods, till death, at last, ended his sorrows.

I shall never forget the story of a man who had
been lost for many days, but had, at last, luckily
wandered near some human habitations, and had
escaped. He was a timber-squarer — that is, he
squared the great trees which were intended for ex-
portation, the squaring making them lie closely to-
gether, and thus effecting a saving in freight, and had
been employed on the Georgian Bay, amongst the
huge pine forests from which so many of those
wonderful masts, so much prized, are brought. His
cabin was at a good distance from his work, which
lay now at one point, and now at another. Fortu-
nately it was fine mild autumn weather, else he
would have paid with his life for his misadventure.
On the morning of the unfortunate day, he had
set out at a very early hour, leaving his wife and
family in the expectation that he would return at
night, or within a few days at most. For a great
wonder, a fog chanced to be lying on the ground,

836

Lost in the TTooc^s.

'.:»,

hiding everything at a few yards' distance, but
he took it for granted that he knew the road
and never thought of any danger. On, therefore
he walked for some time, expecting, every moment,
to come on some indication of his approach to his
place of work. At last, the fog rose, and, to his
surprise, showed that he had walked till nearly noon,
and was in a spot totally unknown to him. Every
tree around seemed the counterpart of its neighbour,
the flowers and ferns were on all sides the same ;
nothing offered any distinguishing marks by which
to help him to decide where he was. The path along
which he had walked was a simple trail, the mere
beaten footsteps of woodmen or Indians, passing
occasionally, and to add to his perplexity, every here
and there other trails crossed it, at different angles,
with nothing to distinguish the one from the other.

It was not for some hours more, however, that
he began to feel alarmed. He took it for granted
he had gone too far, or had turned a little to one
side, and that he had only to go back, to come
to the place he wished to reach. Back, accordingly,
he forthwith turned, resting only to eat his dinner
which he had brought with him from home. But,
to his utter dismay, he saw the sun getting lower
and lower, without any sign of his nearing his
" limit." Grey shades began to stretch through the
trees ; the silence around became more oppressive as
they increased ; the long white moss on the trees, as

Lost in the Woods,

337

distance, but
new the road
On, therefore,
every moment,
approach to his
3se, and, to his
till nearly noon,
to him. Every
of its neighbour,
sides the same;
marks by which
The path along
le trail, the mere
Indians, passing
lexity, every here
t different angles,
from the other,
re, hoAvever, that
lok it for granted
led a little to one
;o back, to come
,ack, accordingly,
to eat his dinner
[rom home. But,
|sun getting lower
his nearing Ws
[retch through tlie
ore oppressive as
|ss on the trees, as

he passed a swamp, looked the very image of desola-
tion ; and, at last, he felt convinced that he was lost.
As evening closed, every living thing around him
ssemed happy but he. Like the castaway on the ocean,
who sees the sea-birds skimming the hollows of the
waves or toppling over their crests, joyful, as if they
felt at home, he noticed the squirrels disappearing in
their holes ; the crows flying lazily to their roosts ; all
the creatures of the day betaking themselves to their
rest. There was no moon that night, and if there
had been, he was too tired to walk further by its
lisrht. He could do no more than remain where he
was till the morning came again. Sitting down, with
his back against a great tree, he thought of every-
thing by turns. Turning round, he prayed on his
bended knees, then sat down again in his awful lone-
liness. Phosphoric lights gleamed from the decayed
trees on the ground; myriads of insects filled the
air, and the hooting of owls, and the sweep of night-
hawks and bats, served to fill his mind with gloomy
fears, but ever and anon, his mind reverted to hap-
pier thoughts, and to a growing feeling of confidence
that he should regain his way on the morrow.

With the first light he was on his feet once more,
after offering a prayer to his Maker, asking His
lielp in this terrible trial. He !iad ceased to con-
jecture where he was, and had lost even the aid of a
vague track. Nevertheless, if he could only push on,
lie thought he must surely effect his escape before

I'l"

338

Zosi in the Woods.

long. The sun had a great sweep to make, and he
was young and strong. Faster and faster he pressed
forwards as the hours passed, the agony of his mind
driving him on the more hurriedly as his hopes o-rew
fainter. Fytigue, anxiety, and hunger were mean-
while growing more and more unbearable. His
nerves seemed fairly unstrung, and as he threw him-
self on the ground to spend a second night in the
wilderness, the shadow of death seemed to lower
over him. Frantic at his awful position, he tore his
hair, and beat his breast, and wept like a child. He
might, he knew, be near home, but he might, on tlie
other hand, be far distant from it. He had walked
fifty miles he was sure, and where in this inter-
minable wilderness had he reached ? His only food
through the day had been some wild fruits and ber-
ries, which were very scarce, and so acrid that they
pained his gums as he ate them. He had passed no
stream, but had found water in holes of fallen trees.
What he suffered that night no one can realize who
has not been in some similar extremity. He had no
weapon but his axe, and hence, even if he came upon
deer or other creatures, he could not kill them—
there seemed no way to get out of thti horrible laby-
rinth in which he was now shut up. From the
morning of the third day his mind, he assured me,
became so bewildered that he could recollect very
little of what then took place. How he lived lie |
could hardly say — it must have been on frogs, and

Lost in the Wooda,

339

D make, and he
iaster he pressed
ony of his mind
9 his hopes grew
iger Avere iiiean-
Lnbearable. His
as he threw him-
ond night in the
seemed to loAver
(sition, he tore his
like a child. He
t he might, on the
He had walked
are in this inter-
d ? His only food
ild fruits and ber-
so acrid that they
He had passed no
»les of fallen trees.
iie can reaUze who
imity. He had no
in if he came upon
not kill them—
the horrible laby-
[it up. l^rom the
d, he assured me,
,uld recollect Tery
How he lived he
Ibcen on frogs, and I

snakes, and grass, and weeds, as well as berries, for
there were too few of these last to keep him alive.
Once he was fortunate enough to come on a tortoise,
which he could not resist the temptation to kill,
though he knew that if he followed it quietly it would
guide him to some stream, and thus afford him the
means of escape. Its raw flesh gave him two great
meals. His clothes were in tatters, his face begrimed,
his hair and beard matted, his eyes hot and blood-
shot, and his strength was failing fast. On the tenth
day he thought he could go no farther, but must lie
down and die. But deliverance was now at hand.
As he lay, half unconscious from weakness of body
and nervous exhaustion, he fancied he heard the drip
of oars. In an instant every faculty was revived.
His ear seemed to gather unnatural quickness ; he
could have heard the faintest sound at a great dis-
tance. Mustering all his strength, he rose, and with
the utmost haste made for the direction from which
the cheering sound proceeded. Down some slopes —
up opposite banks — and there at last the broad water
lay before him. He could not rest with the mere
vision of hope, so on he rushed through the thick
brush, over the fretting of fallen timber and the
brown carpet of leaves, till he reached the river-
bank, which was sloping at the point where he
emerged, a tongue of land jutting out into the water,
clear of trees. To the end of this, with anxiety
indescribable, he ran, and kneeled in the attitude

340

Lost in the Woods,

of prayer at once to God for his merciful deliver-
ance, and to man, when the boat should come, whose
approach he now heard more clearly from afar, — that
he might be taken to some human dwelling. The
boat did come — his fe<^ble cry reached it, and in a
moment, when they saw his thin arms waving for
help as he kneeled before them, the bows were

turned to ti shore, and he was taken on board

the lost one found ! He fainted as soon as he was
rescued, and such was his state of exhaustion, that
at first it seemed almost impossible to revive him.
But by the care of his wife^ to whom he was restored
as soon as possible, he gradually gathered strength
and when I saw him some years after was hearty and
vigorous. The place where he was found was full
thirty miles from his own house, and he must have
wandered altogether at least a hundred and fifty
miles — probably in a series of circles round nearly the
same points.

*
1 \

841

CHAPTER XXI. '

A tornado — Bats — Deserted lots — American inquisitive-
nesa — An election agent.

I HAVE already spoken of the belt of trees running
back some miles from us, familiarly called " The
Windfall," from their having been thrown down by
a hurricane many years before. Some years after,
when living for a time in another part of the pro-
vince, I had a vivid illustration of what these terrible
storms really are. It was a fine day, and I was
jogging along quietly on my horse. It ^ iras in the
height of summer, and everything around was in all
the glory of the season. The tall mints, with their
bright flowers, the lofty Aaron's rod, the beau-
tiful Virginia creeper, the wild convolvulus, and
wild roses, covered the roadsides, and ran, as far as
the light permitted them, into the openings of the
forest. The country was a long roll of gentle undu-
lations, with clear streamlets every here and there in
the hollows. The woods themselves presented a per-
petual picture of beauty as I rode along. High above,
rose the great oaks, and elms, and beeches, and maples,
with their tall trunks free of branches till they
stretched far overhead; while round their feet, not

', V 'II

\tkti

Br.

312

A Tornado,

too thickly, but in such abundance as made the scene
perfect, waved young trees of all these kinds, inter-
mixed with silver birches and sumachs. My horse
had stopped of his own accord to drink at one of the
brooks that brawled under the rude bridges across
the road, when, happening to look up, I noticed a
strange appearance in the sky, which I had not ob-
served before. A thick haze was descending on tlio
earth, like the darkness that precedes a storm. Yet
there was no other sign of any approaching convul-
sion of nature. There Avas a profound hush and gloom,
but what it might forebode did not as yet appear. I
was not, however, left long in ignorance. Scarcely
had my horse taken its last draught and forded across
the brook, than a low murmuring sound in the air,
coming from a distance, and unlike anything I had
ever heard before, arrested my attention. A yellow
spot in the haze towards the south-west likewise
attracted my notice. The next moment the tops of
the taller trees began to swing in the wii^d, wliich
presently increased in force, and the light branches
and twigs began to break off. I was git d I happened
to be at an open spot, out of reach of immediate
danger, the edges of the brook being cleared for some
distance on both sides. Two minutes more, and tlie
storm burst on the forest in all its violence. ilnnQ
trees swayed to and fro under its rude shock like tlie
masts of ships on a tempestuous sea; they rubbed
and creaked like a ship's timbers when she rolls, and

A Tornado,

343

tlie sky grew darker and darker, as if obscured hy
a total eclipse of the sun. It was evident tliat the
fury of the storm would not sweep tlirougli the open
wliero I stood, but would spend itself on the woods
before me. Meanwhile, as I looked, the huge oaks
and maples bent before the ♦^ornado, the air was thick
with their huge limbs, twisted off in a moment, and
the trees themselves were falling in hundreds beneath
the irresistible power of the storm. I noticed that
they always fell with their heads in the direction of
the hurricane, as if they had been wrenched rcun 1
and flung behind it as it passed. Some went down
bodily, others broke across, all yielded and sank in
ruin and confusion. The air got blacker and blacker
—a cloud of branches and limbs of trees filled the
whole breadth of the tempest, some of them flung by
it, every now and then, high up in the air, or dashed
with amazing violence to the groimd. A few minutes
more, and it swept on to make similar havoc in other
parts. But it was long before the air was clear of
the wreck of the forest. The smaller branches
seemed to float in it as if upheld by some current that
was sucked on by the hurricane, tiiongh unfelt on
the surface of the ground. In a surprisingly short
time a belt of the woods, about an eighth of a mile in
breadth, and running I cannot tell how flir back, Avas
one vast chaos, through which no human efforts could
find a way. The same night, as we afterwards
learned, the tornado had struck points incredibly dis-

III! ii;|..,.:

li^!

ill,' '• I.

341

A Tornado.

tant, taking a vast sweep across Luke Ontario, ra-
vaging a part of Now York, and finally rushing uwiiy
to tlie north in tlie neighbourhood of Quebec.

The destruction it caused was not limited to its
ravages in the forest ; farmhouses, barns, orcliards,
and fences, were swept away like chuff. I passed
one orchard in which every tree hud been (Irngged
up and blown away ; the fences for miles, in the };at]i
of the storm, were carried into the air like straws,
never to be found again; the water in a mill-pond
by the roadside was lifted fairly out of it, and the
bottom left bare. At one place a barn and stables
had been wrenched into fragments, the contents
scattered to the winds, and the very horses lifted into
the air, and carried some distance. Saw-mills were
stripped of their whole stock of " lumber," every plank
being swept up into the vortex, and strewn no one
knew whither. There were incidents as curious as
extraordinary in the events of the day. A sheep
was found on one farm, uninjured, beneath a huge
iron kettle, which had been carried off and capsized
over the poor animal, as if in sport. Wherever the
storm passed through the forest was, from that
moment, a tangled desolation, lefl to itself, except
by the beasts that might choose a safe covert in its
recesses. Thenceforth, the briars and bushes would
have it for their own, and grow undisturbed. No
human footstep would ever turn towards it till all
the standing forest around had been cut down.

Bats,

815

chufF. I passed
^d been dragged
iiiles, in the path
air like straws,
in a nill-pond
it of it, and the
barn and stables
its, the contents
horses lifted into
Saw-mills Avere
ber," every plank
i strewn no one
nts as curious as
day. A sheep
beneath a huge
off and capsized
Wherever the
was, from that
to itself, except
;afe covert in its
nd bushes would
ndisturbcd. No
owards it till all
cut down.

The bats were very plentiful in summer, and used
often to fly into the house, to the great terror of my
sister Margaret, who used to be as afraid ol' a bat us
Buflfon was of a squirrel. They Avere no larger than
our English bats, and undistinguishal)le from them
to an ordinary eye. Almost as often as we went
out on the lino warm evenings, wo were attracted
by their flying hither and thither below the branches
of the trees, or out in the open ground, boating the
air with great rapidity with their wonderfid mem-
branous wings. A bird peculiar to America used
to divide attention with them in the twilight — the
famous " whip-poor-will," one of the family of the
goatsuckers ; of which, in England, the night-jar is
a well-known example. It is amazing how distinctly
the curious sounds, from which it takes its name, are
given ; they are repeated incessantly, and create no
little amusement when they come from a number of
birds at once. The flight of the whip-poor-will is
very rapid, and they double, and twist, and turn in
a surprising way. Their food is the larger moths
and insects, any of which, I should think, they could
swallow, for it is true in their case at least, that their
"mouth is from ear to ear." The gape is enormous,
reaching even behind the eye ; and woe betide any
unfortunate moths or chaffers that may cross their
path. It sees perfectly by night, but is purblind
by day, its huge eye showing, the moment you seo
it, that, like that of the owls, it is for service in par -

846

Deserted Lots,

^Mit Witts

U»-»*«^,

tial darkness. The light completely confuses it so
that, until sunset, it is never seen, unless when ono
comes by accident uf)on its resting-place, where it sits
sleeping on some log or low branch, from whicli
it will only fly a very short distance if disturbed
alighting again as soon as possible, and dozing cif
forthwith. They used to come in June, and enliven
the evenings till September, when they left us again
for the south. Some peopb used to think it fine sjiort
to shoot birds so swift of flight ; but, somehow, I could
never bring myself to touch creatiu'es that spokt my
own language, however imperfectly.

Immediately behind our lot was one which often
struck me as very desolate-looking when I had to
go to it to bring home the cows at night. A field
had been cleared, and a house built, but both field
and house were deserted : long swamp grass grew
thick in the hollows ; nettles, and roses, and buslies
of all kinds, climbed up, outside and in ; the roof was
gone, and only the four walls w^ere left. I never
learned more than the name of the person who had
expended so much labour on the place, and tlieu
abandoned it. But there were other spots just like
it all over the bush ; spots where settlers had begun
with high hopes ; had worked hard for a time, until
they lost heart, or had been stopped by some insur-
mountable obstacle, and had deserted the home they
had once been so proud of One case I kiew was
caused l)y a touching incident of bush-life. A young,

Americafi Inqulsitiveness. .^47

hearty man, had gone out in the morning to cliop at
his clearing, but had not retuniv^d at dinner, and
was found by his wilo, when she went to look for
him, lying on his back, dead, with a tree he had
felled resting on his breaist. It had slipped back,
perhaps, off the stump in falling, and had crushed
him beneath it. What agony such an accident in
such circumstances must have caused to the sufferer !
The poor fellow's wife could do nothing even towards
extricating her husband's body, but had to leave it
thcfc till the neighbours came, and chopped the tree
ill two, so that it could be got away. No wonder she
" sold out," and left the scene of so great a calamity.
Every one has heard of the inquisitiveness of both
Scotchmen and Americans. I allude more par-
ticularly to those of the humbler ranks. I have
often laughed at the examples we met with in our
intercourse not only with these races, but with the
less polished of others, also, in Canada. I was going
down to Detroit on the little steamer which used to
run between that town and Lake Huron — a steamer
so small that it was currently reported among the
boys, that one very stout lady in the township had
made it lurch when she went on board — and had
got on the upper deck to look round. The little
American village on the opposite side was " called
at," and left, in a very few minutes, and we were off
again past the low shores of the river. A little pug-
nosed man, in a white hat and white linen jacket,

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348 American Inquisitiveness.

was the only one up beside me ; and it was net in

his nature, evidently, that we should be long without

talking. "Fine captain on this here boat?" said

he. I agreed with him offhand ; that is, I took it

for granted he was so. " Yes, he's the likeliest

captain I've seen since I left Ohio. How plain you

see whar the boat run — look ! Well, we're leavino-

County- Seat right straight, I guess. Whar you

born?" "Where do you think?" I answered.

" Either Ireland or Scotland, anyhow." " No.

Yo^Cre Irish, at any rate, I suppose ?" — I st.-uck

in. " No, sirr — no, sirree — I'm Yankee born, and

bred in Yankee toAvn, and my parents afore me.

Are you travelling altogether ? " I asked him

what he meant, for I really didn't understand this

question. " Why, travelling for a living — what do

you sell ?" On my telling him he was wrong for

once, hG seemed a little confounded ; but presently

recovered, and drew a bottle out of his breast-pocket,

adding, as he did so — " Will you take some bitters?"

I thanked liim, and said, I was " temperance." "You

don't drink none, then ? Well, I do;" on whicli he

suited the action to the word, putting the bottle

back in its phice <ngain, after duly wiping his lips on

his cuff. But his questions were not done yet.

"Whar you live?" I told him. " Married man?"

I said I had not the happiness of being so. " How

Iciig since you came from England ?" — I answered.

*' You remember when you came ?" I said I hoped I

ss.

[ it was net in
be long without
re boat?" said
Eit is, I took it
s's the likeHest
How plain you
11, we're leaving
3S. Whar you
?" I answered,
lyhow." " No.
3se ?" — I st'uck
ankee born, and
arents afore me.
I asked him
, understand this
living — what do
e was wrong for
I ; but presently
lis breast-pocket,
ke some bitters?"
iperance.'' "You
o;" on which he
utting the bottle
viping his lips on
! not done yet.
Married man?"
)eing so. " How
I ?" — I answered.

I said I hoped I

An Election Agent. 349

did, else my faculties must be failing. " I guess you
^vere pretty long on the waters ?" But I was getting
tired of his impudence, and so gave him a laconic
answer, and dived into the cabin out of his way.

I was very much amused at a rencontre between
the " captain," who seemed a really respectable man,
and another of the passengers, who, it appeared, had
come on board without having money to pay his fare.
The offender was dressed in an unbleached linen
blouse, with " dandy" trowsers, wide across the body,
and tapering to the feet, with w^orn straj)s of the
same material; old boots of a fashionable make, an
open waistcoat, and an immensity of dirty-white
shirt-breast ; a straw hat, with a long green and lilac
ribbon round it. A cigar in his mouth, a mock
ring on his finger, and a very bloodshot eye, com-
pleted the picture. It see'Tied he was a subordinate
electioneering agent, sem i-ound to make stump
speeches for his party, an i, generally, to influence
votes; and the trouble 'vith the captain evidently
rose from his wishing tc have his iV.i 3 charged to the
committee who sent him out, rather than pay it him-
self. The captain certainly gave him no quarter.
" He's a low, drunken watchmaker," said he, turn-
ing to me; "I saw him last night spouting away for
General Cass on the steps of the ch-irch at Huron.
The fellow w^ants to get off without paying — I
suppose we'll have to let him." And he did. He
got through to the journey's end.

330

CHAPTER XXII

A journey to Niagara— River St. Clair — Detroit— A slave's
escape — An American steamer — Description of the Falls
of Niagara — Fearful catastropiie.

The country on the St. Clair, though beautiful from
the presence of the river, was, in itself, flat and tame
enough. All Canada West^ indeed, is remarlablv
level. The ridge of limestone hills Avhich runs across
from tlie State of New York at Niagara, and stretches
to the north, is the only elevation greater tlian the
round swells, which, in some parts, make tiie land-
scape look like a succession of broad black waves.
The borders of the St. Clair itself were higher than
the land immediately behind them, so that a belt of
swamp ran parallel with the stream, rich reaches of
black soil rising behind it, through township ;i;:.r
township. The list of natural sights in such a part
v/as not great, though the charms of the few there
were were unfading. There was the river itsell^ and
there Avas the vast leafy ocean of tree tops, with the
great aisles with innumerable pillars stretching away
underneath like some vast cathedral of nature; but
these were common to all the country. The One
Wonder of the land was at a distance. It was

Niagara-

How we longed to see it ! But it was

Detroit,

351

Detroit— A slave's
iption of the Falls

li beautiful from
self, flat and tame
i, is remarlably
vliich runs across
ara, and stretches
Q;reater than the
3, make the land-
oad black waves.
were higher than
, so that a belt of
n, ricli reaches of
;li toAvnship Jn'i'.r
ts in sucli a part
of the few there
le river itself, and
ee tops, with the
s stretching away
al of nature; 1/Ut
untry. The One
iistance. It was
it! But it was

some years before any of us could, and there was no
opportunity of going together. I had to set out by
mvself It was in the month of Septeml)er, just
before the leaves began to turn. The weather was
glorious — not too warm, and as bright as in Italy.
I started in the little steamer for Detroit, passing the
Indian settlement at Walpole Island, the broad flats
covered with coarse grass, towards the entrance of
Lake St. Clair, and, at last, threading the lake itself,
through the channel marked out across its sliallow
and muddy breadth, by long lines of poles, like tele-
graphs on each side of a street. Detroit "was the
London of all the folks on the river. They bought
everything they wanted there, it being easy of access,
and its size offering a larger choice than could be
obtained elsewhere. It is a great and growing place ;
though, in the lifetime of a person still living —
General Cass — it was only the little French village
which it had been for a hundred years before.
Taking the steamer to Buffalo, which started in an
hour or two after I got to Detroit, I was once more
on my way as the afternoon was drawing to a close.
We were to call at various British ports, so that I
had a chance of seeing different parts of the province
that I had not yet visited. The first step in our
voyage v»^as to cross to Sandwich, the village on the
Canadian shore, opposite Detroit, from which it is
less than a mile distant. I was glad to see a spot so
sacred to liberty — for Sandwich is the great point

353 A Slave's Uscape.

which the fugitive slaves, from every part of the
Union, eagerly attempt to reach. I felt proud of my
country at the thought that it was no vain boast, but
a glorious truth, that slaves could not breathe in
England, nor on British soil; that the first touch of
it by the foot of the bondsman broke his fetters and
made him free for ever. I was so full of the thought,
that when we were once more under weigh it na-
turally became the subject of conversation with an
intelligent fellow-traveller, who had come on board
at Sandwich. " I was standing at my door,' said
he, " a week or two ago, when I saw a skiff with a
man in it, rowing, in hot haste, to our side. How
the oars flashed — how his back bent to them — how
he pulled ! It was soon evident what was his
object. As he came near, I saw he was a negro.
Though no one was pursuing, he could not take it
easy, and, at last, with a great bend, he swept up to
the bank, pulled up the skiff, and ran up to the road,
leaping, throv/ing up his hat in the air, shouting,
singing, laughing — in short, fairly beside him-
self with excitement. * I'm free ! I'm free ! — no
more slave !' was the burden of his loud rejoicing,
and it was long before he calmed down enough for
any one to ask him his story. He had come all the
way up the Mississippi from Arkansas, travelling by
night, lying in the woods by day, living on corr.
pulled from the fields or on "ooultry he could catch
round farmhouses or negro quarters ; sometimes eat-

A Slave's Escape, 853

ing them raw, lest the smoke of his fire should dis-
cover him. At last he reached Illinois, a free State,
after long weeks of travel; but here his worst
troubles began. Not being able to give a very clear
accodnt of himself, they put him in jail as a * fugi-
tive.' But he gave a wrong name instead of his
own, and a wrong State instead of that from which
he had come. He told them, in fact, he had come
from Maryland, which was at the very opposite side
of the Union from Arkansas, and was kept in jail
for a whole year, while they were advertising him,
to try to get some owner to claim him, and they let
him off only when none appeared in the whole twelve
months. This ordeal passed, he gradually made his
way to Detroit, and now, after running such a ter-
rible gauntlet, he had risen from a mere chattel to
be a man !" Seeing the interest I took in the inci-
dent, he went on to tell me others equally exciting.
One which I remember, was the rescue of a slave
from some officers who had discovered him in one of
the frontier towns of the States, and were taking
him, bound like a sheep, to Buffalo, to carry him off
to his master in the South. Indignant at such treat-
ment of a fellow-man, a young Englishman, who
has since been a member of the Canadian Parliament,
and was then on the boat with him, determined, if
possible, to cheat the men- stealers of their prey.
Breaking his design to the coloured cook, and through
him, getting the secret aid of aU the other coloured

A A

854.

An American Steamer,

men on the boat, he waited till they reached Buffalo
some of the confederates having previously told the
poor slave the scheme that was afoot. As the boat
got alongside the wharf, seizing a moment when his
guards had left him, the gallant young fellow effectu-
ally severed the rope that bound the slave, and
telling him to follow him instantly, dashed over the
gangway to the wharf, and leaped into a skiff whicli
was lying at hand, with oars in it ready, the negro
following at his heels in a moment; then, pushing
off, he struck out into the lake, and reached Canada
safely with his living triumph. The story made
a thrill run through me. It was a brave deed
daringly done. The risk was great, but the object
was noble, and he must have had a fine spirit who
braved the one to accomplish the other.
• The steamer itself was very different from those
with which I had been familiar in England. Instead
of cabins entirely below the deck, the body of the i
ship was reserved for a dining-room, surrounded by
berths, and one portion of it covered in for cargo;
the ladies' cabin was raised on the back part of the I
main deck, with a walk all round it ; then came an]
open space with sofas, which was like a hall or lobby
for receiving passengers or letting them out. Next!
to this, at the sides, was a long set of offices, facing tliej
engine-room in the centre, and reaching beyond tliej
paddle-boxes, both the side and central structures be-j
ing continued for some distance, to make places for tkj

reached Buffalo,
jviously told the
ot. As the boat
aoment when his
ng fellow effectu-
. the slave, and,
, dashed over the
into a skiff which

ready, the negro
nt; then, pushing
d reached Canada

The story made
)vas a brave deed
at, but the object
i a fine spirit who

(ther.

ifferent from those

England. Instead

^ the body of the |
|om, surrounded by |

■ered in for cargo;

.e back part of the I
it ; then came an)

like a hall or lobby
them out. Next
of offices, facing tliej

eaching beyond the

intral structures be-l

make places for the

An American Steamer.

355

cook's galley, for a bar for selling spirits ?nd cigars,
for a barber's shop, and for I know not what other
conveniences. Covering in all these, an upper deck
stretched the whole length of the ship, and on this rose
the great cabin, a long room, provided with sofas,
mirrors, carpets, a piano, and every detail of a huge
drawing-room, — innumerable doors at each side open-
ing into sleeping places for the gentlemen travellers.
It was a fine sight, with its profusion of gilding and
white paint on the walls and ceiling, its paintings on
panels at regular intervals all round, its showy fur-
niture and its company of both sexes. You could get
on the top even of this cabin, if you liked, or, if you
thought you were high enough, might go out on the
open space at each end, where seats in abundance
awaited occupants. The whole structure, seen fi-om
the wharf when it stopped at any place, was liker a
floating house than a ship, and seemed very strange
to me at first, with its two stories above the deck,
and its innumerable doors and windows, and its
dazzling white colour firom stem to stern. Such
vessels may do well enough for calm weather or for
rivers, but they are fui. fi*om safe in a storm at any
distance from land. The wind catches them so
fiercely on their great high works that they are like
to capsize, when a low-built ship would be in no
danger. Indeed, we had a proof of this on coming
out of Buffalo to cross to Chippewa ; for as the wind
I kd blown during the night while we were ashore,

A a2

356

An A fwrican Steamer,

if"

we found when we started again next morning that

the shallow water of that part of the lake wa*s j^retty

rough, and our way leading us almost into the trough

of the waves, the boat swayed ho much to each side

alternately that 'he captain got all the passengers

gathered in a bod)-, and made them run from the low

to the high side by turns, to keep it from swamping.

The water was actually coming in on the main deck

at every roll. It was very disagreeable to have such

a tumbling about, but this ugly state of things did

not last long. The smooth water of the Niagara was

soon reached, and we were gliding down to within

about three miles or so of the Falls, as quietly and

carelessly as if no such awful gulf were so near. 1 1

could not help thinking how terrible it would have

been had any accident injured our machinery in such

a position. There certainly were no sails on the

boat, and I greatly question if there was an anchor,

the short distance of her trips making one generallyl

unnecessary. At last we got safely into Chippewal

Creek, and all chance of danger had passed away.

Long before reaching this haven of refuge, a whitel
mist, steadily rising, and disappearing high in the air,J
had marked with unmistakable certainty our near ap-
proach to the grand spectacle I had come to see. Neveij
for a moment still, it had risen and sunk, grown
broader and lighter, melted into one great cloud, oil
broken into waves of white vapour, from the time '.
had first seen it; and had made me restless till I wa

The Falls of Niagara, 357

safely on shore. The sensation was painfiil — a kind
of instinct of danger, and an uneasiness till it was
past. Having nothing to detain me, I determined to
lose no time in getting to tlie Falls themselves; and
therefore, leaving my portmanteau to be sent on
after me, I set out for fhera on foot. There is a
beautiful broad road ta the spot, and it was in ex-
cellent order, as the rains had not yet com-
menced, so that I jogged on merrily, and was soon at
my journey's end at Drumniondville, the village near
the Falls, on the Canada sido, where I resolved to
stay for some days. One of the finest views of the
great wonder burst upon my sight during this walk.
On a sudden, at a turn of the road, an opening in the
trees showed me the Falls from behind, in the very
bend downwards to the gulf beneath. The awful
gliding of the vast mass of waters into an abyss which,
from that position, only showed its presence without
revealing its depth, filled me with indescribable awe.
Over the edge, whither, I as yet knew not, were de-
scending, in unbroken volume, millions of tons of
water. Above, rose the ever-changing clouds of
vapour, like the smoke from a vast altar, and behind,
looking up the river, were the struggling waves of
the rapids, covering the whole breadth of the stream
with bars of restless white. After seeing Niagara
from every other point of view, I think this is one of
the finest. The leap into the hidden depths has in
it something awful beyond any power of description.

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858 The Falls of Niagara,

You may be sure I did full justice to the oppor-
tunities my visit afforded me, and kept afoot, day after
day, with praiseworthy diligence. My first walk to
the Falls, fi:om the village, brought me, through a
break in a sandy bank, to a spot from which no-
thing could be seen at the bottom of a gorge but the
white foam of the American Fall. The trees filled
each side of the descent, arching overhead, and made
the vista even more beautiful than the wild outline
of the bank itself would have been ; the water, like
sparkling snow, drifting in long tongues down the
face of the hidden rocks, filling up the whole view
beyond. It depended on the position of the sun
whether the picture were one of dazzling white or i
more or less dulled; but at all times the falling
water, broken into spray and partially blown back as
it descended, by the force of the air, was one of sur-
passing beauty. The American Fall, though nine
hundred feet wide, has only a small part of the cur-
rent passing over it, and it is this shallowness that
makes it break into foam at the moment of its de-
scent. Emerging on the road at the edge of the river,
the great Horse-shoe was at once before me on my
right hand. No wonder the Indians called it " Ni-
wa-gay-rah" — the " Thunder of Waters." A mass of I
a hundred millions of tons of water, falling a depth of j
a hundred and fifty feet in the course of a single i
hour, while you stand by, may well give such a sound
as overwhelms the listener's sense of hearing. It is I

The Falls of Niagara. 859

no use attempting to picture the scene. It was some
time before I could go near the edge, but at last,
when my head was less dizzy, I went out on the
projecting point called the Table Rock, which has,
however, long since fallen into the abyss, and there,
on a mere ledge, from which all beneath had been
eaten away by the spray, I could let the spectacle
gradually fill my mind. You cannot see Niagara at
once ; it takes day after day to realize its vastness.
I was astonished at the slow unbroken fall of the
water. So vast is the quantity hanging in the air
at any one moment, that it moves down in a great
green sheet, with a slow, awful descent. The patches
of white formed in spots here and there showed how
majestically it goes down to the abyss. Think of
such a laimching of a great river, two thousand feet
in breadth, over a sudden precipice — the smooth
flow above — the green crest — ^the massy solidity of
the descent — and then the impenetrable clouds of
watery spray that hide the bottom. Yet at the edge
it was so shallow that one might have waded some
steps into it without apparent danger. Indeed, I
noticed men one day damming it back some feet, in
a vain attempt to get out the body of a poor man
who had leaped over. They hoped it would be found
jammed among the rocks at the bottom, within reach,
if this side water were forced back. But if it ever
had been, it was since washed away, and no efforts
could recover it. Descending a spiral staircase close

860 The Falls of Niagara,

to the Table Kock, I had another view from below
and what words can convey the impression of the
deep, trembling boom of the waters, as you caught
it thus confined in the abyss ? It was terrible to look
into the cauldron, smoking, heaving, foaming, rush-
ing, as far as the eye could see through the mist. A
slope of fragments from the side of the rock offered
a slippery path up to the thick curtain of the Falls,
and you could even go behind it if you chose. But
I had not nerve enough to do so, though several par-
ties ventured in, after having put on oilskin cloches;
guides, who live in part by the occupation, leading
them on their way. Overhead, Table Rock reached
far out, awaiting its fall, which I felt sure could not
be long delayed. In crossing it I noticed a broad
crack, which each successive year would, of 'bourse,
deepen. On every ledge, up to the top of the pre-
cipice, grass and flowers, nourished by the incessant
spray, relieved the bareness, and in the middle of the
river, dividing the Horse-shoe Fall from the Ame-
rican, the trees on Goat Island dimly showed them-
selves through the ascending smoke. The vast sweep
of waters bending round the Horse-shoe for more
than the third of a mile, was hemmed in at the far-
ther side by masses of rock, the lower end of Goat
Island projecting roughly from the torrents at each
side, so as to hide part of the more distant one from
my sight. A hill of fragments from its face lay
heaped up in the centre, and more thinly scattered at

The Falls of Niagara, 361

the farther side. But I could pay little attention to
details, with the huge cauldron within a few yards of
me, into which the great green walls of water were
being every moment precipitated, and which, broken
into sheets of foam, hissed, and lashed, and raged, and
boiled, in wild uproar, as far as my eye could reach.
The contrast between the solemn calmness of the
great sheet of green ever gliding down in the centre,
with the curtain of snowy wreaths at its edges, where
the stream above, from its shallowness, broke into
white crystalline rain in the moment of its first descent,
and the tossing, smoking, storm, beneath, was over-
powering, and — accompanied as it ever was with the
stunning, deafening noise of three thousand six
hundred millions of cubic feet of water falling in
an hour, from so great a height — filled my mind
with a sense of the awful majesty and power of God
such as I scarcely remember to have felt elsewhere.

Being anxious to cross to the American side, I
walked down the side of the river, after having as-
cended to the top of the bank, and at last, about a
mile below, found a road running slowly down to the
level of the water, the slope having brought me
back to within a comparatively short distance of the
Fall. It would have been impossible to have
reached this point by keeping along below, the
broken heaps of rock making the way impracticable.
The river at the place I had now gained is, however,
80 wonderfully calm that a ferry boat plies between

iiD

362 The Talk of Niagara,

the British and American shores, and by this I
crossed. Some ladies who were in it seemed, at
first, in some measure alarmed by the heaving of the
water, but as the surface was unbroken, and reflection
showed that it must be safe, they soon resigned
themselves to the charms of the view around. Forth-
with, the boat was in the centre of a vast semicircle
of descending floods, more than three thousand feet
in their sweep, and on the edge of the foaming sheets
of the unfathomable gulf, into which they were
thundering down. The grand cliiFs on each side, the
brown rocks of Goat Island in the midst, the fringe
of huge trees in the distance on every hand, the
clouds of spray which rose in thick smoke from the
tormented waters — the whole pierced and lighted up
by the rays of a glorious sun, made a scene of sur-
passing beauty. I could not, however, take my eyes
for more than a 'moment from the overwhelming
grandeur of the main feature in the picture. Still,
down, in their awful, dense, stupendous floods, came
the waters, gathered from the inland seas of a con-
tinent, pouring as if another deluge were about to
overwhelm all things. But, high over them, in the
ever-rising clouds of vapour, stretched a great rain-
bow, as if to remind us of the solemn pledge given
of old, and the very edges of the mist glittered, as
each beat of the oar sent us on, with a succession of
prismatic colours, the broken fragments of others
which shone for a moment and then passed away.

The Falls of Niagara, 363

The ascent at the American side was accomplished
by a contrivance which I think must be almost unique.
A strong wooden railroad has been laid, at a most
perilous slope, from the bottom to the top of the
cliff, and a conveyance which is simply three huge
wooden steps, on wheels, furnishes the means of
ascent, a wheel at the top driven by water, twisting
it up, by a cable passed round a windlass. I could
not help shuddering at the consequence of any acci-
dent that might occur, from so precarious an arrange-
ment. Goat Island is one of the great attractions on
this farther side, and is reached by a bridge which
makes one half forget the wildness of the gulf across
which it is stretched. There is a house on the island
in which I found refreshments and Indian curiosities
for sale, but as I was more interested in the Falls
for the moment than in anything else, I pushed on
by a path which turned to the right and led straight
to them. A small island on the very edge of the
precipice, and connected by a frail bridge with Goat
Island, lay on my road. It was the scene of a very
affecting accident in 1849. A gentleman from Buffalo
had visited it along with his family and a young man
of the name of Addington, and after looking over it,
the party were about to leave the spot, when Ad-
dington, in his thoughtless spirits, suddenly took up
one of the little children, a girl, in his arms, and;
held her over the edge of the bank, telling her that
he was going to throw her in. The poor child, ter-

864 The Falls of Niagara,

rifled, unfortunately made a twist, and rolled out of
his hands into the stream. Poor Addington, in a
moment, with a loud cry of horror, sprang in to save
her, but both, almost before the others at their side
knew that anything of so fearful a kind had hap-
pened, weru swept into the abyss beneath. Beyond
Goat Island, a singularly daring structure has enabled
visitors to cross to some scattered masses of rock on
the very brink of the Great Fall. A tower has been
erected on them, and a slight bridge, which is always
wet with the spray, has been stretched acrosa t a it.
From this point the whole extent of the Falls is be-
fore you. It was an awful sight to look down on the
rushing terrors at my feet. I felt confused, over-
whelmed, and almost stunned. Once after, on an-
other visit, I clambered out to it over the mounds of
ice in winter, but I hardly know that the impression
was deeper then.

There are accidents every now and then at Nia-
gara, but it is only wonderful that, amidst such
dangers, there are no more. The truth is that here,
as well as elsewhere, familiarity breeds contempt.
Thus, in 1854, a man ventured, with his son, to cross
the rapids above the Falls, in a skiff, to save some
property which happened to be on a flat-bottomed
<* scow," which had broken from its moorings, and
stuck fast at some distance above Goat Island. The
two shot out into the broken water, and were car-
ried with terrible swiftness down towards the " scow,"

'5. uH«S /

Th Falls of Niagara. 365

into which the son sprang as they shot past, fastening
the skiff to it as he did so. Having taken off the
goods they wished to save, the skiff, with both on
board, was once more pushed off, and flew like an
arrow on the foaming water, towards the Three
Sisters — the name of some rocks above Goat Island.
The fate of the two men seemed to be sealed, for
they were nearing the centre Fall, and, to go over it,
would be instant death. But they managed, when
on its very verge, to push into an eddy, and reach
the second Sister. On this, they landed, and having
dragged ashore the skiff, carried it to the foot of the
island, a proof that the "property" they wished to
rescue could not have weighed very much. There,
they once more launched it, and making a bold
sweep down the rapids, their oars going with their
utmost strength, they succeeded in reaching the
shore of Goat Island in safety, though it seems to me
as if, after thus tempting their fate, they hardly de-
served to do so.

I was very much struck by the appearance of the
rapids above the Falls, on a visit I made to an island
some distance up the river, in the very middle of
them. A fine broad bridge, built by the owner of
the island, and of the neighbouring shore, enables
you to reach it with ease. It lies about half-way
between Chippewa and the Falls, on the Briti^
side. The whole surface of the great stream is
broken into a long cascade, each leap of which is

366 The Falls of Niagara,

made with more swiftness than the one before. It is
a wild tumultuous scene, and forms a fit prelude to
the spectacle to which it leads. Accidents occasion-
ally happen here also. Just before I visited it, a
little child had strayed from a party with whom she
was, and must have fallen into the stream, as she was
never seen again after being missed.

Some years ago, a number of people in the neigh-
bourhood formed the strange wish to see a boat
laden with a variety of animals, go down these rapids
and over the Falls. It was a cruel and idle curiosity
which could dictate such a thought, but they ma-
naged to get money enough to purchase a bear and
some other animals, which were duly launched, un-
piloted, from the shore near Chippewa. From what-
ever instinctive sense of danger it would be impossible
to say, the creatures appeared very soon to be alarmed.
The bear jumped overboard on seeing the mist of the
Falls, as the people on the spot say, and by great
efforts, managed to swim across so far that he was
carried down to Goat Island. The other animals
likewise tried to escape, but in vain. The only
living creatures that remained in the boat were some
geese, which could not h&ve escaped if they had
wished, their wings having been cut short. They
went over, and several were killed at once, though,
curiously enough, some managed, by fluttering, to
get beyond the crushing blow of the descending
water, and reached the shore in safety. \},

367

CHAPTER XXIII.

The suspension-bridge at Niagara — The whirlpool — The
battle of Lundy'a Lane — Brock's monument — A soldier
nearly drowned.

Two miles below the Falls an attraction presents
itself now, that was not in existence when I first
visited them, though I have seen it often since : the
Great Suspension Bridge over the chasm through
which the river flows below. Made entirely of iron
wire, twisted into ropes and cables of all sizes, the
largest measuring ten inches through, and contain-
ing about four thousand miles of wire, it stretches in
a road twenty-four feet in breadth, in two stories, the
under one for foot passengers and carriages, the other,
twenty-eight feet above it, for a steady stream of
railway trains, at the height of two hundred and fifty
feet over the deep rushing waters, for eight himdred
feet, from the Canadian to the American shore. Two
huge towers, rising nearly ninety feet on the Ame-
rican side, and nearly eighty on the British, bear up
the vast fabric, which is firmly anchored in solid
masonry built into the ground beyond. It is hard to
believe what is nevertheless the fact, that the airy
and elegant thing thus hanging over tjie gulf is by

ft.' '■

if %

368 T/ie WhirljiooL

no means so light as it looks, but weighs fully eight
hundred tons. When you step on it and feel it
tremble beneath any passing waggon, the thought of
trains going over it seems like sending them to certain
destruction. Yet they do go, hour after hour, and
have done so safely for years, the only precaution
observed being to creep along at the slowest walk.
It is open at the sides — that is, you can see up and
down the river, and over into the awful abyss, but I
my head is not steady enough to stand looking into
such a depth. How Blondin could pass over i>n his
rope has always been incomprehensible to me ; the
bridge itself was not broad enough for my nerves.
Yet he performed his wonderful feat again and again,
close by, and each time with accumulated difficulties,
until, when the Prince of Wales visited Niagara, he
actually carried over a man on his back from the
Canadian to the American side, and came back on
stilts a yard high, playing all kinds of antics by the
way.

Every one has heard of the whirlpool at the Falls,
and most of the visitors go down the three miles to
it. To be like others, I also strolled down, but I
was greatly disappointed. I had formed in my mind
a very highly- wrought picture of a terrible roaring
vortex, flying round in foam, at the rate of a great
many miles an hour ; but instead, I found a turn in
the channel, which they told me was the whirlpool ;
though, to my notion, it needed the name to be written

eiglis fully eight
n it and feel it
1, the thought of
ig them to certain
: after hour, and
I only precaution
the slowest walk,
a can see up and
awful abyss, but
tand looking into
1 pass over on his
isible to me; the
rh for my nerves.
it again and again,
lulated difficulties,
isited Niagara, he
is back from the
,nd came back on
8 of antics by the

Ipool at the Falls,
the three miles to
oiled down, but I
)rmed in my mind
a terrible roaring
;he rate of a great
I found a turn in
as the whirlpool;
Lame to be written

The Whirlpool, 369

over it to enal^lo one to know what it was, like the
badly-painted sign, on which the artist infbrinod
the passer-by, iu largo letters, " This is a horse."
I dare say it would have whirled quite enough
for my taste had I been in it, but from the brow
of the chasm it seems to take things very lei-
surely indeed, as if it were treacle, rather than
water. There are stories about the strength of the
current, however, that shows it to be greater than is
apparent from a little distance. A deserter, some
ypars ago, tried to get over below the Falls to
the American side on no better conveyance than a
huge plank. But the stream was stronger than he
had supposed ; and in spite of all his efforts, he was
forced down to this circling horror, which speedily
sent him and his plank round and round in gradually
contracting whirls, until, after a time, they reached
the centre. There was no pushing out, and the
poor wretch was kept revolving, with each end of his
support sunk in the vortex by turns, requiring him
to crawl backwards and forwards unceasingly for
more than a day, before means were found to bring
hun to land. Somebody said at the time that he
would surely become an expert circumnavigator
after such a training ; but his miraculous escape has
most probably not induced many others to make the
same venturesome voyage.

The village of Drummondville, a little back from
the Falls, on the British side, is memorable as the

) ':•

870

A Sad Mistake,

%'--^

scene of the Battle of Lundy's Lane, in the war of
1812 — 1814. I was fortunate enough to meet with an
intelligent man who, when a boy, had seen the battle
from a distance ; and he went with me over the ground.
In passing through a gardeii, on which a fine crop ol
Indian corn was waving, he stopped to tell me that
on the evening after the battle, he saw a number of
soldiers come to this spot, which was then an open
field, and commence digging a great pit. Curious to
know all they were doing, he went up and stood
beside them, and found it was a grave for a' number
of poor fellows who had been shot by mistake in the
darkness of the night before. An aide-de-camp had
been sent off in hot haste down to Queenston from
the battle, to order up reinforcements as quickly as
possible, and had been obeyed so promptly that our
forces on the field could not believe they had come
when they heard them marching up the hill, but
supposing they must be Americans, fired a volley of
both cannon and musketry into their ranks. There
they lie now, without any memorial, in a private
garden, which is dug up every year, and replanted
over their bones, as if there were no such wreck of
brave hearts sleeping below. In the churchyard
there were a number of tablets of wood, instead of
stone, marking the graves of oflScers slain in the
conflict. I picked up more than one which had rotted
off at the ground, and were lying wherever the wind
had carried them. Peach-trees, laden with finiit,

The Seneca Indians,

871

hung over and amidst the graves, and sheep were
nibbling the grass. But what seemed the most vivid
reminiscence of the strife was a wooden house, to
which my guide led me, the sides and ends of which
were perforated with a great number of holes
made on the day by musket-balls ; a larger hole
here and there, shewing where a cannon had also
sent its missile through it. I was surprised to see it
inhabited with so many apertures imstopped outside ;
but perhaps it was plastered within.

Every part of the Niagara frontier has, indeed, its
own story of war and death. On the way to
Queenston I passed a gloomy chasm, into which
the waters of a small stream, called the Bloody Run,
fall, on their course to the river. It got its name
from an incident in the old French war, very
characteristic of the times and the country. A
detachment of British troops was marching up the
banks of the Niagara with a convoy of waggons, and
had reached this point, when a band of Seneca
Indians, in the service of the French, leaped out from
the woods immediately over the precipice, and utter-
ing from all sides their terrible war-whoop, rushed
down, pouring in a deadly volley as they closed, and
hurled them and all they had, soldiers, waggons,
horses, and drivers, over the cliff into the abyss
below, where they were dashed to pieces on the rocks.
It was the work almost of a moment ; they were
gone before they could collect themselves together, or

. Bb2

liiii

l:li'

111''

■J^^^^^wi

872 BrocUs Monument,

realize their position. The little stream -was red
with their blood, and ont of the whole number only
two escaped — the one a soldier, who, as by miracle
got back, imder cover of night, to Fort Niagara, at
the edge of Lake Ontario ; the other a gentleman,
who spurred his horse through the horde of savages
on the first moment of the alarm, and got off in
safety. My attention was drawn, as I got farther on,
to the monument of General Brock, killed at the
battle of Queenston, in 1812, which stands near the
village of that name, on a fine height close to the
edge of the river. It is a beautiful object when
viewed from a distance, and no less so on a near
approach, and is, I think, as yet, the only public
monument in the western province. I had often
heard it spoken of with admiration before I saw it,
and could easily understand why it was so. I could
not but feel that besides being a tribute to the
memory of the illustrious dead, it served also to
keep alive through successive generations an en-
thusiastic feeling of patriotism and of •» resolute
devotion to duty.

Taking the steamer at Queenston, which is a small,
lifeless place, I now struck out on the waters of
Ontario, to see Toronto once more. As we entered
the lake, I was amused by the remark of an Irish
lad, evidently fresh from his native island. LeaniDg
close by me over the side of the vessel, be suddenly
turned round from a deep musing, in which he had

■.'■iV

A Soldier nearly Drowned, 373

been absorbed, and broke out — " Och, sir ! what a
dale o' fine land thim lakes cover I" Such a thought
in a country where a boundless wilderness stretches
so closely in one unbroken line, seemed inexpressibly
ludicrous, not to speak of the uselessness of all tho
land that was " uncovered," if there had been no
lakes to facilitate passage from one point to another.
As we left the wharf at the town of Niagara, which
stands at the mouth of the river, on the lake, a greaft
stir was caused for a short time 'oy a soldier of the
Kifles having been tumbled into the water, and
nearly drowned, through the stupidity of a poor
Connaughtman who was in charge of the plank by
which those who were leaving the steamer, before she
started, were to reach the shore. He was in such a
breathless hurry and wild excitement, that he would
hardly leave it in its place while the visitors were
crowding out ; once and again he had made a snatch
at it, only to have some one put his foot on it, and
run off. At last, the soldier came, but just as he
made a step on it, the fellow, who had his faice to the
shore, and saw nothing except the crowd, gave it
a pull, and down went the man into the water,
cutting his chin badly in falling. He evidently
could not swim, and sank almost at once, but he
came up to find ropes thrown out for him to cling
to. But somehow he could not catch them, and he
would, in another moment, have gone down again.
Luckily, however, some one had sense enough to

lil

i;'^'^

»i'i-

874

A Colonel's Kindness,

tlirust down a broad ladder, which was standing
near, and up this he managed to climb, we holding
the top steady till he did so. Every attention was
instantly paid him; and I dare say the mishap did
him no harm beyond the ducking. In a few minutes
he was ashore again ; and I was delighted to see the
colonel, who happened to be present, give him his
arm, and walk away with him, talking kindly to
him as they went.

t .-

875

CHAPTER XXIV.

The Canadian lakes— The exile's love of home — The coloured
people in Canada — Rice — ^The Maid of the Mist — Home-
spun cloth — A narrow road — A grumbler — New England
emigrants — A potato- pit —The winter's wood.

"What vast sheets of water the lakes of Canada are I
Beginning, in the far north-west, with Superior,
nearly as large as all Scotland, we have Michigan,
Huron, Erie, and Ontario, in succession, each more lika
a sea than a lake. On crossing them, you have no land
in sight any more than on the ocean; and, like it, they
have whole fleets on them, all through the season of
navigation. They yield vast sums from their fisheries,
and their waves wash shores as extensive as those of
many kingdoms. It is striking how gigantic is the
proportion of everything in nature in the New "World.
Vast lakes and rivers, the wonderful Niagara, end-
less forests, and boundless praii'ies — all these form a
great contrast to the aspects of nature in Europe.
The chain of lakes, altogether, stretch over more
than a thousand miles, with very short intervals
between any of them, and none between some.
Even Ontario, which is the smallest, is nine times
as long, and from twice to four times as broad, as the
sea between Dover and Calais. I could not help

! :(

876 T/ie Exile's Love of Home.

thinking of the fact that there were men still living
who remembered when the Indians had possession
of nearly all the shore of Lake Ontario, and when
only two or three of their wigwams stood on the
site of the town to which I was then sailing. I
found Toronto much increased since my first visit to
it — its streets macadamized in some places, pave-
ments of plank laid down on the sides of several, the
houses better, and the shops more attractive. When
we first came, it was as muddy a place as could be
imagined; but a few years work wonders in a new
•country like Canada. There was now no fear of a
lady losing her India-rubber overshoes in crossing
the street, as one of my sisters had done on our first
coming, nor were waggons to be seen stuck hard
and fast in the very heart of the town. I found my
married sister comfortably established, and spent
a very pleasant time with her and her husband.
There is, however, not much to see in Toronto even
now, and still less at that time. It lies very low near
the lake, though the ground rises as it recedes firom
it. The neighbourhood is rather uninteresting, to
my taste, from the tameness of the scenery. It is
an English town, however, in its feelings and out-
ward life, and that made it delightful. It is beau-
tiful to see how true-hearted nearly everyone be-
comes to his mother-country when he has left it.
There has often seemed to me to be more real love
of Britain out of it than in it, as if it needed to be

lome.

•e men still living
19 had possession
'ntario, and when
ms stood on the
1 then sailing. I
e my first visit to
>me places, pave-
des of several, the
attractive. When
place as could be
yronders in a new
now no fear of a
:shoes in crossing
. done on our first
seen stuck hard
wn. I found my
ished, and spent
md her husband.
3 in Toronto even
lies very low near
as it recedes from
uninteresting, to
le scenery. It is
feelings and out-
tful. It is beau-
irly everyone be-
en he has left it.
be more real love
if it needed to be

Loyalty of the Canadians, 377

contemplated from a distance, in order thoroughly
to appreciate all its claims upon our love and respect.
In Canada almost everyone is a busy local politician,
deeply immersed in party squabbles and manoeuvres,
and often separate d by them from hia neighbour.
But let the magic name of " home" be mentioned,
and the remembrance of the once-familiar land causes
every other thought to be forgotten. In the time of
the Rebellion in 1837, before we came out, it was
found that although multitudes had talked wildly
enough while things were all quiet, the moment it
was proposed to rise against England, the British-
born part of them, and many native Canadians as
well, at once went over to the old flag, to defend
it, if necessary, with their lives. And when it
seemed as if England needed help in the time of the
war with Russia, Canada came forward in a moment,
of her own accord, and raised a regiment to aid in
fighting her battles, and serve her in any part of the
world. Later still, when the Prince of Wales went
over, they gave him such a reception as showed their
loyalty most nobly. Through the whole province it
seemed as if the population were smitten with an
universal enthusiasm, and despaired of exhibiting it
sufficiently. And but yesterday, when rumours of
war rose once more, the whole people were kindled
in a moment with a loyal zeal.

I was very much struck, on this trip, with the
number of coloured people who have found a refuge

lliljii

'''.

III i

' ■(

nfi

ft s

378 T/ie Coloured People,

in Canada. In all the hotels, most of the waiters,
and a large proportion of the cooks, seemed to be
coloured. They take to these employments na-
turally, and never appear to feel themselves in
greater glory than when fussing about the table at
meals, or wielding the basting-ladle in the kitchen.
They very seldom turn to trades, and even their
children, as they grow up, are not much more in-
clined to them. I used to think it was, perhaps,
because, as slaves, they might not have learned trades,
but this would not apply to those born in Canada
who might learn them if they liked. They become;
instead, whitewashers, barbers, or waiters, and cooks
like their fathers before them. I was told, however,
that they are a well-conducted set of people, rarely
committing any crimes, and very temperate. They
have places of worship of their own, and I was
amused by a friend telling us, one night, how he had
met their minister going home, carrying a piece of
raw beef at his side by a string, and how, when he
had one evening gone to their chapel, the official, a
coloured man, had told him that " the folks had
tu'ned out raither lean in the mo'nin, and, 'sides,
the wood's sho't — so I guess we sha'n't open to-
night." Poor, simple creatures, it is, indeed, a grand
thing that there is a home open for them like Canada,
where they can have the full enjoyment of liberty.
Long may the red cross of St. George wave an invi-
tation to their persecuted race to come and find a
refuge imder its shadow !

Hamilton*

379

t of the waiters,
:s, seemed to be
mployments na-
l themselves in
out the table at
J in the kitchen.

and even theb

much more in-
it was, perhaps,
ire learned trades,
born in Canada,
. They become,
aiters, and cooks,
as told, however,
of people, rarely
jmperate. They
Dwn, and I was
ight, how he had
Trying a piece of
id how, when he
3el, the official, a

"the folks had
)'nin, and, 'sides,

ha'n't open to-
3, indeed, a grand
;hem like Canada,

ment of liberty,
ge wave an invi-

come and find a

I went home again by way of Hamilton, to which
I crossed in a steamer. The white houses, peeping
tlirough the woods, were a pretty sight at the places
where we stopped, the larger ones standing on all
sides, detached, in the midst of pleasant grass and
trees; the others, in the villages, built with an easy
variety of shape and size that could hardly be seen
in an older country. The tin spires of churches
rose, every here and there, brightly through the
trees, reminding one that the faith of his dear native
land had not been forgotten, but was cherished as
fondly in the lonely wilderness as it had been at
home. Hamilton, the only town of Canada West
with a hill near it, gave me a day's pleasure in a
visit to a friend, and a rai 'ble over " the mountain,'!
as they call the ridge behind it. The sight of streets
built of stone, instead of w^oJ, or brick, was posi-
tively delightful, bringing one in mind of the stability
of an older country. " Hav^e you ever seen any of
this ?" said my friend, when we were back in his
room, and he handed me a grain different from
any I had ever noticed before. I said I had not.
It was rice; got from Kice Lake when he was
down there lately. The lake lies a little north
of Cobourg, which is seventy miles or so below
Toronto. He was very much pleased with his trip.
The road to it lies, after leaving Cobourg, through a
fine farming country for some distance, and then you
get on what the folks call * the plains' — great reaches
of sandy soil, covered with low, scrubby oak bushes,

lliiii

;ili;ii

380

Lake JRice,

thick with filberts. As you get to the lake, the
view is really beautiful, while the leaves are out.
The road stretches on through avenues of green, and,
at last, when you get nearer, there are charm iriT
peeps of the water through a fringe of beautiful
trees, and over and through a world of creepers,
and vines, and bushes of all sorts. The rice grows
only in the shallow borders of the lake, rising in
beds along the shore, from the deep mud, in which
it takes root. It looks curious to see grain in the
middle of water. The Indians have it left to them
as a perquisite, and they come when it gets ripe, and
gather it in their canoes, sailing along and bending
down the ears over the edges of their frail vessels,
and beating out the rice as they do so. They get a
good deal of shooting as well as rice, for the ducks
and wild fowl are as fond of the ears as themselves,
and flock in great numbers to get a share of them.
There are great beds along the shores of the Georgian
Bay, on Lake Huron, as well as on Rice Lake, but
there also it is left to the Indians.

Of course I was full of my recent visit to the
Falls, and dosed my friend with all the details which
occurred to me. He had noticed, like me, hoAv the
windows rattle unceasingly in the neighbourhood,
from the concussion of the air, and told me of a cu-
rious consequence of the dampness, from the minute
powdery spray that floats far in every direction ; —
that they could not keep a piano from warping and

to the lake, the
I leaves are out.
lUes of green, and,
jre are charm in^
nge of beautiful
orld of creepers,
The rice grows
le lake, rising in
sep mud, in which

see grain in the
ve it left to them
n it gets ripe, and
ong and bending
heir frail vessels,
> so. They get a
ice, for the ducks
ira as themselves,

a share of them,
es of the Georgian
Q Rice Lake, but

Bcent visit to the

the details which

like me, how the

e neighbourhood,

told me of a cu-

from the minute

very direction ; —

from warping and

ne " Maid of the Mist:' 881

getting out of tune, even as far as a mile from the
Falls, near the river's edge. The glorious sunrise I
had seen from Drummondville came back again to
my thoughts ; how, on rising early one morning, the
groat cloud at the Falls, and the long swathe of
vapour that lay over the chasm for miles below, had
been changed into gold by the light, and shone like
the gates of heaven ; and I remembered how I had
been struck with a great purple vine near the river's
edge, which, after climbing a lofty elm that had been
struck and withered by lightning, flung its arms,
waving far, into the air. " Did you see the Maid of
the Mist ?" he asked. Of course I had, and we talked
of it ; how the little steamer plies, many times a day,
from the landing-places, close up to the Falls, going
sometimes so near that you stand on the bank, far
above, in anxious excitement lest it should be sucked
into the cauldron and perish at once. I have stood
tlius wondering if the paddles would ever get her out
of the white foam into which she had pressed, and it
seemed as if, though they were doing their utmost, it
was a terrible time before they gained their point.
If any accident were to happen to the machinery, woe
to those on board I As it is, they get drenched, in
spite of oil-skin dresses, and must be heartily glad
when they reach firm footing once more.

I was sorry when I had to leave and turn my face
once more towards home. As the stage drove on, the
jroads being still in their best condition, I had leisure

iiii;

!!,

I i

882 Homespun Clothe

to notice everytliing. The quantity of honiespim
grey woollen cloth, worn by the farmers and coimtrv
people, was very much greater than I had seen it iu
previous years, and was in admirable keeping with
the country around. The wives and daughters in
the farmhouses have a good deal to do in its manu-
facture. The wool is taken to the mill to get cleaned,
a certain weight being kept back from each lot in
payment; then the snowy- white fleece is twisted
into rolls, and in that condition it is taken back by
its owners to be spun into yarn at home. I Ijke the
hum of the spinning-wheel amazingly, and have often
waited to look at some tidy girl, walking backwards
and forwards at her task, at each approach sending
off another hum, as she drives the wheel round
once more. But the cloth is not made at home. The
mill gets the yarn when finished, and weaves it into
the homely useful fabric I saw everywhere around.
At one place we had an awkward stoppage on a
piece of narrow corduroy road. There happened to
be a turn in it, so that the one end could not be seen
from the other, and we had got on some distance,
bumping dreadfiilly from log to log, when a waggon
made its appearance coming towards us. It could
not pass and it could not turn, and there was water
at both sides. What was to be done ? It was a
great question for the two drivers. Their tongues
went at a great rate at each other for a while, but,
after a time, they cooled down enough to discuss the

ity of homespun

A Grumlling Scotchman, 883

fiitiiation, as two stateanien would tho tlireatoned
collision of empires. They finally solved the diffi-
culty by unyoking the liorscs from the waggon, and
jjushing it back over tho logs with infinite troul)le,
after tsiking out as much of the load as was necessary.
Of course the passengers helped with right goodwill,
turning the wheels, and straining this way and that,
till the road was clear, when we drove on once more.
The bridge at Brantford, when we reached it, was
broken down, having remained so since tho last
spring floods, when it had been swept away by the ice
and water together, and the coach had to get through
the stream as well as it could. The horses behaved well,
the vehicle itself slipped and bumped over and against
the stones at the bottom ; but it got a cleaning that it
very much needed, and neither it nor we took any
harm. A great lumpish farmer, who travelled with
me, helped to pass the time by his curious notions
and wonderful power of grumbling. A person beside
him, who appeared to know his ways, dragged him
into converse *,ion, whether he would or not. He
maintained there was nothing in Canada like what
he had seen in Scotland; his wheat had been de-
stroyed by the midge, year after year, or by the rust;
his potatoes, he averred, had never done well, and
everything else had been alike miserable. At last he
seemed to have got through his lamentations, and his
neighbour struck in — " "Well, at any rate, Mr.
H'Craw, you can't say but your turnips are first rate

iiiiiiii

384.

. An Irish Labourer,

\'^s

this year ; why one of them will fill a bucket when
you cut it up for the cattle." But Mr. M'Craw was
not to be beaten, and had a ready answer. " They're
far owi*e guid — I'll never be fit to use them — the half
o' them 'ill rot in the grund, if they dinna choke the
puir kye wi the size o' them." The whole of us
laiighed, but Mr. M'Craw only shook his head. As
we were trotting along we overtook an Irishman — a
labouring man — and were hailed by him as we
passed. " Will ye take us to Ingersoll for a quarter
(an English shilling)?" The driver puUe^ up —
made some objections, but at last consented, and
Paddy instantly pulled out his money, and reached it
into the hand which was stretched down to receive
it. *' Jump in, now — quick." But, indeed, he
needn't have said it, he was only too anxious to do
so. The coach window was down, and the pane being
large, a good- sized opening was left. In a moment
Pat was on the step below ; the next, first one leg
came through the window-frame, amidst our un-
limited laughter ; then the body tried to foUow, but
this was no easy business. " Wait a minit. I'll be
thro' in a minit," he shouted to us. " Get out, man,
do ye no ken the use o' a door ?" urged Mr. M'Craw.
But in the meantime Pat had crushed himself
through, in some way, and had landed in an extraor-
dinary fashion, as gently as he could, across our
knees. We soon got him into his seat, but it was
long before we ceased laughing at the adventure. He

A Gentleman a:id Ids Dog, 385

could never have been in a coach in his life before.
I saw a misfortune happen in an omnibus some years
after, on the way down to Toronto from the North,
which was the only thing to be compared to it for its
effect on the risible powers of the spectators. A
gentleman travelling with me then, had a favourite
dog with him, which he was very much afraid he
might lose, but which the driver would not allow him
to take inside. At every stoppage the first thought
of both man and beast seemed the same, to see if all
was right with the other. The back of the omnibus
was low, and the dog was eager to get in, but he and
his master could only confer with each other from
opposite sides of the door. At last, as we got near
;he town we came to a halt once more. The gen-
tleman was all anxiety about his dog. For the
fiftieth time he put his head to the window to see if
everything was right. But it happened that, just as
he did so, the dog was in full flight for the same .
opening, having summoned up all his strength for
a terrible jump through the only entrance, and
reached it at the ?ame moment as his master's face,
against which he came with a force which sent him-
self back to the ground and sorely disturbed his -
owner's composure. It was lucky the animal was not
very large, else it might have done serious damage ;
as it was, an astounding shock was the only apparent
result. It was a pity he was hurt at all, but the
thought of blocking off the dog with his face, as you

•■

,■■ !■

386 y^ew England Emigrants.

do a cricket ball with a bat, and the sublime astonish-
ment of both dog and man at the collision, were
irresistibly ludicrous.

On our way from London to Lake Huron we came
on a curious sight at the side of the road — a New
England family, on their way from Vermont to Michi-
gan, travelling, and living, in a waggon, like the Scy-
thians of old. The waggon was of comparatively
slight construction, and was arched over with a white
canvas roof, so as to serve for a conveyance by day,
and a bedroom by night, though it must have been
hard work to get a man and his wife, and some
children, all duly stretched out at full length, packed
into it. Some of them, I suppose, took advantage
of wayside inns for their nightly lodging, A thin
pipe, projecting at the back, showed that they had a
small stove with them, to cook their meals. Two
cows were slowly walking behind, the man himself
driving them ; and a tin pail, hanging on the front
of the waggon, spoke of part of their milk being in
the process of churning into butter by the shaking
on the way. They were very respectable looking
people — as nearly all New Englanders are — and had,
no doubt, sold off their property, whatever it might
have been, in their native State, to go in search of a
new " location," as they call it — that is, a fresh
settlement in the Far West, with the praises of which,
at that time, the country was frill. It must have
taken them a very long time to get so far at such

New Etigland Emigrants, 387

a snail's pace; but time would eventually take a
snail round the world, if it had enough of it, and
they seemed to lay no stress whatever on the rate
of their progress. They had two horses, two cows,
and the waggon, to take with them, until they
should reach their new neighbourhood; and to ac-
complish that was worth some delay. One of my
fellow-travellers told me that such waggon-loads
were then an every-day sight on the road past
Brantford; and, indeed, I can easily believe it.
Michigan was then a garden of Eden, according
to popular report ; but it was not long in losing its
fame, which passed to Wisconsin, and from that, has
passed to other States or territories since. The
New England folks are as much given to leaving their
own country as any people, and much more than
most. Their own States are too poor to keep them
well at home ; and they have energy, shrewdness, and
very often high principle, which make them wel-
come in any place where they may choose to settle in
preference. I know parts in some of the New
England States where there are hardly any young
men or young women ; they have left for the towns
and cities more or less remote, where they can best
push their fortunes. It is the same very much in
Nova Scotia, and, indeed, must be so with all poor
countries.

I was very glad, when I got home, to find all my
circle quite well, and had a busy time of it for a

cc2

!' i'JF

Ijlij

iilili

ill

,.:s'

8S8

A Potato Pit,

good while, telling them all I had seen and heard.
They were busy with their fall-work — getting the
potatoes and turnips put into pits, to keep them from
the frost when it should set in, and getting ready a
great stock of firewood. Our pit was a curious
affair, which I should have mentioned earlier, since
we made it in the second fall we were on the river.
We dug a great hole like a grave, many feet deep,
large enough to hold a hundred bushels of potatoes,
and I don't know what besides. The bottom of this
excavation was then strewed with loose boar Is, and
tlie sides were walled round with logs, set up side by
side, to keep the earth from falling in. On the top,
instead of a roof, Ave laid a floor of similar logs, close
together, and on tliis we heaped up earth to the
thickness of about three feet, to keep out the cold,
however severe it might be. The entrance was at
one end, down a short ladder, which brought you to
a door, roughly fitted in. The first year it was made,
we paid for imperfect acquaintance with such things
by bringing a heavy loss on ourselves. We had put
in eighty bushels of potatoes, and, to keep out the
least trace of frost, filled up the hole where the ladder
was with earth. But in the spring when we opened
the pit to get out our seed, we found the whole heap
to be worthless. I remember the day very well ; it
was very bright and beautiful, and we were all in high
spirits. The earth was removed firom the ladder end
iix a very short time, and young Grahame, one of a

The Winter's Wood,

389

neighbour's boys, asked leave to go in first, and bring
out the first basketful. Down he leaped, pulled open
the door, and crept in. We waited a minute, but
there was no sign of his coming out again. Wo
called to him, but got no answer ; and at last I
jumped down to find the poor little fellow overpowered
from the effects of the carbonic acid gas, with which
the pit was filled. The earth at the ladder end had
entirely prevented the necessary ventilation, and the
potatoes had "heated," and had become perfectly
rotten. We managed better after this by putting
straw instead of earth into the opening ; but the
right plan would have been to sink a small hollow
tube of wood — a slender piece of some young tree,
with the middle scooped out, through the top, to
serve as a ventilator. It was a great loss to us, as
the potatoes were then at the unusual price of a
dollar a bushel, and eighty dollars were to us, at that
time, a small fortune.

The laying in the winter's wood was a tedious
affair : it was cut in the fall, and part of it dragged
by the oxen to the house in the shape of long logs ;
but we left the greater part of the drawing till the
snow came. It was a nasty job to cut off each day
what would serve the kitchen, and keep the fires
brisk ; and I sometimes even yet feel a twinge of
conscience at the way I used to dole out a fixed
number of pieces to my sisters, keeping it as small
as possible, and much smaller than it should have

i, ; ■■
Ij

i
1

III

ii
1

ii«i!!!

890 C^opphiff Firewood.

been, I was willing enough to work at moat thinf^s
and can't blame myself for being lazy ; but to get up
from the warm fire on a cold morning to chop fire-
wood, was freezing work ; though this should certainly
not have kept me from cutting a few more sticks
afler all. I am afraid we are too apt to be selfish in
these trifles, even when we are the very reverse in
things of more moment. If I had the chance, now I
am older, I think I would atone for my stinginess,
cost me what freezing it might.

V "■

391

CHAPTER XXV.

Thoughts for the future — Changes —Too-hard study — Edu-
cation in Canada — Christmas markets — Winter amuse-
ments — Ice-boats — Very cold ice — Oil-springs — Changes
on the farm — Growth of Canada — The American climate
— Old England again.

"When we had been five years on the farm, and
Henry, and I, and the girls, were now getting
to be men and women, the question of what we
should do to get started in the world, became more
and more pressing. Robert wished to get married ;
Henry and I, and the two girls, all alike, wanted to
be off; and the farm was clearly unfit to support
more than one household. It took a long time for
us to come to any conclusion, but at last we decided
that Robert should have the land, that the girls should
be sent for a time to a school down the country, and
Henry and I should go to Toronto, he to study
medicine, and I law. Of course, all this could not
be managed at once, but it was greatly facilitated by
remittances from my brothers in England, who un-
dertook by far the larger proportion of the cost. I
confess I felt more sorrow at leaving the old place
than I had expected, though it was still for years to
be my home whenever I got free for a time ; and it

liiil

392 Too-hard Stncli/.

was long before I could get fairly into Blackstone,
and Chitty, and Smith. Had I known how my life
would ultimately turn, I don't think I should ever
have troubled them, for here I am now, my law laid
aside, snugly in England again, a partner in the
mercantile establishment of my brothers, who had
continued at home. I did not like the law in its
every-d;iy detfiils of business, though all must recog-
nise the mnjesty of the great principles on which the
whole fabric rests; and I got tired utterly of the
country, at last, perhaps from failing health, for I
bent with too much zeal to my studies when I once
began. The chance of leaving Canada for my native
land was thus imspeakably pleasing ; and it has re-
warded the gratitude with which I once more reached
it, by giving me back a good part of the strength I
had lost. When I look back on the years I spent
over my books, and remember how I presumed on
my youth, and tasked mvself, night and day, to con-
tinuous work, it seems as if my folly had only been
matched by my guilt. To undermine our health is
to trifle with all our advantages at once. Honest,
earnest work, is all well enough, and nobody can
ever be anything without it, but if there be too much
of it, it defeats its own object, and leaves him who
has overtaxed himself behind those who have made
a more discreet use of their strength. I would
gladly give half of what I learned by all my years
of close study, for some of the health I lost in
acquiring it. Indeed, I question if I gained more,

. TooJmrd Studi/. 393

after all, by fagginj*, on with a wearied body and
mind, than I would, if I had taken proper relaxation
and amusement, and returned fresh and vigorous
to my books. The Genoese archers lost the V)attlo
of Cressy by a shower falling on their bow-strings,
while those on our side gained it by having had their
weapons safely in cases till the clouds were past. So,
no doubt, it should be in our management of those
powers within, on which our success in student life
depends — let them be safely shielded betimes, and
they will be fresh for action when others are relaxed
and useless. IIow much time is spent when the
mind is wearied, Avithout our being able to retain
anything of what we read ! How often have I closed
ray book, at last, with the feeling, that, really, it might
as well have been shut long before. I read in the
office, and out of it, whenever I had a chance ; had
some book or other on the table at my meals ; kept
rigidly from visiting friends, that I might economize
every moment ; poked my fire, and lighted a fresh
candle at midnight, and gained some knowledge,
indeed, but at the cost of white, or rather yellow
cheeks — a stoop of the shoulders, and a hollow
chest — cold feet, I fear, for life, and a stomach so
weak that I am seldom without a memento of my
folly in the pain it gives me. An hour or two in the
open air every day would have saved me all these
abatements, and would have quickened my powers of
work so as more than to make up for their being in-
dulged in a little play.

I r

111'!'

89i>

Education in Canada,

Since my day, great facilities have been afforclcd
in Canada for education. There are now grammar-
schools, with very moderate fees, in every part of the
country, and a lad or young man can very easily get
a scholarship which takes him free through the Uni-
versity at Toronto.* Every county has one or more
to give away each year. There is thus every chance
for those who wish to rise, and Canada will no doubt
show some notable results from the facility she has
liberally provided for the encouragement of native
genius ani talent. ^

' My being for a length of time in a town showed
me new features of our colonial life which I should
in vain have looked for in the country. In many
respects I might easily have forgotten I was in Canada
at all, for you might as well speak of getting a correct
idea of England from living in a provincial town, as
of Canada by living in the streets of Toronto. The
dress ot the people is much the same as in Britain.
Hats and light overcoats are not entirely laid aside
even in winter, though fur caps and gauntlets, after
all, are much more common. The ladies sweep along
with more show than in England, as if they dressed
for out-of-door display especially; but they are, no
doubt, tempted to this by the clearness and dryness

* The University has been long established, but since I
attended its classes, it has been put on a more liberal basis —
the number of chairs enlarged, and facilities for obtaining its
advantages greatly increased. ^^

Christmas Mar. s.

395

of the air, which neither soils noi Mj'ires *' > things,
as the coal-dust and the dampness do in English
towns. The most plainly-dressed ladies I used to see
were the wife and daughters of the Governor-general.

The markets at Christmas were usually a greater
attraction to many people tlian they used to be ia
England. If the weather chanced to be cold, you
would see huge files of frozen pigs standing on their
four logs in front of the stalls, as if they had been
killed when at a gallop ; countless sheep hung over-
head, with here and there one of their heads carefully
gilded, to add splendour to the exhibition. Some
deer were almost always to be noticed at some of the
stalls, and it was not unusual to see the carcase of a
bear contributing its part to the general show. As
to the oxen, they were too fat for my taste, though
the butchers seemed to be proud of them in propor-
tion to their obesity. The market was not confined
to a special building, though there was one for the
purpose. Long ranges of farmers' waggons, ranged
at each side of it, showed similar treasures of fi-ozen
pork and mutton, the animals standing entire at the
feet of their owners, who sat among them waiting for
purchasers. Frozen geese, ducks, chickens, and tur-
keys abounded, and that household was very poor in-
deed which had not one or other to grace the festival.

Winter was a great time for amusement to the
townspeople. Trom the nearness of the broad bay
which in summer forms their harbour, and, after the

890

irinfer Amnsements.

frost, their placo of recreation. It -was gonorully
turned into a great sheet of ice ncroas its whole
breadtli of two miles, some time about Cliristnias,
ami contiinied like rock till the middle of April. As
long as there were no heavy falls of snow to l)ury it,
or after tlioy had been blown off by tlie wind, the
skating was universal. Boys and men alike gave
way to the passion for it. The ice was covered with
one restless throng from morning to niglit. School-
boys made for it as soon as they got free ; the clerks
and shopmen were down the instant the shuttei^s were
lip and the doors fastened ; even ladies crowded to it,
either to skate with the assistance of some gentle-
man, or to see the crowd, or to be pushed along in
chairs mounted on runners. The games of different
kinds played between large numbers were very ex-
citing. Scotchmen with their " curling," others with
balls, battering them hither and thither, in desperate
efforts to carry them to a particular boundary. Then
there were the ice-boats gliding along in every direc-
tion, with their loads of well-dressed people reclining
on them, and their huge sail swelling overhead.
These contrivances were new to me, though I had
been so long in Canada. They consist of a three-
cornered frame of wood, large enough to give room
for five or six people lying down or sitting on them,
the upper side boarded over, and the lower shod ou
each angle with an iron runner. A mast and sail
near the sharp point which goes foremost furnish the

was gcneriilly
TOSS its wliolo
Hit Cliristiuas,
J of Ai)ril. As
10 w to bury it,
the wind, tlie
lien alike gave
IS covered -with
light. School-
ree; the clerks
10 shutters were
s crowded to it,
)f some gcntlc-
aished along in
mes of different
3 were very ex-
ig," others with
ler, in desperate
oundary. Then
in every direc-
leople reclining
illing overhead,
though I had
sist of a three-
;h to give room
sitting on them,
lower shod on
A. mast and sail
most furnish the

The Ice-trade of Toronto. 397

means of propulsion. The two k)nge8t runners tiro
fixed, but the sliort one at the back is worked by a
helm, the steersman having absolute control of the i »
machine by its aid, and kee))ing within reach the
cleats of the siiil, that ho may loosen or tighten it as
ho sees necessary. Many of the lads about were very
skilful in managing them, and would siiil as close to
tho wind, and veer and tack, as if they »vero in an
ordinary boat in the water, instead of an oddly-shaped
sleigh on ice. A very little wind sufficed to drive
them at a good speed if the ice was good, and there
was a good deal of excitement in watching the cracks
and airholes as you rushed over them. I have seen
them sometimes going with great rapidity. They
say, indeed, that occasionally they cross the harbour
in less than four minutes — a rate of speed equal to
nearly thirty miles an hour.

The ice-trade of Toronto is a considerable branch
of industry during the winter, and gangs of men are
employed for weeks together sawing out great blocks
about two feet scjuare from the parts of the bay where
it is clearest and best for use. These are lilted by
poles furnished with iron hooks, into carts, and taken
to houses specially prepared for keeping them through
the hot weather of the following summer. An ordi-
nary wooden frame building is lined inside with a
wall all round, at from two to three feet from the
outer one, and the space between is fiUed witi; waste
tan bark rammed close, to keep out the heat when it

iii

398 Spring Ice.

comes. In this wintry shelter the cubes of ice are
built up in solid masses, and, when full, the whole is
finally protected by double doors, with a large quan-
tity of straw between them. In the hot months you
may see light carts with cotton coverings stretched
over them in every street, carrying roimd the con-
tents — now broken into moro saleable pieces — the
words " Spring ice" on each side of the white roof
inviting the housekeepers to supply themselves. In
hotels, private dwellings, railway carriages, steamers,
and indeed everywhere, drinking-water in summer is
invariably cooled by lumps of this gelid luxury, and
not a few who take some of the one finish by suck-
ing and swallowing some of the other. I saw an
advertisement lately in a New Orleans paper, begging
the visitors at hotels not to eat the ice in the water-
jugs this season, as, from the war having cut off the
supply fi-om the North, it was very scarce. At table,
in most houses, the butter is regularly surmounted
by a piece of ice, and it seems a regular practice with
some persons at hotels and on steamers to show their
breeding and selfishness by knocking aside this useful
ornament, and taking the piece which it covered, as
the coolest and hardest, leaving the others to put it
up again if they like.

Boiling water never gets hotter than two hundred
and twelve degrees, because, at that heat it flies off in
steam, but ice may be made a great deal colder than
it is when it first freezes. English ice is pretty

Canadian Ice.

399

cold, but it never gets flir below thirty-two degrees,
which is the freezing-point. Canadian ice, on the
other hand, is as much colder as the air of Canada in
which it is formed, is than that of England. Thus
there is much more cold in a piece of ice, of a given
size, from the one country, than in a piece of a similar
size from the other, and where cold is wished to be
produced, as it is in all drinks in summer in hot
climates, Canadian ice is, of course, much more
valuable than any warmer kind would be. The
Americans have long ago thought of this, and have
created a great trade in their ice, which is about as
cold as that of Canada, taking it in ships prepared
very much as the ice-houses are, to India, and many
other countries, where it is sold often at a great profit.
You read of the ice crop as you would hear farmers
speak of their crop of wheat or potatoes. They have
not got so far as this that I know of in Canada, but
if Boston ice can command a good price in Calcutta
or Madras, that of the Lower St. Lawrence should be
able to drive it out of the market, for it is very much
colder. A few inches of it are like a concentrated
portable winter.

In the fine farms round Toronto a great many
fields are without any stumps, sometimes from their
having been cleared so long that the stumps have
rotted out, and sometimes by their having been
pulled out bodily as you would an old tooth, by a
stump machine. It is a simple enough contrivance.

1 ',
I i'

400 Oil Springs.

A great screw is raised over the stnmp on a strong
frame of wood which is made to enclose it ; some
iron grapnels are fastened into it on different sides
and a long pole put sticking out at one side for a horse,
and then — after some twists — away it goes, with far
more ease than would be thought possible. The
outlying roots have, of course, to be cut away first,
and a good deal of digging done, to let the screAv,
and the horse or horses, have every chance, but it is
a much more expeditious plan than any other known
in Canada, and must be a great comfort to the farmer
by letting him plough and harrow without going
round a wilderness of stumps in each field.

A rfingular discovery has been made of late years
about ten miles behind Robert's farm in Bidport, of
wells yielding a constant supply of petroleum, or
rock oil, instead of water. The quantity obtained
is enormous, and as the oil is of a very fine quality
and fit for most ordinary purposes, it is of great
value. Strangely enough, not only in Canada but
also in the States, the same unlooked-for source has
been found, at about the same time, supplying the
same kind of oil. The " wells" of Pennsylvania are
amazingly productive. I have been assured that
there is a small river in one of the townships of
that State, called Oil Creek, which is constantly
covered with a thick coat of oil, from the quantity
that oozes from each side of the banks. The whole
soil around is saturated with it, and this, with the

np on a strong
iclose it; some
. different sides,

side for a horse,
t goes, with far
possible. The

cut away first,
) let the screw,
chance, but it is
ny other known
)rt to the farmer
' without going

field.

ie of late years
n in Bidport, of
f petroleum, or
lantity obtained

ery fine quality
it is of great

in Canada but

1-for source has

}, supplying the
ennsylvania are

n assured that

le townships of
is constantly

m the quantity
s. The whole
this, with the

Oil Springs. 401

necessity of fording the water, has destroyed a great
many valuable horses, which are found to get in-
flamed and useless in the legs by the irritation the
oil causes. Wells are sunk in every part of the
neighbourhood, each of which spouts up oil as an
artesian well does water, and that to such an amazing
extent that, from some of them, hundreds of barrels,
it is affirmed, have been filled in a day. Indeed, there
is one well, which is known by the name of " The
Brawley," which, if we can believe the accounts
given, in sixty days spouted out thirty-three thousand
barrels of oil, and some others are alleged to have
yielded more than two thousand barrels in twenty-
four hours. Unfortunately, preparations had not, in
most cases, been made for catching this extraordinary
quantity, so that a great proportion of it ran off and
was lost. The depth of the wells varies. Some are
close to the surface, but those which yield most are
from five to eight hundred feet deep, and, there, seem
to reach a vast lake of oil which is to all appearance
inexhaustible. They manage to save the whole pro-
duce now by lining the wells, which are mere holes
about six inches in diameter, for some depth with
copper sheathing, and putting a small pipe with
Btop-cocks in at the top, which enables them to con-
trol the flow as easily as they do that of water. If
we think of the vast quantities of coal stored up in
different parts, it will diminish our astonishment at

D D

I '

403 Oil Sprintjfs,

the discovery of these huge reservoirs of oil, for both
seem to have the same source, from the vast beds of
vegetation of the early eras of the globe ; if, indeed,
the oil do not often rise from decomposition of coal
itself, for it occurs chiefly in the coal measures.
We shall no doubt have full scientific accounts of
them, after a time, and as they become familiar we
"vvill lose the feeling of wonder which they raised
at first. Except to the few who are thoughtful,
nothing that is not new and strange seems worthy of
notice ; biit, if we consider aright, what is woncerful
in itself is no less so because we have become accus-
tomed to it. It is one great difference between a
rude and a cultivated mind, that the one has only
a gaping wonder at passing events or discoveries,
while the other seeks to find novelty in what is
already familiar. The one looks only at a result
before him, the other tries to find out causes. The
one only looks at things as a whole, the other dwells
on details and examines the minutest parts. The one
finds food for his curiosity in his first impressions,
and when these fade, turns aside without any farther
interest; the other discovers wonders in things the
most common, insignificant, or apparently worthless.
Science got the beautiful metal — aluminium — out of
the clay which ignorance trod under foot ; through
Sir Humphrey Davy it got iodine out of the scrapings
of soap-kettles which the soap-boilers had always

Changes on the Farm. 403

thrown out, and it extracts the beautii'ul dyes we call
Magenta and Solferino, from coal-tar which used to
be a worthless nuisance near every gas-house.

My brother Robert's farm, when I last saw it, was
very different from my first recollections of it. He
has had a nice little brick house built, and frame
barns have taken the place of the old log ones that
served us long ago. After our leaving he commenced
a new orchard of the best trees he could get — a
nursery established sixty miles off down the river,
supplying young trees of the best kinds cheaply.
They have flourished, and must by this time be
getting quite broad and venerable. He has some good
horses, a nice gig for summer, with a leather cover to
keep off the sun or the storm, and a sleigh for winter,
with a very handsome set of furs. Most of the land
is cleared, and he is able to keep a man all the time,
so that he has not the hard work he once had. His
fences are new and good, and the whole place looked
very pleasant in summer. All this progress, how-
ever, has not been made from the profits of the farm.
A little money left by a relative to jach of us gave
him some capital, and with it he opened a small store
on his lot in a little house built for the purpose.
There was no pretence of keeping shop, but when
a customer came he called at the house, and any-
one who happened to be at hand went with him
and unlocked the door, opened the shutter, and

i %

404 Growth of Canada,

supplied him, locking all safely again when he was
gone. In this primitive way he has made enough
to keep him very comfortably with his family, the
land providing most of what they eat. They have a
school within a mile of them, but it is rather a
humble one, and there is a clergyman for the church
at the wharf two miles r'own. Henry established
himself in a little village when he first got his
degree, but was thought so much of by his professors
that he has been asked to take the chair of surgery,
which he now holds. My two sisters, Margaret and
Eliza, both married, but only the former is now
living, the other having been dead for some years.
Margaret is married to a worthy Presbyterian
minister, and, if not rich, is, at least, comfortable, in
the plain way familiar in Canada.

When we first went to Canada no more was meant
by that name than the strip of country along the
St. Lawrence, in the Lower Province, and, in the
Upper, the peninsula which is bounded by the great
lakes — Huron, Erie, and Ontario. Since then, how-
ever, the discovery of gold in California and Eraser's
Kiver has given a wider range to men's thoughts,
and awakened an ambition in the sattled districts to
claim as their domain the vast regions of British
America, stretching away west to the shores of the
Pacific, and north to the Arctic Ocean. I used to
think all this vast tract only fit for the wild animals
to which it was for the most part left, but there is

The American Climate,

405

when he was
made enough
[lis family, the
They have a
it is rather a
for the church
iry established
5 first got his
y his professors
air of surgery,
, Margaret and
former is now
ibr some years.
J Presbyterian
comfortable, in

lore was meant

Qtry along the

!e, and, in the

id by the great

nee then, how-

ia and Fraser's

ten's thoughts,

led districts to

ons of British

shores of the

in. I used to

e wild animals

t, but there is

nothing like a little knowledge for changing mere
prejudice. There is of crurse a part of it which is
irredeemably desolate, but there are immense reaches '
which will, certainly, some day, be more highly
valued than they are now. The nearly untouched
line on the north of Lake Huron has been found
to be rich in mines of copper. The Red River
district produces magnificent wheat. The River
Saskatchewan, flowing in two great branches from the
west and north-west to Lake Winnepeg, drains a
country more than six times as large as the whole
of England and Wales, and everywhere showing the
most glorious woods and prairies, which are proofs
of its wealth as an agricultural region. The Mac-
kenzie River drains another part of the territory
eight times as large as England and Wales to-
gether, and the lower parts of it, at least, have a
climate which promises comfort and plenty. It is
no less than two thousand five hundred miles in
length, and is navigable by steamboats for twelve
hundred miles from its mouth. It is a singular fact
that the farther west you go on the North American
continent, the milder the climate. Vancouver's
Island, which is more than two hundred miles far-
ther north than Toronto, has a climate like that of
England ; instead of the extremes of Canada, as you
go up the map, the difference between the west and
east sides of the continent becomes as great as if we
were to find in Newcastle the same temperature in

ii^

406

The Aynencan Climate*

winter as French settlers enjoy in Algiers. The
musk oxen go more than four hundred miles farther
north in summer, on the western, than they do on
the eastern side, and the elk and moose-deer wander
nearly s*x hundred miles farther north in the grass
season, on the one than on the other.

It is indeed more wonderful that the east side of
America should be so cold than that the west should
be so much milder. Toronto is on a line with the Py-
renees and Florence, and yet has the climate of Russia
instead of that of Southern France or Italy; and
Quebec, with its frightful winters and roasting sum-
mers, would stand nearly in the middle of France,
if it were carried over in a straight line to Europe.
Yet we know what a wonderful diiference there is in
England, which is,' thus, far to the north of it. It
is to the different distribution of land and sea in the
two hemispheres, the mildness in the one case, and
the coldness in the other, mast be attributed. The
sea which stretches round the British Islands,
warmed by the influence of the Gulf Stream, is the
great source of their comparative warmth, tempering,
by its nearly uniform heat, alike the fierce blasts of
the north and the scorching airs of the south.
In Sir Charles Lyell's " Principles of Geology," you
will find maps of the land and sea on the earth, so
arranged that, in one, all the land would be compa-
ratively temperate, while, in the other, it would all
be comparatively cold. In America it is likely that

Old England again. 407

the great mountains that run north and south in
three vast chains, beginning, in the west, with the
Cascade Mountains, followed, at wide distances, by the
liocky Mountains, rising in their vast height and
length, as a second barrier, on the east of them, and
by the vast nameless chain which stretches, on the
east side of the continent, from the north shore of
Lake Superior to the south of King William's Land,
on the Arctic Ocean — modify tho climate of the great
North-west to some extent, but it is very hard to
speak with any confidence on a point so little known.
I have already said that I am glad I am back
again in dear Old England, and I repeat it now that
I am near the end of my story. I have not said
anything about my stay in Nova Scotia, because
it did not come within my plan to do so, but I
include it in my thoughts when I say, that, after all
I have seen these long years, I believe " there's no
place like home." If a boy really wish to get on
and work as he ought, he will find an opening in
life in his own glorious country, without leaving it
for another. Were the same amount of labour ex-
pended by anyone here, as I have seen men bestow
on their wild farms in the bush, they would get as
much for it in solid comfort and enjoyment, and
would have around them through life the thousand
delights of their native land. Some people can leave
the scene of their boyhood and the friends of their
youth, and even of their manhood, without seeming

t /

408 Feeling towards England,

to feel it, but I do not envy them their indifference.
I take no shame in confessing that I felt towards
England, while away from it, what dear Oliver
Goldsmith says so touchingly of his brother: —

'' Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see,
My heart, untraveird, fondly turns to thee :
Still to my country turns, with ceaseless pain,
And drags at each remove a lengthening chain."

THE END.

•and.

;heir indifference,
it I felt towards
hat dear Oliver
i brother: —

ins to see,
rns to thee :
easeless pain,
^thening chain."

3067.3 .G43
IS64

GEORGE STANLEY

1529453