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Tous les autres exemplaires originaux sont filmte en commenpant par la promiAre page qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'iliustration et en terminant par la derniAre page qui comporte une telle empreinte. Un das symboles suivants apparaftra sur la derniAre image de cheque microfiche, selon ie cas: Ie symbole -^ signifie "A SUIVRE ", ie symbole ▼ signifie "FIN". Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent Atre filmte A des taux de reduction diffArents. Lorsque Ie document est trop grand pour Atre reproduit en un seul clichA, il est film* A partir de I'angle supArleur gauche, de gauche A droite, et da haut en bas, en prenant Ie nombre d'images nAcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mAthode. 1 2 3 4 5 6 fik i i iuWlJWMWWfi ' WfWWWi rilHlM MMBiT' m 1 ».,r LIFE IN THE WOODS A TRUE STORY OF THE CANADIAN BUSH Bv CUNNINGHAM GEIKIE. D.D. '^M I ' My Native Lujd, Good-night ! ■4 STBAHAN & CO. 56, LUDGATE HILL, LONDON 1873 I ^^"-^ JOHN CHILDS AND EON, PKINTERS. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Boy.dre.ms about travelling-Our ^<^-^^y ^'"'^'''"'^^l-ol Canada-The first day on board-Cure for sea-sickness Our Xe- Henry's adventure-We -counter -- Light of the waves-The bottom of the ocean-A foss 1 sh P -The fishing-grounds-see whales and -"^"B "/^"^^ _Sea.birds-Lights in the sea-The great Gulf of S t L w Jee-Thick ice-fogs-See land at last-Sa.hng up he^nver —Land at Quebec CHAPTER 11. Ouebec-Wolfe-Montcalm's skull-Toronto-We set off for ^he buslv-Mud-roads-A rough ride-Our log-house-How U 'r u t-Our barn-We get oxen and -^E ephan -d Buckey^Unpacking our stores-What some of ou ne.gh- bot lought'when they -e-Hot days-Bush cosmmes- S«n.strokes-My sisters have to turn ->--'l;"-;';;P;'; of the house-work CHAPTER 111. Clearing the land-David's bragging, and the end of it-Burning r logieaps-Our logging bee-What prejudge ^n do our fLes and crops nearly bumed-The -°^^- ^^^^ Building a snake-fence-' Shingle ' pigs give us -- *~^^^ •Breachy' horses and cattle VV- V^^ jia <■«:-■ ■ ■» II Cantents. CHAPTER IV. We begin our preparations for sowing —Gadflies — MosquitoM — Harrowing experiences — A huge fly — Santlflics — The poison of insects and serpents — Winter wheat — The wonden of plant-life— Our first 'sport'— Woodpeckers— ' Chitmunks' ^Tlie blue jay— The blue bird— The flight of birds . . PP- 56-7* CHAPTER V. Some family changes — Amusements — Cow-hunting — Our ' side, line ' — The bush — Adventures with rattlesnakes — Carter- makes — A frog's flight for life— Black squirrels . pp. 73—86 . • CHAPTER VI. Spearing', fish — Ancient 'British canoes — Indian ones — A bargain with an Indian — Henry's cold bath — Canadian thunder- storms — Poor Yorick's death — Our glorious autumns— Thfe change of the leaf- Sunsets— Indian summer — The fall rain« and the roads — The first snow — Canadian cold — A winter landscape — 'Ice-storms' — Snow crystals — The minute per- fection of God's works— Deer-shooting — David's misfortune — Useless cruelty — Shedding of the stag's horns pp. 87—124 CHAPTER VII. Wolves— My adventure with a bear — Courtenay's cow and thd wolves— A fright in the woods by night — The river freezes — Our winter fires— Cold, cold, cold 1— A winter's journey- Sleighing- Winter mufflings— Accidents through intense cold pp. 125-139 Jflies — Mosquitoes -Sandflies — The icat — The wonders ers — ' Chitmunks' of birds pp. S6— 7a mting— Our 'side- lesnakes — Garter- rels . pp. 73—86 I ones — A bargain lanadian thunder- us autumns— Thfc er — The fall rains a cold — A winter -The minute per- )avid's misfortune orns pp. 87 — 124 ay's cow and thd he river freezes — winter's journey— ough intense cold pp. 125-139 '■^■.:, Contenis, ^ CHAPTER VIII. The aurora borealis— 'Jumpers' — Squaring timber — Rafts — Camping out — A public .meeting — Winter fashions — My to<5 frozen— A long winter's walk— Hospitality — Nearly lost in the woods pp. 140—155 CHAPTER IX. Involuntary racing — A backwoods parsonage— Grr./es in the wilderness — Notions of equality — Arctic winters — RuflTed grouse — Indian fishing in winter — A marriage — Our winter'/, pork , pp. 156—1(1, CHAPTER X. « Our neighbours— Insect plagues— Military officers' families m the bush — An awkward mistake — Dr D nearly shot for a bear — Major M Our candles — Fortunate escape from a fatal accident . pp. 168 — 178 CHAPTER XI. * Now Spring returns ' — Sugar-making — Bush psalmody — Bush preaching — Worship under difficulties — A clerical Mrs Partington — Biology — A ghost—' It slips good ' — Squatters pp. 179—193 CHAPTER XII. Bush magistrates— Indian forest guides — Senses quickened by necessity — Breaking up of the ice — Depth of the frost — A grave Ln winter; — A ball — A holiday coat .... pp. 194 — 204 iiittr""-t«irniiirti"i '" viu Contents. U: CHAPTER XIII. „„„, »»^P«*;-^7f«' S!1t^ ..,s_H« Roosting places— The irogs n ^ ^ ^ pp. 205—217 . squirrels CHAPTER XIV. our sp.ng crops-Indian corn-Purnplcins-Melo.-Jruit^^ Wild Flowers ..•.•••'* .' ^ CHAPTER XV. CHAPTER XVI. -Henry exorcises an Indian's rifle . . . ■ VV ^ CHAPTER XVII. • Kr,1 Storv of a pet-Canada a good country The humnnngW-Stoty of P ^^^^^^^^_^,^,,,, i,w for poor -^-:^^^^''2Lo.^r waggon-driving-Henry _Tortoises-The hay sea iii_Backwood and I are nearly drowned - Henry falls ^^^ ^^^^^_^^, doctors poem on the blue-bird- pigeons-Their numbers- frogs-Tree frogs-Flying . . . . pp. 20S-2«7 XIV. impkins-Melons-Fruits- .... PP.2i8-«4 XV. an the Indians be civilized! alleged innocence of savage the Jesuit missionary pp. 225—25'; . XVI. s_Medals— An embassy— e dead— Christian Indians— iron-Stolidity of the Indians fle . . . . PP- 258-276 5. XVII. pet-Canada a good country of misfortune-Statute labour -Our waggon-driving— Henry Henry falls ill-Backwood .... pp. 277-293 Contents. ix CHAPTER XVIII. American men and women — Fireflies-rProfusion of insect life — Grasshoppers — Frederick and David leave Canada — Soap- making— Home-made candles — Recipe for washing quickly — Writing letters — The parson for driver . . . pp. 296—310 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. 311— 324 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. 325 — 337 CHAPTER XXI. A tornado — Bats — Deserted lots — American inquisitiveness — An election agent pp. 338 — 346 CHAPTER XXII. A journey to Niagara — River St Clair — Detroit — A slave's escape — An American steamer — Description of the Falls of Niagara — Fearful catastrophe pp. 347 — 363 CHAPTER XXIII. The suspension-bridge at Niagara— The whirlpool — The battle of Lundy's Lane — Brock's monument — A soldier nearly drowned pp. 364 — 371 Contents. CHAPTER XXIV. .. ,i,„ The exile's love of home-Thc coloured people m C''"'^'l^-«^''=^ i^^_New England emigrants cloth-A narrow road-A grummer _A potato-pit-The winter's wood. . • PP ^' CHAPTER XXV. ^ t, r. Chances -Too-hard study-Educa- Thoughts for the f"*"'^-^^""^!', . _^i„ter amusements- tion in ^---^--^'^''''''''^Tt^'^^l^ on the farm Ice.boats-V«y -Id >-Oa-spnn^ Chan^^^^ ^^^,^^^ -Growth of Canada-The Amenca ^ ^p 3gg_4os again tome— The coloured le Mist— Home-spun w England emigrants . . pp. 372-387 LIFE IN THE WOODS. '^ i-hard study— Educa- Winter amusements — -Changes on the farm climate-Old England . . . PP- 388-40S 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 storm- Height of the waves— The bottom of the ocean-A fossil ship-The fishing-grounds-See whales and icebergs-Por- poises-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. WONDER if ever there were a boy who did not wish to travel ? I know I did, and used to spend many an hour thinking of all the wonderful things I should see, and of what I would bring home when I returned. Books of travel I devoured greedily— and v.ery good reading for boys, as well as for grown men, I have always thought them. I began with 'Robinson Crusoe,' like most boys— for who has not read his story? Burckhardt, the traveller, found a young Arab reading a translation of it in the door of his father's ■mmMumm* Dreams about Travelling- tent in the desert. But I don't think I ever w.ohed to be like him. or to roam in a wild romantic way, or go to sea; as it is called, like many other boys I have known, which is a fery different thing from havmg harmless fancies, that one would like to see strange races of men and strange countries. Some of my schoolmates, .hom nothing would content but being ^^^lo^^'^" ^ 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 h ps, he was so worn and broken down I hardly knew 2 ^gain, 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 Treb^ zond but that cured him. He came back perfectly zona, u ^^^ ^j^g contented to stay at home, as romance of sailoring, which had lured him away, a very different thing from the reality. He had never counted on being turned out of hisT^ed 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, without 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 1 ling. I ever wiohed to intic way, or ' go ;her boys I have ng from having , see strange races 'my schoolmates, :ing sailors, early ;, if ever I had it, they came back. see for some years at last among the 3wn I hardly knew f the low forecastle jear his company. e voyage to Trebi- me back perfectly he had found the 2d him away, a very : had never counted •y other night or so 5, or being clouted ellow, or having to do their bidding, or weather, and get thout any chance of ik of the difference d the close, crowded, ould hardly see for to eat and sleep with The First Day on Board, 3 companions whom he would not have thought of speaking to before he sailed. He came back quite sobered down, and, after a time, went to study law, and is now a barrister in good practice. Yet I v/as 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 differently 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 sick- ness. One old gentleman, a Scotchman, who had been .4 ^^ *(■ / ' 4 Cure for Sea-sickness, boasting that he had a preventive that would keep hhn 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 faitlifuUy ; 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 unfor- tunate 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 aftenvards at dinner in America, and the laudanum wis 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 ui a ship, you were sure to meet strange characters. A little light man in a wig was soon the butt of the cabin, h'i w tl k g b t( d li I t < MaiMiiiiiii s. ivould keep hhn his groans and only failed, but : had been told ind whisky, he ived the advice fit to make him much it and the :n the ship was )oys did not fail, g that either the s, to come over and advise each ; words bringing from the unfor- d sent me, just laudanum and apply some way ell ; but she got ing to move that ard aftenvards at WIS a long time r days everything ly all got right to reappear on pie gathered in a iracters. A little of the cabin, h'i Our Passengers. 5 would ask such silly questions, and say such outrageous 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 th.. 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 from America at first. He thought the best thing to make money by ir Canada was to sow all the country with mustard-seed, it 3'ielded 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, conceited man, with a very r.trange 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, b^ his asking one* day when we were speaking 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 been held by the Carthaginians, he wished to know if these people held it now. Boy as I . JMilh-^«ifciT 1liiHlM»M Henry's Adventure. 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 us after a time. One day we were playing 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 ridiculous 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 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 r -e. dreadful thing it ned that I would lis name), at any I could. gh to the captain venge on one of lying with a rope p in the rigging, d, and the other, lown on the deck, lis shoulders and ; captain chanced he knew what he up ever so high, 1 and laughing at some time before s a pretty .big lad, he felt terribly it when he got pride got cooled all careful enough y after that. 1 very pleasantly ►Ider people. It me and the wind lie green galleries hite, at each side, thought, a great uck, and I heard We encounter a Storm. 7 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 mountains 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, meanwhile, 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 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 whirlwind 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 sup- r % Height of the Waves. pose, our notions of them being taken from looking up at them from the hollow between two. Dr Scores- by, 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 thirty-five, or, at most, forty feet, as the height of the Atlantic storm-waves, which is very different 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 of the yard. Though it was broad daylight, and though they would have done anything to help him as they saw him rismg on the wave, farther and further behind them, swimmmg brave'ly, they were perfectly unable even to make an effort the sea rolling so wildly, and the ship tearmg 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, naturally enough, MMiHMata ^^,...^^',^,^^ ..^kJ^. mtUlm a. from looking ,-0. Dr Scores- of the Atlantic [ley seldom rise r causing them rty feet, as the which is very gh,' as we often le men who had he terrible wind oiling so dread- leets and ropes, ley ever can hold ■ hold, and then y go, splash into igony as no one My brother, on thus lost — a fine, den lurch of the ard. Though it would have done im rising on the them, swimming jven to make an le ship tearing on y had, with hearts : their very eyes. , great deal about naturally enough, T/ie Bottom of the Ocean. o tliought 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 Newfoundland 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 suddenly on both sides into unflithom- able 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 wonder- ful 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 north- ern parts of Europe and the Arctic circle. If the quantity of mud, and gravel, and sand deposited on the Banks be great enough to bury some of the many wrecks of ail sizes which go to the bottom there, what a wonderful sight some future ages may have ! 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 wTecks be buried in them before they had rotted away, geologists of those days will perhaps be laying bare in some quarry. 10 A Fossil Ship, now far down in the sea, the outline of a fossil ship, with all the things it Inul in it when it was lost ! We met a great many fishing-boats in this part, some from Ncwfoun.lland, some from Nova Scotia, others, again, from the northern coasts of the Umtecl States, with not a few all the way from l-rancc. We were becalmed one day close to some from the State 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 cpiitc 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 m 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, moreover, 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 peoi>le than one would like to see, even the chance of causing death itself seemmg to give them no concern. I remember once going m a steamer up the Bay of Fundy, over pirt of the same I II ■|-'^-^-^''~-^-^-''^-*^ ine of a fossil it when it was its in this part, n Nova Scotia, s of tlic United )m Irancc. We ; from the State I sent off a boat n it as you could n for some pork, jss-pork, which I yellow and fat, of cod-fish and , by far the best a great many of year by storms, n and sunk in a m. They are so 3 in many cases, n so very foggy, iible to see them. d fog-horns every s, they should do ^ct. There is far one would like to ath itself seeming ber once going in r piirt of the same "\ Sec Whales and Icebergs. II groimd, when we struck a fishing-schooner in the dead of the night ; but the captain only swore at it for being in Iiis wiiy, and never stopped to sec 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 p.ission at the time, or stony hard- hcartcdness, it is an awfid thing to be unkind. Uncle Toby, who put tiie tly out of the window rather than kill it, makes -is love him for his tenderness even in an instance ;• 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 jjoor simple woman, who had got into the cabin, how they had read of a ship that once struck on a great black island in ftie middle of the sea and went down, and how the sailors got off on the rock, and landed their prcv- visions, and were making themselves comfortable, when one of them unfortunately thought he would kindle a fire to cook sometiing ; bui 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 boys' stories we have all read, but the poor creature believed it, listening to them with her eyes fixed on their faces, Icebergs. 12 ana 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 for every one above, this would make a two hundred 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 of 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 M'Clintock both saw them m the different stages of their growth ; and I don't know a more interesting narrative than that of the ascent to the top of the great frozen stream, on the shore of Washington's Land, by the former, 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 Green- land. The icebergs often carry off from the shore a vast quantity of stones and gravel, which gets frozen luiiiwii - • -^.vm-* ■^ Toro7tio. objects are covered. The whole landscape is one un- broken 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-saslies, 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 township of Bidport, on the banks of the River St Clair. We therefore stayed no longer in Toronto than possible, 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 everythmg seemed. The 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. The streets were like a newly-ploughed field in rainy-weather, for mud, the waggons often sinking almost to the axles in it. Tliere 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 Mtid- roads. 21 Iscjpe is one un- )u may go in any ig the smallest ^tiling ; and even sisted by double loves, and coats, enjoy it. d that my brother untry, had been ok out a place for in the township of tcx St Clair. We nto than possible, /erything put right tier detained by a that the house on or us for a week ty of time to look verything seemed. ^s;but, then, itwas luses of all sizes and ble one-storey shell. There were a few ; streets were like a ither, for mud, the c axles in it. There e both few and bad. but to us it seemed waiting, we laid in ^\'^^atever provision we thought we would need for a good while, everything being much cheaper in Toronto tlian 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 leatiier springs, with a broad shelf behind, supported by straps from the upper corners, for the luggage. There were three seats, the middle one movable, wliich it needed to be, as it came exactly in the centre of the door. The machine and its load were drawn by four iiorses, 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 ! The roads had 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 was to pull us througli at a walk. AVhen 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 over- flowed from the bush 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 tlie road, till it was practicable for travellers or waggons. W**- mmm 22 A Roiir/i Ride. ,r' 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, tuoir 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 patriarch 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 would have sent coach and all into the water, men had to be got from the nearest house to go at 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. T have long ago learned all the varieties of badness of which roads are capable, and A Rough Ride. ^3 le comforts of a open waggon — Is, with pieces of this affair — some we went through tid Hamilton, we a time went on wamp, which had IS cut into lengths :ing on the trunks may think how different size from F the woods rising ness. The whole arly to the level of ;ry here and there ed it late at night, re, and a yard too coach and all into the nearest house lanterns, and the to get out, and except two ladies, :tered up and down )n in the dark with f ' corduroy roads,' of them before we ong ago learned all ids are capable, and question whether 'corduroy' is entitled to the first rank. TlicTe is a kind made of thick planks, laid side by side, wliich, 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 tlie plank at the other side. But, indeed, ' corduroy ' is dreadful. \Vhen 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 after 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 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, how- ever, and the leaves were making the woods beautiful, and the birds had begun to flit about, so that the cheer- fulness 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. WWO IIi lll I M •4 Our Log-house. The look of the house whicli 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 froi.i the river, far enough to give room for a garden when we had time to make one ; and tlie trees had been cut down from the water's edge to some distance behind the house to make tilings a little more cheery, an.J^ kil nise. n. The frame of the lattened un the top, on ;se again were covered len slate made of split 1. Ihe angles at the tted to the length, and 2n pins driven through On the whole house 1, except on the roof, nake holes, made every- ;traordinary place. The he outer planks cut from 1, and fixed by wooden oung trees, cut the right of similar round poles, leg, supported the floor 5 to be my sisters' bed- ^ever, instead of boards, )s. They had to climb linary ladder^ made with ;er out of green, round nk of Robinson Crusoe when I saw them going rful affair. It was large )st of the way, and could )gs, four or five feet long, d, and when whitewashed t came to like it ; it was How it "jjas Built. -m so clean and cheerful in the winter-time. But we had to pull it down some years after, and get one built of brick, as it was always getting out of repair. A par- tition was put up across the middle and then divided again, and tliis made two bed-rooms for my brothers, and left us our solitary room which was to serve for kitchen, dining-room, and drawing-room, the outer door opening into it. As to paint, it was out of the question, but we had lime for whitewash, and what with it and some newspapers which my brothers pasted up in their bed-rooms, and a few pictures we brought from home, we thought we were quite stylish. There was no house any better, at any rate, in the neighbourl- ood, 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 shanties in which somf. settlers manage to live for a time are half buried by this process, and the very wretched ones built by labourers alongside publi- 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 - '^\q, circum- stances, fall upon similar plans, -in - / the Indians in America, for instance, uted .,> -nnk a pit fo.- a house and build it round with .;,-«■ putting a roof on the walls, which reached oi'.v a li;tle above the ground. 28 Our Log-house. 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 ground, not in it, and was very warm for Canada, when the wind did not come against the door, which was a very poor on ^f inch-thick wood. The thickness of the logs kept c . the cold wonderfully, though that is a very ambiguous word for a Canadian house, which would need to be made two logs thick to be warm without tremendous fires— at least, in the open unsheltered country. 'I'he 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, iri my opinion, awful, in any part of them Miere 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 wooden pin stuck in above the bar. We got v.alei from the river close at hand ; a plank run out into the stream form- ing what they called ' a wharf,' to let us get depth enough for our pitchers and pails. cotch did the , and Curzon, ;n like to fall lenia into the h their oxen, 1 into the side their presence ike this, I am not /// it, and wind did not ry poor on "^i i logs kept c >. /ery ambiguous aid need to be )ut tremendous country, 'i'he oards'— that is, inch thick, and much colder; in any part of liter. lat locks and s things. Most I, made with an y a wooden pin 1 from the river le stream form- ;t US get depth We get Oxen and Cows. 29 Besides the house, my brother had got a bam built not far from the house — of course a log one — on the piece clear of trees. It was about the size of the house, but the chinks between the logs were not so carefully filled up as in it. The squirrels, indeed, soon found this out, and were constantly running in and out when we had any grain in it. The upf>er part was to hold our hay, and half of the ground-floor 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 dif- ferent 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 any- thing to do with them. We had bought a plough and harrows, and I don't know what else, before coming up, •".nd h;id brought a great many things besides from En;;!.i. ■ -''■ that we had a pretty fair beginning in farm imrlenipn*' An ox-waggon was very soon added to a pu"ch?ises — a rough affair as could be. It was r jI!\ rg lut two planks for the bottom and one for each side, ^vuh shoi' pieces at the ends, like the waggon- stage, on the road fron. Toronto — a long box on four wheels, about the height of a cart. The boards were u^ 30 Elephant and Buckeye. 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, 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 toug!' wood called hickory, which were ;'ist pieces bent to fit their deep n-^xks, the ends being pushed up through two holes in che yokes at each side, ^:,Z. fastened by pins at the top. There was no har- ness of any kind, and no reins, a long wand 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 off. The namtd of our two were Elephant and Buckeye, 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 myself when I got angry at them for their solemn slowness 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, we never bought anything more from the man who sold us them. Our first concern when we had got fairly into the house was to help to get the furniture and luggage v^ going over the 1 were fastened heavy piece of for the back of J in the middle, the end of the ) it by two thin ry, which were the ends being :es at each side, sre was no har- vand serving to t it was a very r take it off. t and Buckeye, :reature, but as ch nicer beast, ivorker. They t and quiet that I got angry at tupidity. Had lave got much but my brother had any more to eat them at anything more fairly into the e aiid luggage Unpacking our Stores. 31 brought from the wharf, two miles off, for we had to leave everything except our bedding there on landing. It was a great job to get all into the waggon, and then to open it after reaching the house. The wharf 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 lodging 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 beach 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 ridiculous 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 ! 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 wardrobe, 3^ Unpacking our Stores. packed full of I don't know what, large enough to have done for a travelling show, and boxes of books, and crockery, and tables, and a great carpenter's chest, not to speak of barrels of oatmeal, and flour, and salt, and one of split peas. I think the books were the heaviest, except that awful wardrobe and the chest of drawers, which were all packed full of something. But they paid over and over for all the trouble and weight, proving the greatest possible blessing. If we had not brought them we would have turned half- savages, I suppose, for there were none to buy nearer than eighty or ninety miles, and, besides, we would not have had money to buy them. We had a whole set of Sir Walter Scott's charming stories, which did us a world of good, both by helping us to spend the winter evenings pleasantly, by the great amount of instruction in history and antiquarian lore they con- tained, and by showing my young sisters, especially, that all the world were not like the rude people about us. They got a taste for elegance and refinement from them that kept them ladies in their feelings while they had only the life of servants. When we had got all the things into the house, the next thing was to unpack them. A large pier-glass, which would have been very useful, but rather out of the way in such a house, was discovered to be shivered to fragments ; and some crockery had found the shak- ing on the journey too much for its powers of resist- ance. That horrid wardrobe, which had sprained our large enough to boxes of books, carpenter's chest, id flour, and salt, i books were the and the chest of ill of something. 11 the trouble and I blessing. If we have turned half- one to buy nearer oesides, we would We had a whole stories, which did ig us to spend the ; great amount of •ian lore they con- sisters, especially, rude people about nd refinement from feelings while they into the house, the A large pier-glass, il, but rather out of leered to be shivered had found the shak- its powers of resist- ch had sprained our What some of our Neighbours brought j,^ 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 holes in it, and make it a hen-house. It was all but too large, like the picture m the ' Vicar of Wakefield,' which would not go in at any door when it 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 remember one family who brought ever so many huge heavy grates, not knowing that there was no coal m Canada, and that they were useless. They would mdeed, be able to get Ohio coal now. in the large; owns ; but there was none then anywhere. The only fuel burned all through the country parts, in fireplaces, i. . 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 accoutrements, he brought a brass helmet, a regulation sabre, buck! ' skin breeches, and jack-boots with him. that he might march safely through the jungle which he supposed l.e hould find on his route. The young clerg^an who af^rwards 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 3 34 IVhat some of our Neighbours brought. Irees. What he thought the people to whom he was to preach lived in, I don't know ; perhaps he fancied we cooked our dinners under the trees, and lived without houses, like the Indians. In some countries, hammocks are used in travelling through uninhabited places, on account of the poisonous insects on the ground and the thickness of .he vegetation ; but in Canada such a thing is never heard of, houses being always within reach in the parts at all settled ; and travellers sleep on the ground when beyond the limits of civilization. But to sleep in the open air at all makes one such a figure before morning with mosquito- bites, that nobody would try it a second time, if he could help it. I was once on a journey up Lake Huron, of which I shall speak by and by, where we had to sleep a night on the ground, and, what with ants running over us, and with the mosquitoes, we had a most wretched time of it. A friend who was with me had his nose so bitten that it was thicker above than below, and looked exactly as if it had been turned up- side down in the dark. It took us some time to get everything fairly in order, but it was all done after a while. We were all in good health j everything before us was new ; and the weather, though very warm, 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 if it had been a pair of blankets, and when we were sure the ours brought. i to whom he was erhaps he fancied trees, and lived n some countries, ough uninhabited us insects on the regetation ; but in i of, houses being it all settled ; and beyond the limits he open air at all ling with mosquito- second time, if he I journey up Lake and by, where we nd, and, what with mosquitoes, we had lend who was with s thicker above than iiad been turned up- everything fairly in [lile. We were all in s was new ; and the ften delightful in the was sometimes very s now and then that as heavy as if it had en we were sure the Hot Days. - - door was fast, we were glad to throw even it aside We always took a long rest at noon till the sun got somewhat cooler, but the heat was bad enough even m the shade. I have known it pretty nearly, if not quue, loo" some days in the house. I remember hear- mg some old gentlemen once talking about it, and telhng each other how they did to escape it : the one declared that the coolest part of the house was below the bed and the other, a very stout clergyman, said he ound the only spot for study was in the cellar. Captam W used to assert that it was often as hot m Canada as in the West Indies. My sisters never went with so little clothing before • and, mdeed, it was astonishing how their circuniference' collapsed under the influence of the sun. As to us we thought only of coolness. Coarse straw hats, with broad bnms costing about eightpence ap.ece, with a handkerch^f ,„ the crown to keep the heat off the head ; a sh.rt of blue cotton, wide trow,ers of dark pnnted cahco, or, indeed, of anything thin, and boots composed our dress. But this was elaborat^ compared wuh that adopted by a gentleman who w^ LdinTa bachelor life back in the bush some distance f^^^J A fnend went to see him one day, and found him frv! ing some bacon on a fire below a tree before his door • -a potato-pot hanging by a chain over part of it from' a bough-his o„,,dress being a shirt, boL. a hat,^ thought of any one penetrating to his wilderness 36 Biish Costumes. habitation, and laughed as heartily at being caught in such a plight as my friend did at catching him. For my part, I thought I should be cooler still if I turned up my shirt-sleeve ; but my arms got forthwith so tanned and freckled, that even yet they are more useful than beautiful. One day there chanced to be a torn place on my shoulder, which I did not notice on going out. I thought, after a time, that it was very hot, but took it for granted it could not be helped. Wiien I came in at tlinner, however, I was by no meahs agreeably surprised when my sister Margaret called out to me, 'George, there's a great blister on your shoulder,' wlxich sure enough there was. I took care to have always a whole shirt after that. We had hardly been a month on the river when we heard that a man, fresh from England, who had been at work for a neighbour, came into the house one after- noon, saying he had a headache, and died, poor fellow, in less than an hour. He had had a sun-stroke. Some- times those who are thus seized fall down at once in a fit 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 had 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 jiower of every part of his body, however, except his head, nothing remain- at being caught tchlng him. For r still if I turned irthwith so tanned more useful than be a torn place on on going out. I y hot, but took it Wiien I came in means agreeably called out to me, n your shoulder,' took care to have the river when we ind, who had been the house one after- id died, poor fellow, a sun-stroke. Some- :lown at once in a fit I Sir Charles Napier ance of what the sun Dung man, a plumber on a roof in one of ; stnick down in an 1 death by a fellow- his reason, but that e power of every part lead, nothing remain- Sun-stroi-cs. "^fc ing ah've, you may say, but that. He could move or control Ills eyes, moutli, and neck, but that war. 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 ])ity 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 m scorching hot weather must have been very ex- hausting. 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 end of a fire kindled outside, and hanging the pots from it. While I think of it, what a source of annoyance the cookin- on the logs in the fireplace was before we got a crane° I remember we once had a large brass panfull of rasp- berry jam, nicely poised, as we thought, on the burn- ing logs, and just ready to be lifted off, when, lo ! some of the firewood below gave way and down it went into the ashes ! Baking was a hard art to learn. What bread we had to eat at first ! We used to quote Hood's lines — 9l Going to Mill. • Who lias not heard of home-made liread— That heavy comi)ound of putty and lead ?' But practice, and a 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 was not back again till nine or ten at night— that is, after we had wheat of our own. It had to be ground while he waited. But it was not all lost time, for the shoe- maker's was near the mill, and we always made the same journey do for both. In winter we were so -'^- times badly off whe.i our flour ran short. On g to the mill, we, at times, found the wheel frozen and that the miller had no flour of his own to sell. I have known us for a fortnight having to use potatoes instead of bread, when our neighbours happened to be as ill-provided as 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 had 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. Our part of the Housework. 39 le bread— tiul lead 7 ' )m a neighbour's at it. We had k^tr, after our first es off, and, as wc getting to it and 1 to set off at five ver, and was not —that is, after we ground while he ne, for the shoe- always made the er we were so e- lort. On g heel frozen s own to sell. I to use potatoes s happened to be nd us a ' baking.' I to be done in a it. No servants hen their fathers luite above going their hands full. J could, bringing dl the water from ilmost a pleasure 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.' JlSi 40 CHAPTER III. 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. HE first thing that had to be done with the land was to make a farm of it, by cutting down and burning as many trees as we could before the end of August, to have some room for sowing wheat in the first or second week of September. It was now well on in June, so that we had very little time. However, by hiring two men to chop (we didn't board or lodge them) and setting our other hired men to help, and with the addition of what my brothers Robert and David could do, we expected to get a tolerably-sized field ready. Henry and I weie too young to be of much use ; Henry, the elder, being only about fifteen. As to Andrew, he could not bear such work, and paid one of the men to work for him. Yet both he and we had all quite enough to do, in the lighter parts of the business. We had got axes in Toronto, and our man fitted them into the crooked handles which they use in Canada. A British axe, MHI L III. ;, and the end of it — Burning What prejudice can do — Our rhe woods on fire — Building s us sore trouble — ' Breachy ' had to be done with the a ferm of it, by cutting ig as many trees as we end of August, to have I the first or second week II on in June, so that we r, by hiring two men to ;e them) and setting our vith the addition of what 1 could do, we expected ady. Henry and I wei e Henry, the elder, being irew, he could not bear e men to work for him. ite enough to do, in the We had got axes in them into the crooked rnada. A British axe, Clearing the Land. 41 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 whacking 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 sup- pose. 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 down as we advanced. The plan was to make, first, a slanting stroke, and, then, another, straight in, to cut off the chip thus made ; thus gradually reaching the mid(«e, leaving a smootli, flat stump about three feet high underneath, and a slope inwards above. The one side done, they began the same process with the other, hacking away chip after chip from the butt, till 42 Clearing the Land. 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 hear- ing 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 threatened to fall in our direction. It is wonderful, howev - how exactly a skilful chopper can determine befo. and how a tree shall come down. They sometimes manage, indeed, to aim one so fairly at a smaller one, close at hand, as to send it, also, to the ground with the blow. Accidents rarely happen, though, sometimes, a poor man runs the ^vTong way and gets killed. What a noise the great monarchs of the forest made as they thundered down ! It was like firing off a great cannon ; and right glad we were when we had a good many such artillery to fire off in a day. But it was often dreadfully hot work, and my brothers seemed as if they should never drink enough. I used to bring them a small pailful of water at a time, and put it on the shady side of a stump, covering it over with some green thing besides, to keep it cool. The cows and oxen seemed to take as much pleasure as ourselves in our progress, for no sooner was a tree down than they would be among its branches, munching off the tender ends as if they were great delicacies in their eyes. It was harder to keep them out of harm's way than ourselves, and many a time I was half afraid a tree would be down on me before I got them out of danger. ^ Indeed, we had one loss, d. David's Bragging, and the end of it. 43 : the mass above, ling fall by a loud ; uncut J on hear- which way the luld take to our ed to fall in our ' how exactly a and how a tree 3 manage, indeed, , close at hand, as £blow. Accidents poor man runs the a noise the great ■ thundered down ! ; and right glad we ich artillery to fire readfuUy hot work, should never drink aall pailful of water y side of a stump, ing besides, to keep :d to take as much ess, for no sooner imong its branches, if they were great irder to keep them and many a time I down on me before d, 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 hurt anything, if there were ever so many cattle about. Next morning, however, before breakfast, we were all hard at work, and the oxen and cows were busy with the twigs as usual, when a rine 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, ] )resently, while he was all excitement about its 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 no more about the stupidity of people who killed oxen or cows while chopping. Working hard every day, it was surprising what a piece we soon felled. When we had got as much 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 having cut off the *^rT Burning the Log-heaps. mm ill branches from each tree as it was felled, and heaped them together in different spots. The trunks of the trees had next to be cut into pieces about ten feet long, those intended for rails being left somewhat longer. I wonder how often the axes rose and fell during these weeks. Even my brothers began 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 from 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.' The 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 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 eaps. - ielled. and heaped The trunks of the iboiit ten feet long, iiewhat longer. I 1 fell during these to be able to use beginning to look )eing hacked in a English carpenter's : destruction of so black walnut, and [ morning to night, 3 get it out of the the grand finishing me neighbours, so The logs had to be ning, which would rselves alone. We far off to come in ations, for there is. n these occasions. 1 the centre dishes great array of pies of the fruit across •e pumpkins, which and we had plums n trees in our own )ne's taste, formed Our Logging Dee. 45 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 with- out 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 cf 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 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 about into the holes between the logs, to help them to bum. It was astonishing to see how the oxen walked away with their loads. Standing as quiet as if they could not move, except when their tails were sent to do duty on some troublesome flies, their' faces as solemnly stupid as possible, the first shout of the driver made them lean instantly against their yoke in a steady pull, which moved almost any log to which they might be chained. Horses would have jumped and tugged, and the log would have stuck where it was, but the solid strain of the oxen, their two heads mm m»mtiimlfm6>imum» ,1..^ What Prejudice can do. often together, and their bodies far apart, was irre- sistible. Off they walked with huge cuts of trees, ten feet long, as if they had been trifles. It was a wonder how they could stand dragging such heavy weights over the rough ground, with nothing but the thin wooden collar round thtir necks, against which to press. A horse needs a padded collar, but an ox doesn't seem to suffer from the want of it. In Nova Scotia, which I afterwards visited, and also in Lower Canada, oxen are harnessed by the horns, and you are only laughed at if you say that it seems cruel. I believe if they were yoked by the tail in any country, the people who i-ed them in that way would stand up for its superiority to any other. Prejudice is a wonderful thing for blinding men. I have heard of a gentleman in the East Indies, who felt for the labourers having to carry the earth from some public work 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 ! 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 eatables, do. ' apart, was irre- cuts of trees, ten It was a wonder h heavy weights ng but the thin against which to :ollar, but an ox ; of it. In Nova nd also in Lower B horns, and you t seems cruel. I lil in any country, way would stand •. Prejudice is a I have heard of a t for the labourers public work they oulders, and got a lem, showing them much better they :xt morning, when ig the new system, id that they had i, carrying them on handle and one at d supper, an extra : the day to escape mption of eatables, Burning tlie Logs. 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 a.' thorough as we could have desired, but it was hot wo;l-. 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 together as they burned away, and the stuffing odd ends into the hol- lows 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 trowsers, may be easily fancied. But, after all, one 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 remained. 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 I) id! t in ■ ^n P 48 Our Fences and Crops nearly burned. pieces of dead wood, and the thick root? of the grass, and the coat of vegetable matter always found in the soil of the forest, kindled, in spite of every effort to prevent it, the fire 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 being cleared, quite a distance back, along the side road ; but he had hardly done so and set off, than my sisters, Mar- garet and Eliza, who were alone in the house, noticed that the fire had caught the ground, and was making for the strip at the side of the road, 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 bam 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 donCj and keeping them fighting with the rails the whole day, until Henry came back irly burned. ootF of the grass, ays found in the of every effort to r and near, in the ached in a blaze, rrival, Henry was lought it would be some brush heaps 'as being cleared, ;ide road ; but he ,n my sisters, Mar- tha house, noticed i, and was making in the direction of rom one thing to d had already put ; six or seven acres, idled that, it might d bam and burned sisters were too let it have its own ig bank, and began .il, and carry each Id not reach them. ; in the field, and the fire, but it kept ut afresh after they ping them fighting Henry came back The Woods on Fire, 49 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 mischief 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 off, great clouds of smoke rising from the woods, and of course we were instantly off to see what it was. We found that ground-fire had got into a piece of the forest which wc called the' Windfall,' a broad belt of huge pine trees, which had been thrown down by some terrible whirl- wind, 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 miles, their great branches rising in thousands, black and naked, into the air. The fire had fairly caught 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 4 ' 5» The Woods on Fire. at each side, and it did catch many 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 fire would be by the dead part at the very top, nearly a hundred feet, I should think, in some cases, from the earth, flaming out like a star. At night the sight was grand in the extreme — the blazing mass of prostrate trees in the Windfall, and, at its edges, tongues of flame, running up the huge trunks, or breaking out here and there on their .sides. At 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 after day, till it had burned up everything before it, to an opening 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 cleft he had made, and drove , ^■,^^-..;...-..-^-^^i:^-..>.. .,ri-.^^,..,f..,.i IWM»i*li>Mi'tAit« i>att»"r«Thi ti ' f j m' i » mMw i , i^ ' iw ? The Blue Jay. fi; ;lp telling us, when ight it just another (I ^^ooilness of (lod to its particular cnil. e U8 a great deal of what Nisbet called : being the ground- rery respect, except 1 turned up over the which was short and ip and down. Tlie' very now and then re a tree had fallen joked at them they it black eyes, and, if hole in the log, or sight in an instant, .rds them, and never they were looking for largely on them, and stores of other food, y have, that they may ;y do not make their in holes in the trees, der logs, or in hillocks trees, forming a wind- \ making two or three he sides of their nest, lieir extra food. They do not often go up the trees, but if they be frightened • and cannot get to their holes, tliey run up the trunks and get from branch to branch with wonderful (piic k- ness. S(jmetimes we tried to catcli one wlien it would thus go up 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 iiuick for us, and after making sure I had it, and climbing the tree to get hold of it, it would be off in some magical way before our eyes, let us do our best. Then, at other times, we would try to catch one in an old log, but with no better success. Henry would get to the one end and I to the other, and make sure it couldn't get out. It always did get out, however, and all we could do was to admire its beautiful shape, with the squirrel 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 beauties 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 prettiest 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 exquisitely its wings are capped , ^.■i^..i. , ^ ; i mWiW » , .^ ' IftWI W 'If' ' 'j-?rf*P^"*? J o^^^. 68 T/ie Blue Bird. 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 afterwards to have a kind of ill-will at the litde 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, tliey generally kept pretty close to the woods ; but in Sep- tember or October they would favour the gardens with visits ! and then woe to any fruit within reach ! But yet they ate so many caterpillars at times that I suppose we should not have grudged them a cherry feast oc- casionally. I am sure they must be great coxcombs, small though they be, for they are not much larger than a thrush, though tbe length of their tail makes them seem larger : they carry their heads so pertly, like to show themselves oif so well, and are so constandy raising and letting down their beautiful crest, as if all the time thinking how well they look. John James Audubon, the ornithologist, got a nun jer of them, of both sexes, alive, and trifd to carry them over to England, to make us a present of the race, if it were able to live in our climate ; but 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, no^ leaving till the middle • Bird. lack and white ! and its ;r than the tint of bhie on )rnament enough for any ring shape, and its feathers )lack and white. But we ind of ill-will at the little .ve an orchard; for greater the fancy takes them, it ;. When breeding, they to the woods ; but in Sep- Id favour the gardens with y fruit within reach ! But liars at times that I suppose :d them a cherry feast oc- y must be great coxcombs, they are not much larger .ength of their tail makes r their heads so pertly, like well, and are so constandy eir beautiful crest, as if all 11 they look. John James , got a nun jer of them, of 1 to carry them over to esent of the race, if it were ;e ; but the poor things all 'ay. dear litde blue bird, which Far South as early as March, , no^ leaving till the middle The Blue Bird. 69 or end of November, when he seems to bid a melan- . choly farewell to his friends, and returns to his winter retreat. In the spnng and summer every place is en- livened with his cheerful song ; but with the change of the leaf in October it dies away into a single note, as if he too felt sorry that the beautiful weather was leaving. The blue bird is to America very much, in summer, what the robin is to us in England in winter— hopping as familiarly as if it trusted every one, about the orchards and the fences. Sometimes it builds in a hole in an old apple-tree, for generation after generation ; but very often it takes up its abode in little houses built specially for it, and fixed on a high pole, 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 singing 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, bu. I ae.er heard of anything bemg done to prove it m any . ase. In that of other birds, however, this atUc'vmeut to one spot has been very clearly shown. I ..ave read somewhere of copper ' rings having been fastened round the legs of swallows, which were observed the year after to have returned,' 70 The Flight of Birds. •with 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 thousands of miles distant ? A man could not do it without all the helps he could get, I lose myself every now and then in the streets of any new city I may visit ; and as to making my way across a whole king- dom witliout asking, I fear I would make only a very zigzag progress. Some courier pigeons, which one of the Arctic voyagers took to the Far Nortli, on being let loose, made straight for the place to which they had been accustomed in Ayrshire, in an incredil)ly short time. Lithgow, the old traveller, tells us that one of these birds will caiTy 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 open at so great an elevation ! and how little, after all, can that help them on a journey of thousands of miles ! Moore's beautiful verse speaks of the intentness witli which the pigeon speeds to its goal, and how it keeps so high up in the air : — rauuMiiMJimlM I '~' ^irds. The Flight of Birds. rmer haunts. How keep a note in their . ^ take each autumn, straight to a place nan could not do it I lose myself every any new city I may across a wliole king- Id make only a very igeons, which one of Kar Nortli, on being ce to which they had an incredii)ly short , tells us that one of 1 Bagdad to Aleppo, the Eastern rate of it could have had no raight for its distant leir long flights, they ioar to a great height, le, as if surveying the I ; but what eyes they 1 a landscape as must id how little, after all, )f thousands of miles ! >f the intentness wit!i aal, and how it keeps ' The dove let loose in eastern skies, Returning fondly home, Ne'er stoops to earth her wings, nor flies Where idler warblers roam.' I have noticed that all birds, when on long flights, seek the upper regions of the air : the ducks and swans, that used to pass over us in the spring, on their way to their breeding-places in the Arctic regions, were always so high that they looked like strings of moving specks in the sky. They always fly in a certain order, the geese in single file, arranged like a great V, the two sides of it stretching far away from each other, but the birds which form the figure never losing their respective places. Some of the ducks, on the other hand, kept in wedge-shapeJ phalanxes, like the order in which Hannibal disposed his troops at the Battle of Canna;; 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 tempt- ation to alight and loiter on their way, it would bo 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 much 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 w'ay, in its swift arrowy M 7« The Flight of Birds. flight, from Canada to the far South, and back again, each year ? I am afraid we must all confess that we cannot tell. Our knowledge, of which we are some- times so proud, is a very poor affair after all. ^ ■Bi , and back again, all confess that we lich we are some- after all. CHAPTER V. Some family changes— Amusements— Cow-himting— Our ' side-- line ' — The bush — Adventures with rattlesnakes — Garter- snakes— A frog's flight for life— Black squirrels. HAVE talked so long about the farm, and the beasts, and birds, tliat I had almost forgotten to speak of some clianges 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, wh'cii was to take place about two months after her getting to the River. She must needs, when the time drew near, get back to her beloved, and had to look out her share of the furniture, &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 his blistered hands, and had groaned through every very hot day, maintaining that there would soon be nothing left of him but the bones, ' Melting moments, girls,' he would say to my sisters ; ' melting moments, as the sailor said under the line. 74 Some Family Changes. I can't stand this ; I shall go back to England.' So 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 Robert. When the day 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, though 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 we should never see Andrew again. I have always 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 at worship that night, and moved us all by praying that we might all of us lead' such Christian lives, through God's grace, thai; we might meet again in the Great Hereafter, if not in our earthly pilgrimage. He wound up the service by repeating in his very striking way — for he recited beautifully— .Burns' touching words : — ' And when, at last, we reach that coast, O'er life's rough ocean driven, May we rejoice, no wanderer lost ; A family in Heaven.' nges. : to England.' So that he should take were not sent on eave us under the I came, we all went md after a rather t of the marriage of rds — for there were lie Atlantic — of the This was the first ;rica ; and it left us there were still so care much for my be within reach, but r see Andrew again. ■ touching thing that should be separated, meet again. My ;r allusion to this at all by praying that ristian lives, through again in the Great jrimage. He wound very striking way — touching words : — that coast, ■ lost ; Anmsements. 75 After our wheat had been sown we had time to take a little leisure, and wliat 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 save the lead, the autumn passed very pleasantly. Of course it was not all play. There was plenty more forest to be cleared, and we kept at that pretty steadily, though a half-holiday or a whole one did not seem out of the way to us. 1, as the youngest, had for my morning and eveqing'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. Tlie latter were left in the woods for days together, viien we had nothing for them to do, and when we did bring them in, we always gave tliem a little salt at the barn-door to try to get them into the habit of returning of their own accord. Cattle and horses in Canada all need to be often indulged with this luxury ; the distance from the sea leaving hardly any of it in the air, or in the grass and other vegetation. It was sometimes a pleasure to go cow-hunting, as we called it, but sometimes quite the reverse. I used to set oyt, with the dogs for com- pany, straight up the blazed line at the side of our lot. I mean, up a line along which the trees had been marked by slices cut out of their sides, to show the way to the lots at the back of ours. It was all open i MiwivM'.WMw i iu'i 'w imi 76 Cow-hunting. 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 . the side line cleared for some distance beyond the turn. After this piece of civilization had been passed, however, 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 J know not how many miles. The streamlet, which was sometimes much swollen after thaws or rain, was crossed by a rough sort of bridge formed of the cuts of young trees which rested on stouter supports of the same kind, stretching from bank to bank. One of the freshets, however, 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 of a tree, which was felled so as to reach across the gap and make an apology for a bridge. It used at first to be a dreadful job to get over this primitive pathway, but J got so expert that I could run over it easily and safely enough. The dogs, however, generally preferred the water, unless when it was deep. Then there were pieces of swampy land, farther back, over which a string of felled trees, one beyond the other, offered, again, the only passage. These were the worst to cross, for the wet had generally taken off Cow-hunting, 77 id passed up from le of our farm, for . at a right angle icre was a piece of tance beyond the . had been passed, The first twelve and could almost ; ground dropped of a Httle stream, ch away in a dead ;s. The streamlet, after thaws or rain, :lge formed of the stouter supports of : to bank. One of estroyed this easy ' of crossing till it 5, or by venturing elled so as to reach y for a bridge. It J to get over this !rt that I could run rhe dogs, however, 1 when it was deep, land, farther back, s, one beyond the age. These were generally taken off the bark, and they often bent almost into the water with your 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 for the swamps ; and, Mr Stanley, do you know, 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, and 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 crop, had to be brought from the front, the same way, over these logs.' No doubt he spoke the tiruth, but, notwithstanding his gloomy recollections, it used to be grand fun to go back, except when I could not find the cows, or when they would not let themselves be driven home. The dogs would be off after a squirrel every little while, 7l Cow-hunting. though they never could catch one, or they would spla.sh into the water with a thousand gambols to refresh them- selves from the heat, and get quit of the mosquitoes. Then there can be nothing more beautiful than the woods themselves, when the leaves are in all their bravery, and the ground is varied by a thousand forms of verdure, wherever an opening lets in the sun. The trees are not broad and umbrageous like those in the parks of England. Their being crowded together makes them grow far higher before the branches begin, so that you have great high trunks on every side, like innumerable pillars in some vast cathedral, and a high open roof of green, far over head, the white and blue of* the sky filling up the openings in the fretwork of the leaves. There is always more or less undergrowth to heighten the beauty of the scene, but not enough, except in swampy places, to obscure the view, which is only closed in the distance by the closer and closer gathering of the trees as they recede. The thickness of some of these monarchs of the forest, the fine shape of others, and the vast height of nearly all ; the ex- haustless charms of the great canopy of mingled leaves and branches, and sky, and cloud above ; the piqtur- esque vistas in the openings here and there around ; the endless variety of shade, and form in the young trees springing up at intervals ; the Bowers in one spot, the rough fretting of fallen and mouldering trees, bright with every tint of fungus, or red with decay, or decked with mosses and lichens, in others, and the ir they would splash ols to refresh them- of the mosquitoes, beautiful than the 2S are in all their y a thousand forms :s in the sun. The s like those in the crowded together the branches begin, 1 on every side, like Uhedral, and a high the white and blue in the fretwork of or less undergrowth le, but not enough, ■e the view, which is 2 closer and closer ;de. The thickness forest, the fine shape nearly all ; the ex- )y of mingled leaves [ above j the piqtur- and there around ; form in the young ; flowers in one spot, [ mouldering trees, r red with decay, or in others, and the The Bush. 79 graceful oudine of broad beds of fern, contrasting with the many-coloured carpet of leaves— made if 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, and so may the sound of a cow-bell, as I have sometimes found to my sorrow. But it was only wlicn the cows or oxen could be easily got that I was disposed to think of the poetry of the journey. They always kept to- gether, and I knew the sound of our bell at any distance ; but sometimes I could not, by any listening, catch it, - the wearer having perhai)s lain down to chew the cud, and then, what a holloaing and getting up on fallen trees to look for them, and wandering till I was fairly tired. One of the oxen had for a time the honour of bearing the bell, but I found, after a while, that he added to my trouble in finding him and his friends, by his cunning, and we transferred it to one of the cows. The brute had a fixed dislike to going home, and had learned that the tinkle of the bell was a sure prelude to his being led off, to prevent which, he actually got slirewd enough to hold his head, while resting, in so still a way that he hardly made a sound. I have seen him, when I had at last hunted him up, looking side- ways 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 I 8o Adventures loith Rattlesnakes. bell making a hideous clangour, careering away over every impcilinicnt, 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 of hours to get them home, and sometimes for days together we could not find them at all. 'J'hcrc 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 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 o>^..^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 1^121 §15 m Si 12.2 I.I l."^ H^ m ■^ 11:25 III , .4 p6 ^ — ^ 6" ► «♦ vQ <^ /2 ^■ Photographic Sciences Corporation •y 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. U5M (716) err.450'1 ^>' '<^ mtMB S' CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/iCMH Collection de microfiches. : 1 Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques %ik.^, wr\ MHK3. jm^ssMMUj^m^^ss^^^sssf'i Adventures with Rattlesnakes. 8i 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 disturbed, 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 honor, 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 rushed, shouting, ' The snake, the snake ! I'm bitten, I'm bitten 1 ' Of course they were all alarmed enough, but when they came to examine, the tenor 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 Itad 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 6 8a Adventures'with Rattlesmkes. when the former saw a number of young rattlesnakes at Henry's side, and, as a good joke, for we laughed at the danger, it ^emed so slight, cried out-' Henry ! Henry ' look it the rattlesnakes !' at the same time mounting the fence to the highest rail to enjoy Henry'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 !' followed in an instant, and you way easily imagine how quickly the latter was down the outer side of the fence, and away to a safe distance, when, on doing as he was told, he saw the mother of thfe 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 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 n 'lesnakes. young rattlesnakes e, for we laughed at ried out—' Henry ! ' at the same time •ail to enjoy Henry's ; disposed to trouble :hathehad nothing ■ds David, there was other way. ' Look an instant, and you :he latter was down ay to a safe distance, \e saw the mother of a spring, which, but the next moment, f killing snakes, their o the attack for the lon't know that they end of mine saw one lake, the thickness of ig, lying over its back, lie into pork as fast as ig joint after joint. creature of its kind da, and very beautiful ;r seen without getting ledy retreat into some belter. The influence arden of Eden is fatal a ^ssj?j^'ag{^!fr^-iv^t«!^'>^vsta6saRii^^ Garter-snakes. 83 to the whole tribe of snakes, against every individual «f 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 upon 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 wherfe 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 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 Black Squirrels. 84 garter-snake swallowing a frog whole. It is amazing how fierce some of t!.e 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 ,t the farther end. Homer, in the Iliad, says that Menelaus was as brave as a flv, 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 gray 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 gray squirrel are very common, and are sometimes great pests to the farmer, making sad havoc ^vith his Indian corn while green, and with the young wheat. In Pennsyl- vania this at one time came to such a pitch that a law was passed, offering threepence ahead for every one destroyed, which resulted, in 1749, i" ^8000 being paid in one year as head-money for those killed. Their great numbers sometimes develop strange in- stincts, 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 JH^ ^ rels. vhole. It is amazing kcs are. I have seen gth dart at a walking- urbed with a force so id it the farther end. lenelaus was as brave darts once and again : driven away ; but he mparison for his hero, thicker than a pencil a man's hand. :ation now and then, were capital eating, ler the gray or the red I rabbits, from which, listinguish them when ey and the gray squirrel netimes great pests to ; with his Indian corn g wheat. In Pennsyl- such a pitch that a law e a head for every one 1749, in 5^8000 being loney for those killed, es develop strange in- lose we might expect, e other unknown cause, rict will at times take it gular migration to some Black Squirrels. »5 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, allow- ing nothing whatever — be it mountain or river — to stop them. We ourselves had pr9of 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 dis- cussed the policy to be pursued, was not known ; but If IS certain that squirreldom at large decided on a united course of action. Having come to this de- termination, they gathered, 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 thousands 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 1 What led them to go to the south rather than to 86 Black Squirrels. the north? There were no woods ir 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 what- ever. • . The black squirrels are very hardy. You may see them in the woods, even in the middle of winter, when their red or gray brethren, and the little ground squirrels, are not to be seen. On bright days, however, even these more delicate creatures venture out, to see what the world is like, after their long seclusion 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 of cold and frost, 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 disUnces to their nests, if food be rather scarce, or if they ftid 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 widi as many as tiiey can manage to steal. k. 87 is in sight on the )rests enough in the e to the conclusion, ,t the lower creatures have no idea what- irdy. You may see ; middle of winter, en, and the little seen. On bright 5 delicate creatures world is like, after H>les in the trees, unt of food in the uent to keep them and frost, and their for the season when ir reach is a capital > from great distances carce, or if they fhid or a treat in winter, out in great numbers 1 off with as many as V 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 autumns — 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 bonis. [FEARING 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, however, before speaking of ou»- adventures on the waters, I had better describe this new purchase, and the scene of its transference to our hands, wh'ch 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 skiff. Man wmtm 38 Spearing Fish. It must have taken a long time to finish, but time is of no value to an Indian. Indeed, the longer any- thing takes him the better, as it gives hm. at least something to do, when, otherwise, he would hkely have relapsed into total idleness. There .s no keel on canoes, but only a round bottom, and the ends are sharp and both alike. Of course, such a vesse has a natural facihty at rolling, and needs only the shghtest aid on your part to turn in the water hke a log, so that safety depends very much on your bemg steady, and not leaning, under any circumstances, to either side In some parts of Canada they are made of the ■tough, hght bark of the birch tree, which is sewed into a ion sheet, and stretched over a light but strong framework of the desired shape. Before usu.g it, the barkSs thoroughly soaked in oil to make it waterproof When finished, such a canoe is really elegant, nsmg high into a wide circular form at the ends, winch are „,ade very sharp to cut the water easily. I have seen them beautifully finished, with differently coloured porcupine quills worked into the edges, and fanaful 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 foifr 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 con darn them hke a stock- ing or patch them like a shoe, using wire, however. •Jl. spearing Fish. 89 ) finish, but time is eed, the longer any- t gives him at least ise, he would likely 5. There is no keel om, and the ends are ;, such a vessel has a eeds only the slightest e water like a log, so on your being steady, ■cumstances, to either I they are made of the ;e, which is sewed into ,er a light but strong ;. Before using it, the 1 to make it waterproof. ^ is really elegant, rising at the ends, which are :er easily, I have seen th differently coloured the edges, and fanciful are so light that one :n weighs only a few asily carried by three or 3 elastic that they yield canoe of wood. When imsing to see how easily darn them like a stock- loe, using wire, however, instead of thread, and making all 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 tlie low estimate ,of his mechanical powers sometimes heard. If we wonder at the contrast 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 England, 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 surface of the ground. One was dii-rovered 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 back- bone. Others, found 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 hollow trees have been used for the first steps of navigation, and the birch-bark cano? still finds a representative in the coracle which the Welsh go Spearing Fish. fisherman carries home on his back after using it, as his ancestors have done for generation after generation, while the Greenlander goes to sea in his hght kaiack of seal-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 cauoe is propelled by paddles, which are short oars, with a broader blade. They are held in both hands, sq 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 hi^^5elf in any particular direction. The one we bought was, as I have said, far too heavy for com- fortable 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 j 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 known enough. The Indian who sold it to us paddled up with it, with his wife in it with him, one morning, his dress being a dirty printed calico shirt, and a pair of cloth leggings ; hers, the never-failing blanket, and leggings, like those ^'•/t^titrnttitim ^^..'^:^M&.i.Ai..r^,. ■MMiHiailK k after using it, as on after generation, in liis light kaiack tant of Babylon, as lis goods down the of skins stretched jpelled by paddles, ader blade. They I single person has ; one in each hand, ,t. An Indian in a nd, and strikes his le alternately, every ind as a rudder, to ction. The one we too heavy for com- I believe, for that e it empty than to ; — at least we came r at first than to like ng of the weight we water. The price, gh more than would tiown enough. The up with it, with his ;, his dress being a ir of cloth leggings ; I leggings, like those mniamimt ]) Spearing Fisk. 9» of her husband. They were both rather cHcrly, and by 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 wonis, * 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 eno ig.. enterc^ ?"t( temptation, having determined, some imie before, to buy one. Like everyone olse in Canada, ..e seemed naturally to think that bad English makes good Indian, and pursued the dialogue somewliat 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 towards them, ' dollar,' making, immediately after, an imitation of smoking, to stand for an ad- ditional value in tobacco. Robert — ' Why you sell ? ' Indian— No answer, but a grunt, which might either hide a wish to decline a difficult question, by pretend- ing ignorance, or anything else we like to suppose." Then followed more dumb-show, to let us know what ^i^ 9* Spearing Fish. a treasure 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 EngHsh following a number of inquiries. After a time the bargain was struck, and having received the money and the tobacco, he and his spouse departed, laughing in their sleeve, I dare say, at their success in getting a canoe well sold which needed two or three men to propel it at a reasonable rate. It was with this aflfair 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 stern 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 j but in very deep water the spear could not get down quickly enough, while the position of the fish itself was changed so much by the refrac- tion of the light, that it was very hard to hit it even if we were not too slow. The stillness of the nights — the Fish, I. My brother found it n from him, nothing but ,vo of English following a time the bargain was . the money and the parted, laughing in their :cess in getting a canoe r three men to propel it used to go out on our iset, like those used in lights, and a spear with e, were all the apparatus xed in the bows of the le kindled in it, threw a I the water. Only very here was any ripple the en it was perfectly calm ting it a-fire, one of us le light, spear in hand, another seated himself i, with the least possible liallow edge of the river, ber of feet down, resting J deep water the spear lOugh, while the position so much by the refrac- ery hard to hit it even if illness of the nights — the Spearing Fish. 93 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 few 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 rtal and the apparent spot for which to aim, we got the secret of the art, and giadually managed to become pretty good marksipen. 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 would move us towards it, my brother motioning me with his hand either to liold 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 94 Hmry's Cold Bath. poised. ' Will he dart off ? ' 'He moves a little— ah ! there's a great pike j make a dart at him — ^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 plain 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 over- balanced 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 unfortunate wight vented his indignation on the poor fish, which, by most extraordinary logic, he blamed for his calamity. I couldn't for the world help laiighing ; nor could Henry himself, when he had got a little over his first feelings of astonishment and mortification. The quantity of fish that some can get in a night's spearing is often wonderful. I have watched Cour- tenay, on a night when fish were plenty, lifting them from the water almost every minute, though very few were larger than herrings, and he had only their backs at which to aim. In some parts of Canada there was higher game than in our waters — the salmon-trout, which is often as large as our salmon, and the ' maske- longe,' a corruption of the French words ' masque ' and ' longue,' a kind of pike with a projecting snout, . . .»^li;ai>?!f ^>SW;:r-.y,^v;.>.j;,,jfa^^ ,,.,,,^,. ith. moves a little — ah ! it him — ^whew, he's ; bare ground was vhite-fish, and in a ransfix it, and then, 1 of the canoe. But us, for Henry was It, one night, when ss he saw, he over- went in along with ivater was not deep 'ou may be sure we t. Picking himself his indignation on •aordinary logic, he dn't for the world himself, when he igs of astonishment can get in a night's ave watched Cour- plenty, lifting them te, though very few ad only their backs r Canada there was —the salmon-trout, m, and the ' maske- h words ' masque ' a projecting snout, Canadian Thunderstorms. 95 whence its name — offering a prize of which we could not boast. It must be hard work to get siich prey out of the water, but the harder it is the more exciting is the sport for those who are strong enough. The Indians in some districts live to a great extent on the fish they get in this way. I had almost forgotten to speak of the thunder and lightning which broke on the sultriness of our hottest Slimmer weather. Rain is much less frequent in Canada than in Britain, but when it does come, it often comes in earnest. It used to rebound from the ground for inches, and a very few minutes were suffi- cient to make small torrents run down every slope in tlie ground. When we afterwards had a garden in front of the house, we found it was almost impossible to keep the soil on it from the violence of the rains. Indeed, we gave up the attempt on finding everything we tried fail, and sowed it all with grass, to the great delight of the calves, to whom it was made over as a nursery. There is music, no doubt, in the sound of rain, both in the light patter of a summer shower, and in the big drops that dance on the ground ; but there are differences 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 them, 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. _.,J, [Hii, 96 Canadian Thunderstorms. It was often accompanied by thunder and lightning, such as those who live in cooler climatLS seldom hear or see. The amount of the electricity in the atmos- phere of any country depends very much on the heat of the weather. Captain Grahame, who had com- manded 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 regu- larly at that hour, accompanied with wind so terrible that the canvas of the sliip would often have been torn into ribbons, and knotted into hard lumps, if he had not done so. Thunderstorms are not so exact nor so frequent in Canada, but they came too often 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 ^ards of the house, the noise exceeding anything I ever heard before or since. You don't know what thunder is till a cloud is fired that way at your ear. Our poor dog Yorick, which we had brought from England with us, was so terrified at the violence of the storms that broke over us once and again, that he used to jump in through any open window, if the door were shut, and hide himself under the bed till all was quiet. He lost his life at last, poor brute, through his terror at thunder, for one day when it had come on, the windows and doors happening to be closed, he rushed into the woods in his mortal fear, and coming on the shanty of a settler, flew in and secreted himself below •storms. nder and lightning, imati-s seldom hear tricity in the atmos- \f much on the heat ne, who had com- dia station, told me It, in the Straits of s to be furled every rm coming on regu- ith wind so terrible Id often have been to hard lumps, if he (IS are not so exact ;y came too often in startled out of my St have burst within 5 exceeding anything ou don't know what :hat way at your ear. J had brought from It the violence of the id again, that he used dow, if the door were bed till all was quiet, te, through his terror t had come on, the be closed, he rushed •, and coming on the ;creted himself below Canadian Thunderstorms. 97 his accustomed shelter, the bed. The owner of the house, not knowing the facts of the case, naturally enough took it for granted that the dog was mad, and forthwith put an end to his troubles by shooting him. It was a great grief to us all to lose so kind and intelligent a creature, but we could hardly blame his destroyer. There is a wonderful sublimity sometimes in the darkness and solemn hush of nature that goes before one of these storms. It seems as if the pulse of all things were stopped. The leaves tremble, though there is not a breath of wind ; the birds either hide in the forest, or fly low, in terror ; the waters look black, and are ruffled over all their surface. It seems as if all things around knew of the impending terrors. I never was more awed in my life, I think, than at the sight of the heavens and the accompanying suspense of nature one afternoon, in the first summer we were on the river. The tempest had not burst, but it lay in the bosom of portentous clouds, of a strange, un- earthly look and colour, that 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 7 ^8 Canadian Thunderstorms. not, dared not stir, but stood where I was till the great grey masses, through which it seemed as i I Lid see the shimmer of the aerial fires, had saded slowly over to the other side of the river, and the hght, in part, returned. The lightning used to leave cunous traces of its visits in its effects on isolated trees all round There was a huge pine in a field at the back of the house that had been its sport more than once. Ihe great top had been torn off, a^id the trunk was split mto 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. Ihe telegraph-posts, since they have been erected, have been an especial attraction. I have seen fully a dozen of thqn in one long stretch split up, and torn spirally, through their whole length, by a flash which had slruck the wire and run along it. That more people are not killed by it seems wonderful; yet there are many accidents of this kind, after all. In the first or second year of our settlement a widow lady, living a few miles up the river, was found dead in her bed killed in a storm, and we afterwards heard of several others perishing in the same way. Hail often accompanies thunder and lightnmg m Canada, and the pieces are sometimes of a size that lets one sympathize with the Egyptians when Moses sent down a similar visitation on them. I remember reading of a hailstorm on the Black Sea in the midst wmiUtitM torms. ere I was till the it seemed as if I il fires, had sailed river, and the light, irious traces of its s all round. There back of the house a cnce. The great runk was split into sides. Many others :s had been ploughed )p to bottom. The been erected, have ve seen fully a dozen up, and torn spirally, lash which had struck more people are not yet there are many In the first or second .dy, living a few miles , her bed killed in a rd of several others der and lightning in letimes of a size that Egyptians when Moses n them. I remember ;lack Sea in the midst Our Golden Autumns, 99 of hot weather, the pieces in which were, some of them, a pound weight, threatening death to any one they might strike. I never saw them such a size in Canada, but used to think that it was bad enough to have them an inch and a half long. They must be formed by a cloud being whirled up, by some current in the air, to such a height as freezes its contents even in the heat of summer. The weather in the fall was delightful — better, I think, than in any other season of the year. Getting its name from the beginning of the fall of the leaves, this season lasts on till winter pushes it aside. Day after day was bright and almost cloudless, and the heat had passed into a balmy mildness, which made the very feeling of being alive a pleasure. Every- thing combined to make the landscape beautiful. The great resplendent river, flowing so softly it seemed scarce to move — its bosom a broad sheet of molten silver, on which clouds, and sky, and white sails, and even the farther banks, with the houses, and fields, and woods, far 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 /« 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. lOO Our Golden Autumns. And what shall I say of the sunsets? Milton says — ' Now came still evening on, and twilight grey Had in her sober livery all tlnhg'* 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 flammg gold; while here and there branches on which the sun shone at a different 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 sta^s. , By the beginning of September the first frosts 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; though, indeed, a feeling of sadness was always asso- ciated with these autumnal splendours, connected as they are, like the last colours of the dolphin, with thoughts of decay and death. With each day. after the change had commenced, the beauty increased. Each kind of tree-the oak, the elm, the beach, the ash, the birch, the walnut, and, above all, the niaple -had its own hue, and every hue was lovely. Then there were the solemn pines, and tamaracks, and ce- mns. > sunsets? Milton twilight grey Ti; clad.' those autumn days. , and air, and sky. he setting sun, were nch, and leaf; and luses were flaming iches on which the seemed light itself; se purple, till, while , and faded, through nto the dark-blue of r the first frosts had ge of colour in the when this has taken leir greatest beauty; ess was always asso- idours, connected as of the dolphin, with With each day, after he beauty increased. I elm, the beach, the above all, the maple .le was lovely. Then id tamaracks, and ce- The Change of the Leaf . lor dars, setting off the charms of their gayer brethren by their sober green, which at a distance looked almost black. The maple-leaf, the first to colour, remained, throughout, the most beautiful, in its golden yellow and crimson. No wonder it has become to Canada what the shamrock is to Ireland, or the rose and the thistle to England and Scotland. The woods looked finest, I think, when the tints are just beginning, and green, yellow, and scarlet are mingled in every shade of transition. But what sheets of golden flame they became after a time ! Then every leaf had something of its own in which it differed from all others. Yonder, the colours blended together into pink of the brightest tint ; then came a dash of lilac and blue, and, away by itself, a clump rose, like an islet, of glowing red gold. Lofty trees, and humble undergrowth, and climbing creepers — all alike owned the magic influence, and decked the landscape with every tint that can be borrowed from the light, till the whole looked like the scenery of some fairy tale. The sunsets, as the year deepened into winter, grew, I thought, if possible, more and more glorious. The light sank behind mountains of gold and puqjle, and shot up its splendours, 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 left us in paler and paler green. BM loa Indian Summer. I have seen every tree turned into golc. as I looked across 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 so lovely. The Indian summer came with the end of October 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 soft mist hung over the whole panorama round us, mellow- ing everything to a pecular spiritual beauty. The sun rose, and travelled through the day, and set, behmd a veil of hlze, through which it showed like a great crate of glowing embers. As it rose, the haze reddened higher and higher up the sky, till, at noon, the heavens were like the hollow of a vast half-transparent rose, shutting out the blue. It was like the dreamy days of Thomson's 'Castle of Indolence,' where everythmg invited to repose. You could look at the sun at any hour and yet the view around was not destroyed, but rathe, made more lovely. What the cause of this phenomenon may be I have never been able to find out One writer suggests one thing, and another something else ; but it seems as if nobody knew the true reason of it. If I might venture a guess, I would say that perhaps it arises from the condensaUcn of the golfi as I looked . Milman speaks :n air of heaven.' lie image a reality, IS he gazes on the gs, to think how if this one be so he end of October ieal of rain having , it was deliciously I England. A soft round us, mellow- beauty. The sun ', and set, behind a :d like a great crate the haze reddened t noon, the heavens ilf-transparent rose, the dreamy days of ' where everything k at the sun at any 5 not destroyed, but the cause of this :r been able to find thing, and another if nobody knew the ure a guess, I would condensation of the Indian Summer. tO| vapours of the earth by the first fiosts, while the summer and autumn heats are yet great enough in the soil to cause them to rise in abundance. Both before and after the Indian summer the first unmistakcabie heralds of winter visited us, in the shape of morning hoar-frost, which melted away as the day advanced. It was wonderfully beautiful to look at it, in its effects on the infinitely-varied colours of the leaves which still clung to the trees. Its silv^ dust, powdered over the golden yellow of some, and the bright-red, or dark-brown, or green of others, the minutest outline of each preserved, looked charming in the extreme. Then, not only the leaves, but the trunks, nnd branches, and lightest sprays, were crusted with the same snowy film, till, as far as the eye could reach, it seemed as if some magical transformation had happened in the night, and a mockery of nature had been moulded in white. But what shall I say of the scene when the sun came up in the east, to have his look at it as well as we ? What rainbow tints of every possible shade ! 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 wells and natural reservoirs, so as to secure a plentiful supply of 104 ^/'^ -^^^^ Rains and the Roads. 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, they 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-continued tropical rains. All I Ivive said of our journey 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 extemporize some repair of their broken-down waggons or vehicles. One pitchy night I came upon two who were intensely busy, by the light of a lantern, mending a waggon, with the help o» a saw, an auger, an axe, and a rope. Of course, I stopped to offer assistance, but I had come only in time to be too late, and was answered that my help was not wanted. ' All's right— there's no use making a fuss— Jirii, take back them things where you got them, and let's go a-head.' As to thanks for my offer, it would have been extravagant to expect them. They had cobbled their vehicle, and, on Jim's return, vere off into the darkness as coolly as if nothing had happened. The dangers of the roads are a regular part of the calculations of the back-country Canadians, to encounter which they carry an axe, a wrench, and a piece of rope, which are generally enough for the rude wheelwright surgery required. • It is amusing to he Roads. e welcome enoiif^h e, with the river at ■ithoiit them. Ikit, yr were a cause of )wns, the roads all ays, what most of 1(1 hence you may lucd tropical rains, he river in the early lach returning fall. or two to borrow ize some repair of hides. One pitchy : intensely busy, by a waggon, with the 1, and a rope. Of ce, but I had come as answered that my ,ht — there's no use :m things where you ^s to thanks for my jant to expect them, ind, on Jim's return, lly as if nothing had roads are a regular c-country Canadians, 1 axe, a wrench, and rally enough for the d. • It is amusing to The Fall Rains and the Roads. 105 hear wiin what i)crfect indifference they treat mis- adventures which would totally disconcert an Old Countryman. I remember a man whom 1 met patch- ing up his light waggon— which is the name for a four-wheeled gig— setting me laughing at his account of his triumpiis over all the accidents of travel. ' I never was stopped yet,' he went on to assure me. ' Once I was in my buggy and the tire of one of the wheels came off without my noticing ; I ran back some miles to try if . ould get it, but I couldn't find it. I3ut I guess 1 1... ver say die, so I took a rail and stuck it in below the lame corner, and I tell you we made the dust fly ! ' A little brick church had been built about two miles from us, some time before we came to the river, but the mud was a sore hindrance to such of the congre- gation as could not come by water. Any attempt at week-night meetings of any kind was, of course, out of the question. We were pretty nearly close prisoners 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 frost 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 honey- comb by the oxen and horses, and cut into longitu- dinal holes by the wheels, then frozen, in this state, in a night, into stone, I once had to ride nearly sixty ««n UHMIi* 1 o6 The Fall Rains and the Roads. miles over such a set of pitfalls. My brother, Frederic, was -.-ith 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 per- mitted the stage to run for my further journey. We were two days on the way, and such days. The ther- mometer was below zero, our breath froze on our eye- lashes every minute, und the horses had long icicles at their noses, and yet we< could only stumble on at a slow walk, the horses picking their steps with the greatest difficulty, and every now and then coming down almost on their knees. Sometimes we got sc cold we had to get off and walk with the bridles or our arms ; and then there was the getting Frederi( mounted again. I thought we should never get to th( end of the first day's ride. It got dark long befor we reached it, and we were afraid to sit any longer oi the horses, so that we finished it by groping in th pitchy darkness, as well as we could, for some miles. The first snow fell in November, and lay, that yea from that time until April. The climate has becom much milder since, from the great extent of the clea ings, I suppose, so that snow does not lie, now-a-day as it did then, and does not begin for nearly a moni later. I have often heard Canadians deploring i\ change in this respect, as, indeed, they well may in tl rougher parts of the country, for the winter snow, \ filling up the holes in the roads and freezing the w and the Roads. ills. My brother, Frederic, slipped in the stable and at I had almost to lift him ; with me to lead back my end, where the roads per- r my further journey. We and such days. The ther- ur breath froze on our eye- he horses had long icicles could only stumble on at a eking their steps with the ery now and then coming ;es. Sometimes we got so id walk with the bridles on e was the getting Frederic it we should never get to the ;. It got dark long before e afraid to sit any longer on lished it by groping in the 5 we could, for some miles, lovember, and lay, that year, , The climate has become ;he great extent of the clear- low does not lie, now-a-days, lot begin for nearly a month •d Canadians deploring the , indeed, they well may in the ntry, for the winter snow, by 2 roads and freezing the wet The First Snow. 107 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 tiie 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 accumulation became quite formidable by spring. It was never so bad, however, by any means, as aj Quebec, where the houses have flights of steps up to the doors to let folks always get in and out through the winter, the doors being put at high snow-mark, if I may so speak. I have sometimes seen the stumps quite hidden and the fences dv/arfed to a very Lilliputian height ; but, of late years, there have been some winters when there has hardly been enough to cover the ground, and tlie 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 appearance of Canada in winter, thinking, as I re- member we did that we should have almost to get down to 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 1 'Id glory in the bush, and lies for months together, instead of melting off in a few day?. Canada in Winter. io8 given by a very > respecting it by I^ke Huron, as the epoin^^^ ^^ .^^^^^^^ ,n Englishman to his n ends - ^^^^^^ ntrd:'r::rre:;:--^^-^ "'t ^heat or stung to death by mosquitoes, and, ,p by the heat or g ^^ ^^^ ^^^^ for the other fou , if y .^ ^.^^^^^ ^^ ^y r 7 ? Tth ev^ thJs arrayed are bad enough, the frost. All tne ev imagmation .but the »ri,e.s humou, ,o,n=d « * h« . g , to making an »«"8=o»s c^.ca.ur= « pe*aps, say as "^^'^'^ ^ j remember travel- .ith a nearer .approach^^^^^^^^ Wolverhampton to U„g .ith one -J^; -^;';; .^ ^^^.^r, whose opinion London on a very bad aay _ of the English climate -. V^^-^^^^; ^^,,,,y, ,3 „ate-ifs only yellow fo^-' ^°^^ ,^ ...Jntful true an EngUshman . ever Iwed^ m ^^^^^^ .^ .^ ^ letters published m his Life, cons y ^^ most extraordinary ^^rteVot^^ country in others who abuse that of every ^^^ ^^^^.^^ .hich they ^^--^.^° Hnd 1st always set the just as we would like t, an ^ bright side over ^g^^"^^ ;^^^, ^;^^-^ ^^^J^, some think that, though Canada has U J^^ seasons, and redeeming points m all. there P nter. the towns and cities, e Canadian climate dead, Dr Dunlop, of wme respecting it by whom he informed, • you were up to 'the )u were either burned 1 by mosquitoes, and, iged to get your nose . have it bitten off by rrayed are bad enough, 1 with his imagination cature when he spoke about England, would, s climate, and, perhaps, ;h. I remember travel- rom Wolverhampton to n winter, whose opinion 'cleemate, it's no clee- .' Robert Southey, as "lived, in the delightful constantly abuses it in a .d I suppose there are every other country in We can have nothing md must always set the le dark. For my part, I has its charms at some Its in all, there is no place Climate in America. 109 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 by many to have been like that of Canada now. Horace hints at ice and snow being no strangers at Rome in the time of Augustus. Caesar led his army over the frozen Rhone; and, as to Germany, the description of its climate in Tacitus is fit to make one shiver. 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 isiand that has made the change in its case, the wind that blows J A Winter Landscape. tto 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 stnkuig 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, makmg the landscape look most amazingly wmtry But I don't think any one in Canada ever heard of such a quantity lodging on them as to make such an occur- rence as Mrs Mary Somerville quotes from some traveller in her ' Physical Geography,' where she tells us that the weight of it on the broad fronds of the pine-trees is so great, that, when the wind rises and swafs tliem to and fro, they often tumble agamst each other with such force as to overthrow great numbers, over large tracts of country. Such ' ice-storms, as she calls them, I never heard of, nor did I ever meet with any one who did. Indeed, I rather think them im- possible, from the mere fact that, though the force with which the first tree struck the second might be enough to throw /•/ down, that of the second would be much weaker on a third, and thus the destruction would cease almost at once, instead of spreading far and wide. It must be some curious and incorrect version of the terrible tornadoes of summer which she has quoted. The snow itself used to give me consUnt pleasure in looking at it minutely. The beautiful shapes you 11 «• \scape. \ cooler in summer t which blows over al effect of the hoar- ow is equally striking. 2S to get itself heaped ; and cedars, and even ,f other trees, making ;ingly wintry. But I ever heard of such a make such an occur- e quotes from some ■aphy,' where she tells 2 broad fronds of the en the wind rises and ;n tumble against each ;rthrow great numbers, ich ' ice-storms,' as she ,r did I ever meet with rather think them im- ,t, though the force with econd might be enough second would be much the destruction would f spreading far and wide, incorrect version of the ivhich she has quoted, e me constant pleasure [le beautiful shapes you Snow Crystals. Ill see in the kaleidoscope are not more wonderful than those of the crystals of which it was made up. Stars, crosses, diamonds, and I know not what other shapes, as large almost as a shilling, shone round you in mil- lions when the sun - ^nt his glittering light on them, except in very co.v. ,ather, for then the snow was only a dry powder. What a wonderful thing crystalliza- tion is ! If you think of it for a moment you will be amazed and awed, for it brings us as if face to face with God. How is it that the particles of snow range themselves in the most perfect forms, far more beau- tifully than any jeweller could make the most costly ornament? There is never an error— never anything like a failure. Every atom of the dead, cold snow lias 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 exquisite 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 per- fect 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, which no magnifying power can make visible, being carved and pierced and fretted into the most lovely shapes and patterns ? The great power of God is, I think, shown even more wonderfully in the smallest than in the largest of His 1 1 a Minnie Perfection of God's Works. 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, which is a very little larger than a pea, and is quite transparent — was long thought to have no special wonders in its stnicture ; 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 iiito each other by sixty-two thousand millions of teeth ! The grasshopper has two hundred and seventy horny teeth, set in rows in 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- scopisf— 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 in which the little feathers are laid on a butterfly's wing in such charming spots and bars of different colours ? I was looking soine time since at a butterfly, which was of the most perfect azure blue when you looked do\vn on it, but changed, when you saw it sideways, from one shade to another, and asked an entomologist how it was it had so many different God's Works. ve skill are lavished than on its larger 5 inanimate nature, -that is, the central e larger than a pea, thought to have no but the microscope red a mere piece of nillions of distinct I other by sixty-two he grasshopper has eeth, set in rows in as been written on At Bilin, in Hun- ch the great micro- •ase sometimes is — 5t, nearly altogether, hundred and thirty )nly about twice the ickgammon, and yet with a coat of mail can be more lovely feathers are laid on ig spots and bars of ; some time since at ;t perfect azure blue t changed, v;hen you o another, and asked id so many different Minufe Perfection of God's Works. 1 13 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 soft flakes ; but in very cold weather it comes down almost in powder, and crackles below the feet at each step. The first showers seldom lie the au- 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 i and n,. one extraordinary December, ploughs were' actually going on Christmas-day; but this was as great 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 not 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 bam and to the road • but after a time a thaw came for a day or so, and 8 Deer-shooting. 114 some rain fell, and then the surface of the snow froze so firmly that even the oxen could walk over it m any direction without breaking through. The falling of tlie 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, and also making them less timid, by forcmg them to 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, m im- agination, whole herds of stags which he had brought down. Frederic, who had been left in Toronto, hav- ing suffered in health by the confinement of his office, had given it up, and had joined us some time before this, so that there were now five of us, besides my two' sisters. We had three rifles and one gun, the rifle which David carried being an especially good one. But he was the poorest shot of us all, and Robert was too nervous to be sure of his aim ; but Henry was as cool before a stag as if it had been a rabbit. We were all in a state of great eagerness to commence, and had already looked out white clothes to put on over our ordinary suit, that we might be more like the snow ; an extra supply of bullets and powder had been put into our pouches and flasks ; and we had pestered every one, for weeks before, with every possible question as to what we were to do when we set out. On the eventful day my brothers, Robert, Henry, and David, got Deer-shooting. "5 of the snow froze d walk over it in ugh. great time for the le deer were then soft, showing their 5 timid, by forcing r food. Our rifles ;t order as soon as of us saw, in ira- ich he had brought :ft in Toronto, hav- lement of his office, s some time before of us, besides my and one gun, the an especially good hot of us all, and ire of his aim ; but I as if it had been : of great eagerness looked out white inary suit, that we an extra supply of It into our pouches Ted every one, for ! question as to what t. On the eventful iry, and David, got their rifles on their shoulders immediately after breakfast, and, having determined on taking each a different road, struck into the woods as each thought best. Shortly before dark we heard David's voice in the clearing, and, soon after, Robert and Henry made their appearance. We were all out in a moment to see what they had got, but found them by no means disposed to be talkative about their adventures. We gradually learned, however, that tliey had all had a hard day's trudge through the rough wearisome woods, and that Robert had had one good chance through the day, but was so flus- tered when the deer sprang away through the trefes 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 he would have brought it down. Henry said that, 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 Uved near us, until they had caught the art from him. Henry went out with an Indian, also, ii6 Deer-shooting, 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 liftle 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 letting thtia hear or smell him. He had to dodge from tree to tree, and would look out every minute to see if they were still there. Several times 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 gdt 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 i e able to manage of killing the first its horns. He had little while he saw It had been disap- len, at last, he came tender tips of the m. Then came the get within shot of or smell him. He and would look out still there. Several ,nd looked all round him almost hold his do so ; but, at last, 1 good aim at it from A spring forward, showed that he had ely fall, but ran off s. Instantly dashing ood, Henry followed 'hich every here and ight at first he would Ired yards, but it led y two miles before he ;ontinued to run until I had overpowered it, ry reached it. It was link of carrying home >*!:: .'', Dcer-sJiooting. n^ himself, so that he determined to cut it up, arid 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 long knife and a small axe with him; and, after cutting the throat to let off what blood still remained, the creature being still warm, he was not very long of stripping It of its skin and hanging up its dismembered body, for preservation from the wolves through the night. This done, he made the best of his way home to tell us his achievement. , , Next day, we had a grand banquet on venisor- 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 awav. 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 rmssed on the ice. David reached the bank fir^^- ; ,, i, naturally enough, thinking that ice which f- ..re u^ x .arge deer would bear him up, stepi-^^; on : to continue the pursuit. But he had forgcae.-. ih^.^ the deer had M ii8 Deer-shooting. <■! four legs, and thus pressed comparatively little on any one part, whereas his whole weight was ou 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 .he stream on a log, and followed the track Tor some dis- tance farther, but gave up the chase on finding it likely to be unavailing. When we first came to live on the river, the d.-. 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 Deer-shooting. 119 paratively little on weight was on on',' ; middle when in '.le Idle in the freezing enough to cool his ! had him back to could get out of his [enry got over .he ; track Tor some dis- chase on finding it I the river, the dv.er ' in the first winter :m, of some eight or imong our cattle, on jd for them. Browse, for the tender twigs :ed by the oxen and that we used to cut leave them with the ;fit of our four-footed . a chance of bagging hed in for his rifle at : loaded, although he nth incredible haste, ng him powder, ball, ited danger, and were t 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 ot 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 flasheu in the light, and the little craft skimmed the calm water like an arrow. They were soon very close to the great creature, which flew faster than ever, and then a bullet from Courtenay's rifle ended the chase in a moment. The stag was instantly seized to prevent its sinking, and dragged 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 wounded a fawn which was following its mother, and as usual ran up to secure and kill it. But to his astonishment, the maternal afl"ection of the doe had so overcome its timidity, that, instead of fleeing t'ne moment it heard the shot, it would not leave its •,.'v r '•' "ding young one, but turned on him, and made ch vigorous rushes towards him, again and ag2 r. that it was only by making all kinds of noise ;. o uld frighten her far enough back to let him get hold of tl-j fawn at last. I wsh that instead of merely runnmg at aim, the loving-hearted creature I20 Useless Cruelty. .!• I 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 comes to think of it. To go out, as I have seen both inen and boys do, to shoot the sweet little singing '< ■ ' ill the hedges, or the lark when he is flut- i.eri Uown, after having filled' the rar with music, or the ,ow-flying seagulls, as they sail heavily near the shore, can only give a pleasure so long as those who indulge in it do not reflect on its cruelty. I remember, when a boy, being often very much struck with this, bvii, mor; especially, once, when a boy shot a male thrush, as it was bringing home a litde worm for its young ones, which would 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 Useless Cruelty. •ftt^ ler head; it ;lty. Taking hen there is in view. To other living t, when one Lve seen both little singing n he is flut- • with music, heavily near ong as those s cruelty. I much struck ;n a boy shot a little worm cely die when a man shot a ■, from which here it would I released by at all seasons, II the settled 2re are game liin which, to to be hoped is of. use only ts, 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. They 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, and still 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- ginian, and, though not so large as some others, their long, open ears, and graceful tails— longer than those of 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 pa-r begin to make their appearance, the first sign of their coming being a swelling of the skin over the spots from I ^v 122 Shedding of the Stag's Horns. 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- pidity, the bony matter of which the horns are com- posed. As the antlers grow, the skin still stretclies over them, and continues to do so, till they have reached their full size, and have become quite hard and solid, and forms a beautiful velvet covering, which is, in reality, underneath, nothing but a great tissue of blood-vessels for supplying the necessary circulation. l"he arteries which run up from the V»nd, through it, are, meanwhile, so large, that they make furrows on the soft horns underneath ; and it is these JtJiat 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 now 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 ■••s. are now bud- ks from which ; beginning to with great ra- loms are com- i still stretclies till they have )me quite hard elvet covering, ng but a great the necessary \ up from the large, that they ;meath ; and it 5 on the horns full-grown they still over them, as yet, make no moved, but not blood flowing id be turned to id death be the the end at the ;h ring of bone se of the horns being left in it, iss. Gradually, ;d by fresh bone 11 at length the Shedding of ihe Stag's Horns. 1 23 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 off, 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 the plan of re- ducing the great swellings of the arteries in human beings which are called aneurisms, by tying them up — a mode which, in certain cases, is found quite effectual, fhe highest thoughts of genius are thus frequently only new applications of principles and modes of operation which God has established in the humblest orders of nature, from tlie 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 furnished by ail 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. The}* 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 i 1 24 Shedding of the Stag's Horns. it is. Beginning with the single horn of ihe 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 than hair stuck together ? K ( 125 CHAPTER VII. Wolves— My adventure virith a bear— Courtenny's cow and the wolves— A fright 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. 1, li jHE wolves used to favour us by howling at nights, close at hand, till the sound made one miserable. We had five sheep destroyed in the barn-yard on one of these occasions, nothing being done to them beyond tearing the throats open and drinking the Mood. Perhaps the wolves had been disturbed at their feast I never heard of any one being killed by them, but they sometimes put benighted travellers in danger. One night, Henry was coming home from a neighbour's, in the bright moonlight, and had almost reached our clearing, when, to his horror, he heard the cry of some wolves behind him, and, feeling sure they wished to make their supper at his expense, he made off, with the fastest heels he could, to a tree that stood by itself, and was easily climbed. Into this he got just in time to save himself, for the wolves were already at the foot of it, whtn he had made good his seat across a bough. 126 Wolves. The night was fearfully cold, and he mast soon have frozen to death had he not, providentially, been 80 near the house. As it was, his loud whisding for the dogs, and his shouts, were, fortunately, heard, and- some of us sallying out, he was delivered from his perilous position. Wolves are much scarcer now, however, 1 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 regions 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, m one of his earlier journeys, often came upon the remains of deer which had been hemmed in by them and driven over precipices. 'Whilst the deer are qmedy grazing,' slys he, 'the wolves assemble m 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 off their retreat across the plain, they move more quickly, and with hideous yells terrify their prey and urge them to flight by the only open way, which is towards the precipice, appearing to know that when the herd is at full speed it is easily driven over the cliffs, the rear-most urging on those that are before. The wolves then descend at leisure and feed on the mangled catcasses.' There were some bears in the woods, l^it they ; mast soon lentially, been I whistling for \y, heard, and • ered from his scarcer now, g in part, no hich is offered lit in. In the abound, and cean they are anklin, in one 3n the remains by them and icer are quierty Tible in great t, creep slowly them much at ley have fairly ;s, and cut off y move more ■rify their prey jpen way, which to know that isily driven over those that are at leisure and voods, \^t they Courtcnays Cow and the Wolves. 127 (lid not trouble us. My sister Margaret and I were the only two of our family who had an adventure with one, and that ended in a fright. It was in the summer-time, and we had strolled out into the woods to amuse ourselves with picking the wild berries, and gathering flowers. I had climbed to the top of the upturned root of a tree, the earth on which was thick with fruit, and my sister was at a short dis- tance behind. Having just got up, I chanced to turn round and look down, when, lo ! there stood a hear busy at the raspberries, which he seemed to like as much as we did. You may be certain that the first sight of it was enough. I sprang down in an instant, and, shouting to my sister that there was a bear behind the tree, we, both, made off homewards with a speed which astonished even ourselves. The poor biaite never offered to disturb us, though he might have made a meal of either of us had he chosen, for I don't think we could have run had we seen him really after us. I had forgotten a story about the wolves which happened a year or two after our first settling. John Courtenay had a cow which fell sick, and was lying in the field, after night, in the winter-time, very likely without any one missing it, or, if they missed it, without their knowing where to find it in the dark. The wolves, however, did not overlook it, for, next morning, poor Cowslip was found killed by them, and its carcass having been left, the family not liking to use 128 A Fright in the Woods by Night. it under the circumstances, they held high carnival over it, nii^ht after night, till the bones were p.ckcd clean This happened quite close to the house. But if there were not many bears and wolves to be snn, ^ve were not the less afraid they wov, d 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 bcn,g half frightened in this way one summer evenmg when there chanced to be no moon, and we had to walk home, through the great gloomy forest, when U was pitch dark. Befc-e starting, we were furnished with a number of long slips of the bark of the hickory- tree, which is very infiammable, and, havmg each lighted ooe, we sallied out on our journey. I shall > never forget the wild look of everything m th flickering light, the circle of darkness closn^g .n round us at a very short distance. B«t on we went, along the winding path, hither and thither among the trees. Suddenly an unearthly sound broke from 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 i„.possible 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 hsten. Agam clme the 'hoo. hoo. hoo;' and I assure you U sounded very loud i'n the still forest. But, though terrible to me, 1 noticed that, when distmctly caught. ' Night. I high carnival ;s were picked he house, and wolves to .id they wonld ce, we should )ods after dark, ^self being half • evening when we had to walk ist, when it was ; furnished with of the hickory- id, having each lourney. I shall ■erything in th :ness closing ui Bat on we went, 1 thither, among ound broke from as repeated again d some bear and where, it seemed ow could we run th, with lights to to listen. Again I assure you it rest. But, though 1 distinctly caught, Tl' The River Freezes. 129 it ceased to alarm my comrade, 'It's only a great owl up in the tree there— what's the use of being frightened ? ' he broke out ; yet he had been as much so as myself, the moment before. However, we now made up for our panic by a hearty laugh, and went on in quietness to the house. Towards the end of December the river froze. This was, in great part, caused by large blocks of ice floating down from Lake Superior, and getting caught on the banks, as they went past, by the ice already formed there. For one to touch another, was to make them adhere for the rest of the winter, and, thus, in a very short time after it hau begun, the whole surface was as solid as a stone. We Iiad now to cut a hole every morning with the axe, through the ice, to let the cattle drink, and to get water for the house, and cold work it was. The cattle came down themselves, but when, a year or two afterwards, we got horses they had to be led twice a day. It was very often my task to take them. Riding was out of the question, from the steepness of the bank, and the way in which their feet balled with the snow, so I used to sally out for them in a thick great-coat, with the ears of my cap carefully tied down, to prevent frostbites; a thick worsted cravat round my neck, and thick mitts on my hands. The floor of the stable was, invariably, a sheet of ice, and over this I had to get out the two horses, letting the one out o\er the icy slope fiX the \^* ' 130 Our Winter Fires, door, and then holding the halter till the second one had slid past me, when, having closed the door, with hands like the snow, from having had to loosen the halters, I. went down with them. -WTien 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 left their nostrils. Of course they were in no hurry, and would put their ails to the wind and drink a minute, and then lift up their heads and look round them at their leisure, as if it were June. By the time they were done, their mouths and chins were often coated with ice, long icicles hanging from the 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 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 much colder than any that are common in England, and as to the coldest, what shall I say they were like? The sky was i:s bright and clear as can be imagined, the snow crackled under foot, and the wind, when there was any, cut the skin like a razor. Indoors, the fire in the kitchen was enough to heat a large kail in a more temperate cUmate. It was never Fires, ter till the second one T closed the door, with ving had to loosen the ;hem. "S\'hen the wind ere white in a step or n on their chests and e smoke as it left their ere in no hurry, and he wind and drink a r heads and look round it were June. By the mouths and chins were icicles hanging from the vas I when at last I had I had knocked out the loes, to let them stand the time, else we could rhere would be two or ind then it would come more: but the mildest, (V, in January, were very are common in England, lat shall I say they were ght and clear as can be led under foot, and the cut the skin like a razor, chen was enough to heat a ate cUmate. It was never Cold, cold, cold ! joj allowed to go out, the last thing at night being to 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 cu" of a tree, about four feet long, and of various thick- nesses. The two dog-irons having been 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 cartload blazing at a time. In fact, the only measure of the quantity was the size of the huge chimney, for the wood cost nothing 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,' m the bitter cold of the bed-rooms, with the windows thick with frost, and the water frozen solid at your side. If you touched a tumbler of water with your tooth- brush it would often freeze in . moment, and the M-ater 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 as they rolled down. The towels were regularly frozen like a board, If they had been at all damp. Water, brought in over- night in buckets, and put as close to the fire as I3» Cold, cold, cold! possible, had to be broken with an axe in the uioming. 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 tb'rn, and my brothers' whiskers were always white w irozen 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 beforehand. One of the coldest nights I remember happened 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 meeting 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 light. The cold, in fact, was so intense.that nobody would venture out. When I got in, I found ii the i Homing. river, till we ardness, and :e on the way ile they were clashes froze on tb'"™, and i \\ I'rozen rytbing of the cr, and, when iff and put in ) in the house. )urs taken out d beforehand, lappened once p at the house i gone with a ;h and Foreign lad appointed* se, with three lyhigh. There which opened ried up to near J a chimney at ted of seven or as magnificent, like sparkling so intense. that got in, I found Co/d, cold, cold ! ^11 the congregation huddled round the stove, which one of them, seated in front of it, was assiduously stuffing 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 fire in^de of it, and the pipe, for more than a yard up, was the same j but our backs were wretchedly cold, notwithstanding, 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's desk at the fai end I know not. He had only one arm, indeed, 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 ! 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 own 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.' One winter I had a dreadful journey of about two ,--«**'' 1 34 A Winter's Journey. hundred miles. We started m the stage, wlach was a^ oper. rough waggon, at seven o'clock at n.ght. h roadfnot as yet permitting sle.ghs. It was m the first week of January. I had on two g^eat-co^^s but there were no buffalo robes to lay over the knee hofgh the stage should have provided them Al hat dreadful dark night I had to sit there, wh.le the Les stumbled on at a wal^nd f-aggon bum d on the frozen clod, most dreadfully. T^e second day's ride was much better, that part of the road big smoother; but the next day and n.ght-what shall 1 say of them? I began in a covered slagh, some time in the forenoon, the distance bang sev^ty niiles. There was another person m U besides my- self. Off wy roll, as the trees and shadows played pen desert impresses its sublimity that is loneliness, the vast, s sweep of the hori- r no life or motion, ling all alike But Squaring Timber, »43 (jucstion if the siglit of an American forest be not equally sublime. The veil cast by the trees over the landscape they adorn ; the dim wonder what may live beneath them, what waters flow, what lakes sparkle ; the consciousness that you look on nature in her jwn unprofaned retreats; that before a white man ha^ seen these shores the summer had already waked thij 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 i?, 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 _J 144 Rafts. keep up the highest spi' ts and the most vigorous health. To fell and squaie the trees is only part of their labour; they must also drag them over the snow 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 the rough places, where the channel is broken into rapids. As they go down, poling or sailing, or shooting the slides, their course is enlivened by the songs and shouts of the crew, and very exciting it is to see and hear them. Once in the broad, smooth water, several smaller rafts are often joined together, and everything carefully pr'jpar- ed for finally setting out for the lower ports. Even from their starting, they are often rigged out with short masts and sails, and houses are built on them, in which the crew take up their abode during the voyage. When they are larger, quite a number of sails are raised, so that they form , very striking ob- jects, when slowly gliding down the river, a rude steering-apparatus behind guiding the vast con- struction.* * On the upper lakes, the crew often take their wives and children, with their poultry, &c., on the rafts with them. 1 and the most vigorous the trees is only part of drag them over the nd join them into rafts 'o form these, a large sely, side by side, and supple rods tied round d further secured by on them ; and they are the St Lawrence, which 5sing, by means of con. the rough places, where )ids. As they go down, the slides, their course is shouts of the crew, and d hear them. Once in sveral smaller rafts are srything carefully pr'jpar- the lower ports. Even often rigged out with )uses are built on them, their abode during the ger, quite a number of form , very striking ob- down the river, a rude juiding the vast con- V often take their wives and in the rafts with them. Camping out. ^\S 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 that he liked nothing better than to go oflF to the depths of the wilderness in the fall, and * camp out ' amidst the snows, night after night, till the spring thaws and the growth of the leaves forced an inter- mission of the work of his profession. An adventure that happened to a party who had, on one occasion, to travel some distance along a river-bed, in winter, is only a sample of what is continually met with beyond the settled parts of the country. There were seven or eight of them in all, including two half- breeds, whom they had employed, partly as guides, and partly to draw their slight luggage on hand- sleighs over the ice. The whole party had to wear snow-shoes to keep them from sinking into the soft snow, which had drifted, in many places, to a great depth ; and this itself, except to experienced hands, is at once very exhausting and painful. The snow- shoe is simply a large cval frame of light wood, crossed with a netting, on vhich the foot rests, and to which it is strapped, thi extent of surface thus presented enabling the wearer to pass safely over drifts, in which, otherwise, he would at once sink. Starting at the first break of the dawn, they plodded on as well as they could, the ankles and knees of some of them getting more and more painful at every step with the weight of the great snow-shoes underneath. 10 ,•■;;-.. , I ji*.-' 146 Camping out. It was no use attempting to pick their steps in such a depth of snow, so that they had to take iheir chance of getting on some unsafe part of the ice at any 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 how.ed .ndl 'through the trees on eacl.s.de,wlndn^ drift in thick clouds in every direction. Still th y 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 e-ampmen as they could, for the night, where they were Ti^n n aside, therefore, into the forest, where a dark stretch of pineWs promised protection, they P/o'^^^^ed to get ready their resting-place. With the help o the. axes, a maple was soon felled, and large pieces o bark from the fallen trees around, formed shovels by ^vhich a square spot of ground was cleared of the Lw A L was the next great subject of mterest, 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, aiid then the bark itself, a match sufficmg to set the pile in a blaze, and the whole forest offering fuel. Pmng 10. on log into a grand heap, the trees around were so^n lighted up witl> a glow that shone far and near. • To protect themselves from the snow, which was r steps in such ake their chance the ice at any arker and more a snow-storm so ne another at a which was very es, and howled ide, whirUng the ;tion. Still they loody silence, till, ley must give up 1 encampment as y were. Turning :re a dark stretch hey proceeded to the help of their rge pieces of bark, ■med shovels, by as cleared of the subject of interest, ing some of the , powder, and lay- jf birch-bark, and ing to set the pile ffering fuel. Piling trees around were shone far and near. snow, which was A Public Meeting. 147 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 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 dunng winter; nor are the comforts of some of the 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 next tOTOship, 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 sleigh, drawn by a couple of rough horses, whose harness, tied here and there with rope, and unprovided with anything to keep the traces from failing 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 148 A Public Meeting. contrived the best plan for avoiding unpleasant results. They never walked down any descent, but, on conring to any gully, dashed down the icy slope at a hard 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 threatenmg 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 ninners 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 pleasant results. , but, on conring ;lope at a hard (vhich formed a )osite ascent, till weight of the ve- ;o urge' them up n of threatenmg ; his craft; and ; were again at a sather, however, in deep places gh which it was At others, the m the iron-shod unpleasant music I gravel. As to ough of both, as en snow, or some t to our journey's iged by numbers it was a political loliticians. Such ely to be seen no- id a suit made of wer on a bright- he compartments r down his back. :d round the waist A Public Meeting. 149 with a red sash, buflfalo coats, fur caps of all sizes and shapes, mocassins, or coarse Wellingtons, with the trowser-legs tucked into them, mitts, gloves, and 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 exhilarating 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 I^een 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- •k I' i";© My Toe Frozen. ard, who had already mined himself and his family, and was able to get drunk only at the expense of others. 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 uninteresting 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 c?ilder than usual, my feet bemg 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 ofif 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 /or at least an hour before it came to its right hue. But what shall I say of the ind his family, the expense of the speeches, balcony before ry uninteresting od patiently in was glad when igh, and turned f my great toes Iter. We were ^pairing a fence mow was pretty ; hours, and did ing every day as moving actively f stamping and ilation, and had \ coming home, Lt myself better, my left foot was t it was frozen. it dangerous in to get as far as jne brought me I kept rubbing 1 hour before it lall I say of the Hospitality, iti 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, 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 unin- habited 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, dnn the beautiful open-handedness of backwoods hospitality. No thought of any question or doubt rose m the matter-to come to the door was to rest Va. 1^1 Hospitality. 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. 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 difficulties 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 road-side 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 the house. I St Clair, from terval between of the snow, veiling by any me could have e got, had it ; doing nothing sleighing pos- oprietor ' might determined to vas impossible ; ; of frozen mud at each side, by li only made my md covering up lad been washed •face was dotted where the water ;rs of mud which k the whole way. ch daylight was legs. No man k. In the early oad-side and had as another, seven h it before night, irney's end. But Hospitality. xty I 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 towards it as I best could, I told them how I was benighted, and asked if I could get shelter till morning. 'Come in, sir,' said the honest proprietor, 'an' ye're welcome.' He proved to be a decent shoe- maker ; a young man, with a tidy young woman for his wife; and as I entered, he beckoned me to be seated, 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 bed-time came, I found there was only one bed in the house, and could not • 154 Nearly Lost in the Woods, imagine how they were to do with me ; but this was soon solved by their dragging the feather-bed off, and bringing it out wiiere I was, from the inner room, and spreading it on the floor opposite the fire. Nothing would induce them to keep it to them- selves 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 fellow 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, l had the most awkward mishap that ever befell 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 wi;yside 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 qn, as I fancied, in the direction . that had been pointed out to me. But, still, no road wds, le ; but this was feather-bed off, from the inner )r opposite the keep it to them- i their guest, and 11 as they could, got ready, and them. But not r about money, iving a bed and y welcome.' So ' and bid them f having done a [his second day's iiishap that ever ut lost in them, set. The roads dly get on, and of the wi;yside miles by cutting ated, I was very ;es are al' very to where he told ecome confused ; ;n of any track t I could find it, , in the direction But, still, no road Nearly Lost in the Woods. \t^^ 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. 1 had got into a wide cedar-swamp, the water in which was 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 stnick 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. I 156 CHAPTER IX. Involuntary racing-A backwoo.ls parsonage-Crave, in the wiMenJss - Notions of c.uali.y - Arct.c -"U- - lU ^ u grouse-Indian fisliing in winter- A ma.r.age-Our wmter » jiorlc. |MONG our occasional visitors, we had, ' one year, at one time, no fewer than tlirec ministers, who chanced to be on some Home Missionary Society business in our quarter, and very nice company they were Some of their stories of the adventures that befell 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, where 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 for sleighing, and, yet, to ride down these treacherous descents in a wheeled conveyance was Involuntary Racing. 157 • -Grave* in the winters — Uuffed jge— Our winter'i iitors, \vc had, no fewer than need to be on society business lany they were, iires that befell eatly. One was ;rs Enghshmen ; sh scenes every ivhich tliey had high spirits. At of very rolHng slope and down lappened at the was no pleasant re was too little ide down these conveyance was impossible. At the top of an extra long one they had therefore determined, not only to get out, but to take the horses out, one of them leading them down, while the other two brc^ight 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 ar- ranged, at a given signal the first movement over the edge of the slope was made, and all went well enough for a few steps, liut 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 1 ' 'I can't stop it,' passed and repassed 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 increasing 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 ! ' 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 anxfety. 158 A Backwoods Parsonage. till at last the sufferer managed to find relief when he had been carried a considerable way up the next slope. One of the three wore a* contrivance over his fur cap 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 the 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 Hiad 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 cf 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 wor:-,t ; 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 sucii poor accommodation to a friend, was his point- rsonage. to find relief when ible way up the next :rivance over his fur I have noticed, was , BerHn wool, much nets of the Knights ;h, the only opening ile what you' might his shoulders. He le men in the dress when it was on him, huge ball from his t was, it appeared, gave an account of ickwoods parsonage, lis pillow all night, sides the bed, being cf cheese. He had lOuse, in fact, which, 2d as a store-room, it was in the depth s through chinks of havinf; come on in eep on his coverlet clergymen suffer in led, be terrible. A 'ho could offer only riend, was his point- Notions of Eqtiality. '59 ing to a little mound in the few feet of enclosure be 'ore his door, and saying that his only son, an infant, was buried there. The way in which graves are scattered up and do^-n Canada is, indeed, one of the most afTecting sights, as one passes. Churchyards are, of course, only found where population has gathered to tome extent, and, hence, all who die in the first periods of settlement used to be buried on their own farms. Very often, in riding through old parts of the country, a litde paling in the side of a field tells the story of some lonely grave. The 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 .availed. 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 for the host and his wife, the other hr the servant, and to this she was pointed, wifh d"' exclude the d;>T, m our neighbourhood. When wc .ent 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. 'I'here was some how- ever, and we managed to get oui 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 II 1 If Mil l62 Ruffed Grouse. great vigour and with a loud whirring noise, sweeping to a considerable distance through the woods before it alights. The cock has a 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 shade of the spruce or the pine, and are perfect models oi- stupidity, letting you get every advantage in your efforts to shoot them. I have known one sit, .vithout 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 take your time, and, if necessary, may draw your charge and reload, without your victim moving. He will stand and gape at you during the whole process, even if your dog be barking and tearing a few yards 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. loise, sweeping : woods before war of making :h, when heard strange effect, ating its whole and wheeling jntly begins to ort and quick ore rapid until jound to which which he pays rom a distance, ig in the thick nd are perfect ivery advantage ! known one sit, log was getting that you should ) you may take aw your charge jving. He will le process, even few yards below g a whole covey ind go upwards. :oming on some )me perhaps half where they were, Indian Fishing in Winter, 163 when he came back, as if waiting to be shot. They are delicious eating, and so tender is their skin that you must not think of carrying them by the head, which would be sure to come off with the weight of the body. One day, walking down the 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 home 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 employed in fishing, and partly for protection, partly to keep the fish from being alarmed, had completely covered himself u-ith 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 bail of twine I happened to have with me we became good enough friends, and after a few minutes I left him. i64 A Marriage. There was a marriage on the river the first winter we were there, which in some respects amused us. 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 believe, 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-house, which stood with its gable to the roadsicfe, perhaps eight feet by eighteen, forming two apartments, an addition, which had once been in- tended to be made, so as to join the end next the road at right angles, but remained unfinished, being shut off by a door of thin deal, which, alone, kept the wind out at that comer. We crossed the ice to the American side to have the ceremony performed, after which there was a grand dinner, with true Canadian abund- ance, in her patron's house, in which, up to that time, she had had her home. Their own shanty not being as yet habitable, the young 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, Primitive Furniture. 165 first winter we ised us. The nanners; and and very re- f them should I of poverty as lought of only ras, I believe, bride brought I some stock, Jut money she ihe went to be leen borrowed me was simply :h its gable to hfeen, forming once been in- next the road , being shut off )t the wind out the American d, after which madian abund- p to that time, mty not being ained there till to it. But no. ; whatever was lid of amateurs, if any Canadians deserve that name, whatever they may have to undertake. The chimney had to be re- built of mud, the walls 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 apology for a carpet, and a iew 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 were 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 tlie support of the young housekeepers, though, less tlian a year 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 trowserd, and heavy coarse boots, with a long blue beech rod in i6d Our Winters Pork. fiis hand, shouting to his oxen, it would hardly have 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 aify 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 Ijefore Christmas a great time came on— the high solemnity of the annual pig-killing for the winter. It was bad enough for the poor swine, no doubt, but the human details were, in some resiiects, 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, and hung round, for the sake of the entrails and other offal, till all Was over. Of course we gave them good pieces, but tiiey were hungry enough to Sufferings of the Indians. 167 hardly have was anything however, that in which his )lve him, by situation, in y settled. I with which to d to be done The trifle he aving set out gb, to a town led with little ic came on — ■ tilling for the 3or swine, no ome resijects, ; got a man to age the rest; ; fixed into a )ur admiration jr an illustra- lich the poOT re. A band of oon as we had of the entrails ourse we gave gry enough to have needed the whole, could we have spared it. As 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 from 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 with- out food. IB|a*W»«'*!»V«S-0"3JVV»-rfi i68 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. |E used to have delightful evenings some- times 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 estab- Insect Plagues. itfp flicers' families in — nearly shot for -Fortunate escape evenings some- settlers came to went to their the population e country which and intelligent capital society. — , but he was rregular habits, mted for by the the head which Rodrigo. Then, off, Mr R , i found his way ch money from of the church- i the Episcopal ,0 Church estab- lishment in Canada ; a man, moreover, of much gen- eral information, a good shot, and, what was better, a good Christian. He had always plenty of fresh London newspapers of the stiff Tory class, but acceptable to all alike in such a place as St Clair. His house was at the foot of a steep bank, and* as there were only liimself and Mrs R to occupy it, its size was not so striking as its neatness. A broad verandah 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 bed-rooms, 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 Ministers 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 summer, 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 wonder- fully plentiful throughout Canada, but some parts are worse that others. A sandy soil seemed to breed them, as the mud of the Nile was once thought to breed worms, and Mr R 's bam 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 wonderful extent. So •"'•"'-'^••'-"liiiiiiiiiriiii 1 7© Insect Plagues. 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 ! ' was all the pity you 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 hardly got into the pulpit before he found that u whole swarm of ants had got up his trousers. You may think how his hands went below the bookboard on each side of him, but it wouldn't do. He had to tell the congregation 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 chapel, 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 ^y IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 11.25 IM lis mtf 12.2 •UUki ••^'i^l-^ e ^\4i. n' 0^ -^ L Photographic Sciences Corporation ■y 23 WEST MAIN STXiET WEBSTER, N.Y. M.-iSO (716) 872-4S03 4^ ^^. <«^rv ^9,^ Mt CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques Officers* Fcwnilies in the Bush. 171 above us, Captain W , who had been flag-iieute- nant of a frigate off St Helena while Bonaparte was a captive there, and had managed to preserve a lock of his soft, light-brown hair ; and Mr L , brother 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 number 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 crov-ds of that class burying them- selves in the wood.i 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 tlie floor with two labourers, the man of 1 72 Officer i Families in the Bush. the house and his wife sleeping at the ether end of the room. After breakfast the next morning, in grand style, with cakes, ' apple sauce ' in platefuls, 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 toble, and a 'grand piano ! ' which, Bush. he ether end of xt morning, in :e' in platefuls, cream, cheese, the very worst lid get any con- roads were very le- depth of the en track. They ; I was directed ?here I was told od on a rising 1 the trees hav- round. There before the doors, apeless old log- sss, alone. Mrs ■ of elegant man- he world, having regiment in the e had met Sir of gossip about d and elsewhere. It had once been lany years before. iUed furniture in supplemented by trees, serving for id piano ! ' which, Officers' Families in the Bush. 173 — 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 feet pattering on the loose open boards which formed the floor of some apartments, and was presently in- formed that * the dressing-room ' of the Misses I- was above, and that they would soon be down. Not ar\ 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 bom 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 soon be filled up, and that, in some magical way, the soil, covered though it was with trees, would yield him a living at once plentiful and easily procured. But years had passed on, the money got for his 1. iv 1 74 Oncers' Families in the Bush. 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 L 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 there 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 fact of his being a gentie- man by birth and education made his frequent visits only «o much the more embarassing. 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 should be overheard, they spoke in Italian, which .>i^ -.O^.-t^^i^^M-...^ ? Bush. rnship round him om one step to !epest want, until ' to get food, by r finery into caps joors around, and sell them for flour ;en expected that labourer — he was iied over his task, ring ; and, except ;, the family con- these, however, aged to make an orrible place; but even in the coun- ts to which their or had not as yet lis being a gentle- his frequent visits ng. One day he ayed so long, that of leaving before thing in the house uld not of course me ? Mrs L ;hter, retired to a ind, lest anything in Italian, which An Awkward Mistake. ^1S they never dreamed of the suitor understanding. To his unspeakable amusement, the whole perplexity of the case forthwith proceeded to unfold itself in foreign syllables. 'The nasty fellow, what in the world won't 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 maniage came off notwithstanding, and a handsome couple they made. After a fime 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 mapper; and late that night I got home, a half- sovereign and his expenses making the poor young fellow 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 Scotch- man. Out gets the doctor to help his poor horse by 176 Marriages in the Bush. unbuckling its straps and so on, and, being very short- sighted, he had to get down his face almost on it. Just at this time, Mrs Thompson chanced to come to the door, and there was Uiis 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 iMiss 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. When 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 frightful morning, when the roads were ish. aeing very short- :e almost on it. need to come to 1 in the distance, tly made up her bring your gun ; But they didn't nan found out in 3ut some of the not far from it. )t every one who 1 I have spoken, or matches were lays. There was ain in the army, ose, of any other whom her father, ly have taken to married another, by taking, as her th three or four -, who had come 3 Captain L ; n the appearance 1 the great trees rly man, and his ;mber passing on n the roads were Scarcity of Candles. ^11 at the worst, and finding him on the top of a prostrate log, trying to cut off enough for his fire. His daughter finally 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 serv- ants in England ; partly, I suppose, because there 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 ap- pearance no better than that of any labourer round. 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 con- versation 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. Mean- while, 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 often a great scarcity of candles. One was 12 178 Air-holes in the Ice. lighted at supper, but it was put out immediately 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 to 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 m ad- dition 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 m it with the horses as well, breaking through an air- hole in the ice, that is, a spot at which the air im- prisoned below the ice had found its escape, leaving the surf-ace 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 comparative ease. ^ e. nmediately after ight of the fire, by a supply of sometimes had k we were more \ saucer, with a our plans in ad- ) see our way to ;ident down the and the folks in through an air- hich the air im- s escape, leaving ;n. How they und the hole was ty had clambered le rest, who had 1 were saved ; but 3 me as hazardous round their necks ,this means they jh that they were 179 CHAPTER XI. 'Now Spring returns '—Sugar-making-Bush psalmody -Bush preaching— Worship under difficulties — A clerical Mrs Partington— Biology— A ghost— 'It slips good '—Squatters. |Y the middle of March the sun had begun, in the very open places, to show some power, especially in the little spots shelter- ed 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 reappear, 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 beauti- ful plumage, blue set off with white and black, flitted from the top of one of the lower trees to another, mtim i8o Sugar-making. chattering incessantly. Everything had been desolate around us for long, and nt)w to see such signs of returning warmth and verdure was unspeakably de- lightful. 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 fronv 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 j and very little else is known in many parts of the backwoods for household pur- poses. The best days for sugai-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 soft wood, by cutting a log mto lengths of perhaps two feet, then splitting each in two, and hollowing the flat side so that it would ■iMMiliMfaiaiMM ■MWMMMidiWMi id been desolate e such signs of unspeakably de- ind while yet the the woods, the ommenccd. It long time that om a great forest been always in cept, indeed, the . Napoleon tried sugar, instead of gar from any of quantity is made, from the maple, ist amount being 5 as a sweetmeat, de else is known )r household pur- r-making are the sap running then id to do with our 3 the maples pre- lee that each tree 1 we made out of cutting a log into I splitting each in so that it would Suj^ar-mal'in^. !8l mmiitmtmiiA'- Iiold about a bucketful of sap. We next took narrow pieces of wood about a foot long, and made spouts of them with a gouge, after wliicl) we made a cut in each tree with the axe, tlirec 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, wliich was carried as often as they were nearly full to another, of enormous dimensions, close to the fire. These colossal ^rou hs are simply huge trunks of trees hollowed out for the purpose ; ours woulu have held fifi . arrels. 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 m. One of the kettles 1-2 Sugar-making. was chosen for 'sugaring off,' and had especially assiduous watching. Not a moment's rest could its unfortunate contents get from the incessant boiling we kept up ; fresh sap being' added as often as 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 magic 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 » md had especially ent's rest could its e incessant boiling ded as often as it :n its rage, the sap desperate efforts to vatch for this also, ny intention of the 3f the ketde with a s of which it would n inside some magic 3 we at every part of ;s showed abundant ibours, in the rents hat we were all like, may be more easily smudged faces, and 3 all laugh at one he incessant boiling, r amusement in the idled, if we leaned ist bound ; and the ^-handles, troughs — eemed to part from fortunate in having , as they would, of if the fray, and have all was over. The Sugar-making. 183 'clearing off' was managed by pouring in beaten eggs when the sap was beginning to get thick. This served to bring all the impurities at once to the top, so that we could readily skim theip 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 barrd, and stirred while cooling, which effectually answered the purpose. Small holes bored in the bottoni 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 until 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- 1 84 Sugar-making. thing, and one taste of the sap is very much to them what they say the taste of blood is to a tiger, in 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 succeed 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 annoy- ance 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 trifling task, over vet snow, and rough ground, thick with every ob- struction. 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 tlie Bush Psalmody. 185 mudi to them to a tiger, in I they come, loved nectar ; the buckets ;es succeed in ften seriously, nee acting on ing out their nother annoy- to cut out the ible to take a tree, to collect nee, having to ;s,' often from tling task, over v'ith every ob- respect, having ig was as light itivity with us, . many of our ;s to come to a ry nice, though ime as some of which a single e gave not less [led to do them d stronger tlie trees the better the sap, and the more abundant — a peculiarity which it would be 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, hollowed out and pointed for sticking into the trees, having often been found in some dis- tricts. 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 Pr^byterian 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 themselves. 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 astounding; 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 1 86 Worship under Difficulties. a swallow to recover himself, or, perhaps, spit on the floor, and begin again where he left off, in total disre- gard 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 legible, so that, notwith- standing the excessive cold, the minister had to stand outside the door through the whole service. About the middle of the sermon a brief iiuerruption 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 full 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 be- low, the danger of the whole structure catching fire was great; but the congregation were equal to the emergency. A number of men were out in a moment, to return, the next, with great armfuls of snow, which they heaped on the burning mound in such profusion •MaMMMMB "^ Ities. ips, spit on the ', in total disre- If a line ahead. :peats ' of each 2 articulation of r meaning from windows were )ple, the place that, notwith- ;r had to stand ervice. About .erruption took ve, which stood jf the common raised edge on ladian churches his contrivance ng on, when, in li lifted up, and 1 wood, in one ; floor chanced d planks, with enters' shavings early visible he- re catching fire e equal to the ut in a moment, of snow, which such profusion Worship under Difficulties. 1 87 that every spark of fire was extinguished 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 whittlings made on the spot, a fresh 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 sounds, 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- ntent, instead of the ordinary service, a black bottle and two tiimblers were brought out, with all due solemnity, as substitutes. We had a sample of the strength of female intellect, one winter, in an old woman, who visited the next i 1 88 A Clo'ical Mrs Partington. 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 Scrip- ture by heart, nnd having a tongue more than usually voluble, .-nd 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 me exceed- ingly 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 making the .parties become, as he averred, completely subject, rion. Biology. 189 and drew the the neighbour- se, was utterly jooks of Scrip- ae more than nothing could ten the crowd eft arm as a n\\\ Daniel, at nmation of all he figuratively of her similes, sed me exceed- iited to please ere's no more :'s blood in a naginary sinner, rdened sinners, d black, tobaky 3urn 'em — then luminaries are, le States, where ". xVnother of "or the purpoie ■hich he meant ; by looking at ried with him; ne making the pletely subject, even in their thoughts, to his will. He would tell one he was a pig, and all manner of swinish sounds and actions followed. Another was assured he could not rise from his seat, and forthwith 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 pro- fession was not the one he follered ; 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 left 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 190 A Ghost. of an apparition he had seen the night before in pass- ing the graveyard at the Httle Cathohc 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 out-topping 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 1 how I sweated as I ran home ! I never stopped till I got over my fence and safe in bed.' The poor rabbit that had caused the panic would, no 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 was 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 frj'ing-pan in one hand and a spoon in the other, drinking down mouthful after mouthful of the melted fat left after fry- ing pork, and, on my silently looking at him, was met by a delighted smile and a smack of his lips, accom- panied by a rapturous assurance of, ' Ah ! it slips good.' Fat, however, is only another name for carbon, or, it may be said, charcoal, and carbon is needed in large quantities to maintain an adequate amount of ' // slips good! 191 before in pass- c chapel on the > a little plot of fooden pickets, nd high among :k crosses here know Michel k^ays had a spite It about twelve ird, didn't I see the shape of a home ! I never d safe in bed.' panic would, no it have learned at kind of food — at least, it was :r to Le Blanc's Louis, a boy of F a frj'ing-pan in , drinking down fat left after fry- at him, was met his lips, accom- f, 'Ah! it slips name for carbon, on is needed in i^uate 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 ' Pedestrian 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 rehsh 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 qumiity of butcher's meat eaten by every one during winter in Canada is astonishing. Even the bush people, who when living in England hardly ever saw it, eat it vora- ciously three times a-day, with a liberal allowance of grease each time. What oceans of mutton-oil I have seen floating round chops, in some of their houses ! H9W often have I declined the offer of three or four table-spoonfuls of pork-oil, as ' gravy ' or ' sauce ' to the perk itself! Yet it 'slips good,' apparently, with the country population generally. The quantity of butter these good folks consume is no less Uberal. On the tgn, Sqnaiiers. 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 little money with whicli 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 having 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 un- cleared 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 govern- ment ; but the squatters were not yet extinct, though they might at one time have had their choice of the richest soil at something like fourpence an acre. A Squatters. think of putting pound, at which own knife. But y have it, to help ne cold and hard vho have no land little money with ;rely. )g the river here ttled on spots of t them, or having ntent to use them id to leave their ard. They are alue of their im- live entirely rent disadvantageous. ;ed, there was no ild hardly be any- as all alike an un- lO inducement to ley possessed the ies in our neigh- e same farm for illy bought their landed bygovern- et extinct, though leir choice of the ence an acre. A 193 friend of mine told me that within 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 himself 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 the upper part of it was used as his bam. Here, all alone, poor Papineau had lived — no one I ever met could tell how long. There was no house in sight ; no one ever seemed to go near him, nor did he ever visit any neighbour. He was his own cook, house- keeper, 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 him mowing his patch of hay for his cow, or weeding his plot of tobacco, for he grew what he required for his own use of this as of other things ; and he was ahvays 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 inhabitant of any large community ! Yet he must surely have beerf contented, otherwise he would have left it and gone where he could have found some society. 13 194 ! . CHAPTER XII. Bush mnRistrntcs-In.lian f..rest Bui.les-Scnscs quicUenc.l by neccssily-MrcaluuK »P "f H"-" ice-Depth of the frost-A grave- in winter— A ball-A holiday coat. |r,N those days our local dignitaries were as primitive as the country itself. On the river, indeed, the magistrates were men of education, but in the bush the majority possessed no ciuaiifications for acting the part of jus- tices. One of them had the misfortune one winter to have a favourite dog killed by some mischievous person, and feeling excessively indignant at the loss, boldly announced that he was prepared to pay a reward to any party who would give such information respecting the offender as should lead to his convic- tion The wording and spelling of this proclamation weie alike remarkable. It ran thus; 'Whereas sum nutrishus vilain or vilains has killed my dog Seesur, I er2by ofer a reward of five dolars to any one that will mak none the ofender or ofenders.' He never got any benefit from his efforts, but the document, in his own handwriting, hung for a long time on the wall of ;nscs quickened tiy )f the frost —A grave gnitaries were as yr itself. On the stratcs were men bush the majority T the part of jus- ime one winter to ome mischievous ;nant at the loss, epared to pay a such information ad to his convic- this proclamation s: 'Whereas sum my dog Seesur, I I any one that will I.' He never got e document, in his ime on the wall of Indian Forest Guides. 195 the next tavern, wliere all could sec it, and not a few laugh at its peculiarities. I was much struck by an instance, which a lony journey, about this time, through the woods, gave, ol 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 trt-enty miles from a back township to which the road.s had not yet been opened, and not liking to take the circuit necessary if I desired to find others, I thought myself fortunate in mcefi. ' with an Indian, who for a small reward offered to f, • mc 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 imderstood his reasoning, 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 wnich the other sides from any outward sign, They must have something more to guide them, I think, though what it is I cannot conceive. The senses become wonderfully acute when called into extra- ordinary service. I have read of prisoners in dark dungeons who got at last to be able to see the spiders ■■ 196 Senses quickened by Necessity. moving about in their webs in the comers of their cells ; and blind people often attain such a .vonderful delicacy of touch as to be able to detect things by differences so slight as to be imperceptible by others. The facility with which they read the books prepared for them with raised letters, 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 fire of a ' camp,' as they call the place where a party rests for the night, when a European can detect nothing. There may, therefore, 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 animp.ls 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 receives the impression of foot- steps, and retains it for a length of time. The moss on the fallen 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 mmm Necessity. the comers of their tain such a vonderful ; to detect things by iperceptiblc by others. :1 the books prepared r simply passing their 11 known. The sailor ■ distant land, or the over the desert, when An Indian can smell ;all the place where a L European can detect :, be something which J those who pass their 1 others are unable to 1 great advantage from g the footsteps of men round and among dry e enabled to acquire ests in North America derneath to offer easy le soil is little more on ten wood and decaying the impression of foot- th of time. The moss great help in tracking :ast through the forest; ler can well make their ; off portions here and Breaking up of the Ice. 197 there. Nor is the mere fact of the passage in a par- ticular direction all that an Indian can detect from the traces on the soil or vegetation. They reason acutely from tilings wliich others would overlook, and some- times surprise one as much by the minute and yet correct conclusions they draw respecting what they liave not seen, as the Arab did the Cadi of Bagdad when he described a camel and its load which had passed, and whose track he had seen; maintaining that tlie camel was lame of a foot— because he had noticed a difference 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, tliat 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 possible, 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 ic^ in th. 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- i 198 Breaking up of the Ice. pearance every moment nearer. It had become a wearisome sight when looked at day after day for months, and we all longed for tlie open river once more. At last, about the 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 after its long imprison- ment, the richness of its colour contrasting strikingly with the whiteness of the ice which flo ited 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 I-akes, jammed together one piece on another, in immense heaps, in every variety of confusion, the upturned edges fringed with prismatic colours. I found 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 litde power left in it to resist any outward force. The final rupture, though appar- ently so sudden, had been in fact steadily progressing, > ce. had become a y after day for )pen river once ■ the month, on , the whole sur- n to pieces. A ng through the the water as to ;ened sheet that iful sight to look [ice more in tlie ts long imprison- rasting strikingly loited in snowy only the broken , immense quan- lie Upper I-akes, her, in immense n, the upturned i. I found that laking had been I suspected, from J whole of what ;n so afifected by ooked at it, long ;lves through it, eft in it to resist re, though appar- ;adily progressing, Depth of the Frost. 199 until, at last, the night's storm had been sufficient to sweep away in an hour what had previously stood 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 apparendy sudden results, are the law in all things. The Reformation, though accomplished as if at a blow, had been silently made possible througii long previous generations ; and when the idolaters in Tahiti tlirew away their hideous gods, the salutary change was only effected by the long-continued labours of fliithful missionaries for many years before — labours, which, to many, must, at the time, have seemed fruit- less 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 ha\ing 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 I 200 A Grave in Winter. it had to be broken up with pickaxes. Even in that earlier part of the winter the frost was ner'ily two feet deep, and it was a touching thing to see the frozen lumps of earth which had to be thrown down on the coflin. 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 to 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 alx)ut 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 1 used to Even in that vas ner-ily two > see the fro/cn m down on the ive smooth, or h is so famiUar 1 hke our own could only be ihould come to mgely enough, ame household 'O graves were lied just as she her daughter-in- iventy miles off, ness had herself lired, leaving it laid beside her It was now the lade everything St, and thus the >y. Laying the g it with Straw, carry a young lusband set out fear of delaying was frozen stiff, :ound for weeks Vhen 1 used to A >LKNK IN Ul K MKSl \V1MI,K i\it;i- 2.11. /',/V'' -""• Depth of the Frost. 201 pass aftenvards in summer time, the two graves, which were the first in the burial-ground, wore a more cheerful aspect than they had done at first j 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 frozen 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 j 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. Round 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 1 202 A Ball. the coasts of Siberia, and on some spots of the American sliorc, the earth, brought down by rivers and strewn by their floods over the hills of ice, is bright with vegetation for a sliort 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 A Holiday Coai. 203 spots of the )wn by rivers liills of ice, is of each year cold natures hardness, an tue spread, as ?er the face of ^en across the ;n cleared for :ing fixed at a pper. It was id no money rd for barter; of eggs, or so ivalent to the 3 not present )f these mixed ;re in a great lem coming as J went past in e river as if it !, of course, in tood it ; some Iculously light t year, in the 3ok the nicer, fast, and what was in its full glory on the river had been well nigh forgotten where it took its rise, like the famous Steen- kirk stock, of which Adtlison says that it took eleven years to travel from London to Newcastle. The taste shown was often very praiseworthy, but some- times, 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 off 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 pronounced to be the very thing she wanted, and took home in triumph ! 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 to 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 often used to iMMMteMMi^MlUtf''-' 1 1' 204 lF//y Ice pats. think wliat a nicrcy it was tliat, while water gets heavier as it yrows cold, until it comes to the freexing- point, it becomes lighter the moment it begins to freeze, and thus rises to the surface, to form ice there, instead of at the boUom. If it continued to get lieavier after it froze, or if it continued as heavy after, as it was immeiliaCely before, the rivers and lakes would sjieedily become solid masses of ice, which could by no i)ossiIjility be melted. The arrangement by which this is avoided, is a remarkable illustration of the* Divine wisdom, and a striking proof of tlie contrivance and design which is in all God's works. ii M5 e water gets llic freezing- it begins to brni ice there, iniieil to get IS heavy after, .T!) and lakes of ice, which ; arrangement )le illustration proof of tile od's works. CHAPTER XIII. Willi Iccks— Spring birds— Wilson's poem on the bluchird — Downy woodi)eckLTs~rassen(;er piguons— Their mimhers — Koostint' placca-The frogs— Bull frogs— Tree frogs— Flying scjuirrels. |Y the first of May the fields were beginning to put on their spring beauty. But in Canada, where vegetation, once fairly started, makes a wonderfully rapid pro- gress, it is not like that of England, where .spring comes down, as the poet tells us — ' Veiled in a shower ol shadowing roses,' and a long interval occurs between the first indications 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 from 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 disagreeable taste. In fact, both were abominable for weeks together, until other attractions in vaccine diet had superseded those of the leeks. It was delightful to look at the runnels of crystal water wimpling down the furrows as the sua -,■;•; ■;4,i Mw*, , 206 Spring Birds. grew strong ; the tender grass beneath, and at each side, showing through the quivering flow hke u frame of emerald. The great buds of the chestnuts and those of other trees 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 reappeared in long flights high overhead, 011 their way to their breeding-places in the far north ; ihe reed-sparrows in their rich black plumage, with scarlet shoulders fading off to yellow ; die robin, resembling his English namesake only in the name, as he belongs to the family of thrushes in Canada j the squixrdS in their beautiful coats, with their great bushy taib 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 flovvery 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 the burn 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 visit- ing the bo.K in the garden, where he had kept house VWit,, :ncath, and at each ng flow like .'•. frame f the chestnuts and ;er, and shone in the lich they had been small green snakes, ir long torpid it) ; the ts high overhead, on n the far north ; ihe liimage, with scarlet le robin, resembling name, as he belongs inada ; the squircfdS ir great bushy tails irection through the iming their presence ipare to the whirr of jeginning to send up f standing pool — all nd vegetable world he flowery summer J' e herald of spring, while the snow was ; the burn and the I orchard, about the insisted. About the might be seen visit- he had kept house Wilsons Poem on the Blue-bird. 207 the year before, or, in places where the orchards 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 wliich chiefly he feeds, and, by killing whole myriads of which, he proves himself one of the best friends of the farmer. Thero 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 so 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 geese to the lakes are a-steeering ; When first the lone butterfly flits on the wing. When glow the retl maples, so fresh and so pleasing, Oh, then comes the blue-bird, the herald of spring, And hails with his warblings the charms of the season. , ' Then loud-piping frogs make the marshes to ring, Then warm glows the sunshine, and fine i, the weather ; The blue woodland flowers just beginning to spring. And spice-wood and sassafras budding together. O then to your gardens, ye house- wives, repair, Your walks border up, sow and plant at vour leisure. The blue-bird will chant from his box such an air That all your hard toils will seem truly a pleasure. ' He flits through the orchard, he visits eac*- tree, The red-flowering peach, and the apple's sweet blossoms : lie snaps up destroyers wherever they be, And seizes the caitifls that lurk in their bosoms ; -am .■>"ililfilfti1^'ih''.'M'li/ ili,f.n^V;i^iS0t. . 208 Downy Woodpeckers, He drags the vile grub from the com he devours, The worms from their beds, where they riot and welter j His song 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 ; i The slow ling' ring schoolboys forget they'll be chid, While gazing intent as he warbles before 'em In mantle of sky-blue, and bosom so red, i That each little wanderer seems to adore hira.' 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 orchard, 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 ajid 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 Bl ■ ito . ivy_^^ ii> ackers. he devours, they riot and welter ; urs, , a shelter. leans in his train, ounting to cheer him ; mple strain, nd to hear him ; ;hey'll be chid, )efore 'em red, ; adore him.' s activity in destroy- my old friends, the John Courtenay's ;everal of these birds t the place the whole y few Canadian birds ;d me, one day, the d ' Downy,' in an old t in the body of the sn marked out by a or eight inches deep i ten or twelve more nly large enough to le bottom apparently y. As far as I could could have made it, ; same in every part, as cunning as they Downy Woodpeckers. 209 are clever at this art, the two old ones regularly carry- ing 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 Avhite eggs, laid on the smooth bottom of their curious abode, mark the number of each year's family, the female bird sitting closely on them while llicy 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 rat in life for themselves. I had often wondered at tlii appearance of the bark in nvany of the apple and ] ^ar-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 punctures, numerous though they be. I have always remarked that the trees which were perforated most seemed most thriving, no doubt because the birds had destroyed the ••: v.'.cts which otherwise would have injured then, "he u. umn and winter is tlie great time for tbri- opor3ti:>iiS, and it is precisely the time 14 210 Downy Woodpeckers. when the preservation of the fruit, in the coming summer, can be best secured. Curious as it may seem that such a riddHng of the bark can be bene- ficial to the tree, it evidently 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 gnibhunt, and sometimes eight or ten of them might be covered by a penny. Farmers, how- ever, rarely philosophize, and no wonder that in t>>is case they regard as prejudicial what is really a b 'fit But, on the othc. hand, they are correct eui.. . .V ' -c the habits of some of the woodpeckers, for g. - n tl-.ieves 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 piok 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, therefore, that, with such plundering propensities, they should lose their lives pretty often. The flocks of pigeons that come in the ear r spring are wonderful. They fly together in bodies of many thousands, perching, as close as they can settle, ( rs. Passenger Pigeons. Ill t, in the coming irious as it may ark can be bene- From the ground e is often hardly 3t bear the mark eight or ten of r. Farmers, how- wonder that in I what is really a they are correct the woodpeckers, ded ones, at some The little rascals ipens, completely In fact, they have e sure to piok the and have no less plums, and pears ; dish with them, lese little plagues ; the eggs in the issed by in their der, therefore, that, they should lose in the ear r spring her in bodies of : as they can settle, on the trees when they alight, or covering the ground over large spaces when feeding. The first tidings of their approach is the signal for every available gun to be brouglU into requisition, at once to procure a sup- ply 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 per- haps fear, such usually timid birds have when col- lected 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 bar- rels right and left into it, until nothing remained 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 acquainted in such amazing numbers as are said by Wilson and Audubon to visit the Western United States. The latter naturalist left iiis house at Henderson, on the Ohio, in the autumn of 1813, on his way to Louisville, and on passing the Barrens, a few miles beyond Hardensburgh, observed the pigeons flying from north-east to south-west in such numbers, that he thought he would try to calcu- late 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 i^i^k. 212 Their Numbers. ' short time had to give up the attempt, as he had already put down a hundred and sixty-three in twenty- one minutej, and they still poured on in countless multitudes. 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 an inclina- tion to drowsiness. When he reached Louisville, a distance of fifty-five miles, the pigeons were still pass- ing in unabated numbeis, and continued to do so for three days in succession. He calculated that, if two pigeons were allowed for each square yard, the num- ber in a single flock— and that not a large one, ex- .ding 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 tliirty- ■;x tl . .:id! The food required for such a count- less 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 ap- pears able to drive them, and to these they resort night by night, however far they may have to fly to t MintiiH>i»Mrt«1 Roosliiig-placcs. 213 mpt, as he had '-three in twenty- on in countless ed with pigeons ; i if by an edipse, duced an incHna- led Louisville, a IS were still pass- ued to do SO for lated that, if two e yard, the num- a large one, ex- mdred and eighty one billion, one ndred and tliirty- or such a count- clearly, for, at half nuch as a pigeon single day, eight ;housand bushels, d fields would, of irtunate that they lal support being lich the unlimited is that they have o disturbance ap- these they resort lay 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 per- sons with horses and waggons, guns and ammunition, had already established themselves on its borders. Herds of hogs had been driven up to fatten on a por- tion 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 oft' at no great distance from the ground 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 sunset 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 magnificent as well as won- derful and almost terrifying sight presented itself. The pigeons, arriving by thousands, alighted every- where, one above another, uiltil solid masses as large \ I if 214 Roosting-places. as hogsheads were formed on the branches all round. Here and there the perches gave way, and tailing on the ground 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 before 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 liad in her hand as they swept past at a point where we had told her to stand, in order to frighten them into *'^c open ground, that we might have a better chance of shooting them. I have seen bagfuls of them that had been killed by no nore formidable weapons than poles swung right and left at them as they flew close pxast. 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, darting fonvard with rapid beats of their wings very much as our ordinary pigeons do. The frogs were as great a source of amusement to us as the pigeons were of excitement. AVherever there was a spot of water, thence, by night and day, came their chorus, the double bass of the bull-frogs striking in every now and then amidst the inde- scribable piping of the multitudes of their smaller n im Bull Frogs. ai5 anches all round, ly, and falling on hundreds of the ense groups with he pigeons were ;)idnight before he :. Before daylight md by sunrise all ccount. I myself it a venture into a i two one day by d in her hand as ; had told her to i *'^c open ground, of shooting them. had been killed 1 poles swung right >ast. The rate at is been computed ch rate they keep invard with rapid as our ordinary rce of amusement ement. AVherever by night and day, s of the bull-frogs amidst the inde- :s of their smaller brethren. It is very diffic Jt 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 skin making them look very grotesque. They are great thieves in their own proper element, many a duckling vanibliing 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 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 w^ms^^^:iwmmmmmmmmm!sm''y?^^'Tmsm-' ^J^ ai6 Tree Frogs. of the invisible minstrels. At last the thing became so hulicrous that we detciminecl, if possilile, to gt-t a sight of one ; and as the lower brandies 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, >vhen our eyes had once fairly distinguished it from the green around. It con- tinued to sit unmoved on its leaf, and we did not dis- turb 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 out. It was a flying squirrel, a kind not so common as the others, and coming out mostly by night. These extraordinary appendages at their sides are used by them to sustain Flying ^(juirrch. 217 he thing became iossil)lc, to get a mclics began at t to the one side, h. Trill— trill- round us, but no ked and laughed, nd was within a n. When almost )k exactly on the e throat swell to le rise and fall of resence. Henry could both see it r eyes had once around. It con- d we did not dis- i beautiful little some means, and was evidently a linary species in having its legs ong stretch of fur legs so as to form t. It was a flying ; the others, and ;se extraordinary \j 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 tlie eye to follow their movements. What most struck me in this unusual development was the evident approach it maile towards the characteristic of birds, being as it were a link between the form of an ordinary quadruped and that of a bat, and standing in the same relation to the wing rf the latter as that docs 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,' sufliciently shows. Then there is a caterpillar in New Zealand out of whose back, at "^ a certain stage of its growth, springs a kind of fungus, 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 accidental union. There are, however, many cases of interlink- ing in the different ' families ' into which life is divided, the study of which is exceedingly curious and interest- ing. I ^. I 2l8 CHAPTER XIV. Our spring crops— Indian corn— rumpkins— Melons— ?>uils— Wild Flowers. |HE first thing we thought of when the spring had fairly set in was to get spring wheat, potatoes, Indian corn, pumpkins, oats, and other 'crops into tlie 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 burn off before it could be tilled. A. heavy hoe was the only implement used, a stroke oi two with it sufficing to make a hole for the potato cuttings, 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 hill of the alternate rows. The Indian corn was planted in the same way, iii hills more than a yard apart, pumpkin seeds being put in with it also. It is my favourite of albthe 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 kd^ ,....i. V. inpkins— Melons — rs. )uglit of when the in was to get spring an corn, pumijkins, )s into tlie ground, very primitive way, ind, the surface of ve had to burn o(T \iy hoc was the only • with it sufficing to gs, and two or three m, so as to form a ighteen inches apart, ;eeds in every third e Indian corn was 5 more than a yard 1 with it also. It is ants of Canada. A think, as charming a Rising higher than ed stems are crested Pumpkins. 219 at the top by a long waving plume of purple, while from tiic upper end of each head of the grain there waves a long tassel resembling [)alc green silk. It is grown to a large extent in Canada, but it is most culti- vated in the Western United States, many farmers on the prairies there growing a great tnany acres of it. It IS used in many ways. When still unripe it is full of delicious milky juice, which makes it a delicacy ,'alth. 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- ings 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, honey- suckles flinging their fragrant flowers in long 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 float- ing meadow of its own green leaves, on the still water 1 1 J S € 224 The ' Bitter Sivect! of the river bends, or of the creeks, whole stretches of the great white water-hly rose and fell with every gentle uudulation. 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. iii L il W WMJ Wl 1 •/; 225 , whole stretches d fell with every ;ter sweet,' which as pretty as any delicate twigs on which, while un- , after a time, this ints and showed, 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 Jogiies, the Jesuit missionary. EFORE 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 15 b I \ 226 Indian Wigwams. in Canada. Moreover, the romantic accounts ci In- dian warriors in the novels of Cooper, and in the 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 liere 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-flown notions doomed to meet a more thorough disappointment. They were encamped on the sloping bank of the creek, lOr it was beautiful summer weather, two or three wig^vams rising under the shade of a fine oak which stretched high over- head. 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 in- wards 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 mmummm mmmm Indian Wigwams. 227 counts ci In- , and in the ise both our ist anxious to 1 in our own agant fear of [ik what they sd that Iiere •ved for them d odd families in the bush 0, we all went t never were } meet a more encamped on was beautiful i rising under ed high over- simply sheets ;s, laid against id sloping in- op. An open sheet of bark, ity as a door, fferent shapes, I few show the le sloping roof le entry at one I ; but in the woods on the St Clair river I once saw a family en- sconced below some yards of white cotton, 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 suffered 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-bones 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 suffer 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, ^ 1*. / ' y^ 228 Indian Dress. had made signs of pain from toothache, and uf his wish that the tooth should be removed, which Was 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 gratitude by wait- ing 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 then hot enough to do without almost any clothing. The dress of the men varied, from the merest mockery of clothing to the full suit of a cotton shirt and a pair of 'long leather or cloth leggings. One of them, a great strapping, man, gave my sisters a great fright, shordy 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 do\vn 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 from papooses, either hung up on a forked pole or resting Indian Babies. 229 le, and uf his J, which >Vas eat glee at the ly,' the doctor itude by wait- le stone pipe- he handed to 0.' The dress icket, a short 1 underneath, doing nothing though it was any clothing, erest mockery lirt and a pair f them, a great fright, shortly lessly as a cat, his pipe, with ing out a piece le sat down on , without ever had finished, n were naked of a piece of bies, of which encampment, is of eyes from )ole or resting against a tree. These * papooses ' were quite a novelty to us. They were simply a tlat board a little longer tlian 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 seen! 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 putting some sticks under 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, which were certainly very small objects to strike in the air ; but the little fellows were wonderful archers. Each half- penny got its quietus the moment it left our fingers, 230 Indian Habits. and they even hit a sixpence which Henry, in a lit of generosity, threw up. Birds must have a very snlall 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 from 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 earnest- ness. It used to astonish me to see the Indians on the ' Reserve ' living in bark wigv anv close to comfortable log-houses erected for them b> Government, but which they would not take as a gift. I used to think it a striking proof of the difficulty of breaking off the habits formed in uncivilized life, and so indeed it is ; but the poor Indians have more sense in what seems mad- ness 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 un- able 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 hardships on them, and repay them so badly after all, is wonderful, and must be attributed to the inveterate force of habit. It seems to be very hard to get wildness out of the blood when y, in a lit of a very sn^all range of their ittle Balearic their dinners igh pole with in England, ow stones so ing. Indeed, lay not learn cient earnest- idians on the ;o comfortable :nt, but which to think it a off the habits ed it is ; but it seems mad- ears they feel year in the ikes them un- ;st, when they g expeditions. ;se wandering em, and repay and must be bit. It seems le blood when Can the Indians be Civilized ? aj i 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 col- lected and taught English and the classics, with the other branches of a liberal education ; but it wus found, 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 live in wigwams. It is the same with the aborigines of Australia. The mis- sionaries 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 dart- ing off again to the wilderness. The New Zealander stands, so far as I know, a solitary and wonderful ex- ception to this rule, the sons of men who were cannibals having already adopted civilization to so great an ex- tent as to be their own shipbuilders, sailors, captains, clerks^ schoolmasters, and farmers. It seems almost the necessary result of civilized 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 adopt their habits. The aboriginal inhabitants of the Sandwich Islands are rapidly approaching ex- 233 Their past Decay as a Race. tinction in spite of all cfTorts to secure their perira- nence. 'I'he vices of civili/uuion have corrupted liie very blood of the race till they seem hopelessly liuling away. 'I'iie natives of New Holland are vanishing in tiie same way, though not, perhaps, from the same immediate causes. The ('aribs of the \Vest Inowering 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 temptation, and rejoiced that he had escaped. He had seen him play- ing 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 hira 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 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 * The ancient Scylhians, also, scalped their enemies. (Hero- dotus, Bk. iv. 64.) The Indians are only Scythians or Tartars who have fallen from the pastoral to the hunting life. : 238 Narrative of Father Jogiies. humane. They are still as wld, to a large extent, as the wild beasts of the woods, in all their habits — still wanderers — still idle and thrifdess— still without any arts — and still without anything hke 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, I 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 of Orleans, in France, and was sent to Canada by the general of his order in 1636. He went up to the 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 * ' Relations des Jesuites dans la Nouvelle France.' Quebec, 1853. -%^^ I large extent, their habits — 5— still without ; like national eing a crushed lost the bold- rly cowed and ;s. Out of the same as ever; they were the be accounts left ;n lived among ich I translate I believe, been us most vividly Protestant, I do ntaius, but you ve of a Jesuit ily of the town ) Canada by the went up to the ear, and stayed sent to Quebec lorious mission' mt, at that time I, and proposed France.' Quebec, N urinative of Father J agues. 239 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 embraced 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 voyaye of about three hundred leagues ; and although the savages who 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-three days after our departure from the Hurons, we arrived, very weary, at Three Rivers, whence we descended to Quebec. Our business being completed in a fortnight, we kept the feast of St Ignatius ; and the next day, the ist of August, 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 hands of the Iroquois. We were forty in number, divided among different canoes ; and that which carried the advance guard having dis- covered, on the banks of the great river, some tracks of men's feet newly impressed on the sand and clay, made it known. When we had landed, some said they mw n " ». *f * ~^''^'^**- 240 Narrative of Father J ogues. 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 themselves by flight into the depths of the woods. This volley ilid 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 Christian catechumens joined us, and having got them to offer a short prayer, they made head courageously 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 engageil, they ; they were the [n this conten I whom all the ; of arms and ly are friends )y their tracks han ourselves ; igue when the h, rose with a L perfect hail of ;s so terrified a ;d their canoes, save themselves Is. This volley e. One Huron and our canoes here were four ng in the rear- who fled before ten Christian t them to ofter a )usly against the men against a led their attack er band of forty le other side of them, they lost ss engageil, they Narrative of Father Jogues. 241 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 account never entered my mind. Could I, I said to myself, leave our French, and these good neophyte, 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 soals from the flames of Hell — it is neces- sary 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 left behind to guard the prisoners. He, seeing me, was at first afraid to approach, fearing an ambush. "Approach," said I, "fear nothing; conduct 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 \\ho were not so. At last they led back that brave 16 2421 Narrative of Father Jogues. chief, Eustache, who cried out on seeing me, that he had sworn to live and die with me. Anolher French- man, 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 abandon- ing his friends, 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 perfecdy 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 tenderly 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, 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 I ^gues. (ig me, that he nolher French- le Hurons take the forest; but ;ht of abandon- ing thought a to come back. 1, one of whom s piece having itantly shot him lischarged than nt, and having h murdered him vith their teeth, greater agony ; a knife in one >ound fast. On ; and fell on his ;enderly affected, n silence, till, all praising him for they ran at me 5, and with the e to the ground again, those who, up and tore out th, and then bit, 3 forefingers thus It pain — grinding Narrative of Father Jogiies. 243 and cranching them to pieces, indeed, as if they had been pounded between two stones, so that frag- ments of the bones came out. The/ L. 'ated the good Renc^ 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 revisited 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 insupport- able bodily torments and mortal anguish of spirit; iiunger, burning heat— besides the imprecations 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 internal suffering at the sight of our first and most ardent Christians among the Hurons in such circumstances. 244 Narmtive of Father Jogiies. I had thought they would be pillars of the new-bom Church, and I saw them become victims of these bloodthirsty savages. ' A week after our departure from the banks of the St I>awrence, we met two hundred Iroquois in eager search for Frenchmen, or their Indian allies, wherever 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 tiie effect of this unfortunate opinion. Having per- ceived 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 the most exposed to their rage, but I had hardly got half through, before I fell under the weight of 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 oh me, and God alone knows the length of time I endured this, and the number of blows which were inllicted on my body, but sufferings borne for His glory are full of joy and honour ! The savages, seeing I had fallen, ygues. Namitivc of Father yogtics. 245 )f the new-bom ctiins of these le banks of the oquois in eager allies, wherever it is a belief ho are going to :hey are cruel to ;y made us feel 1. Having per- )r having caused )f their country- iionour of their ) the woods, to ancy led them ; e, a hundred on down this bitter ^ho could strike I pass last, I was ut I had hardly cr the weight of lid I try to rise ; die on the spot. Ives oh me, and le I endured this, e inflicted on my glory are full of nng I had fallen, not by chance, but that I wished to die, took a cruel compassion on me, lifting me up, in the intention of keeping me so that I should reach their country alive, and then led me, all bleeding, to an open knoll, AVhcn I had come to myself they made me descend, tormented me in a thousand ways, made me the butt of their taunts, and recommenced beating me, letting off another hail of blows on my head, neck, and body. They then burneil 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 barbarians, 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 completing 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 our poor frames, these savages departed to pursue their route, while we continued ours. ' On the tenth day, we reached a place where it was necessary to quit the water-side 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 cany all his plunder, and giving me a 246 Narrative of Father 7 ('S^t^^' part to carry on my Kick, all flayed as it was. Wc 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 others, and they being much scattered, I told Rend 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 Uie 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 these 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 they get from the Dutch.* They made us march-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 • Protobly the Dutch settlers in what is now the western part of New York State. ygues. as it was. Wc vild fruit, whii h the sun at the Is, weakened us the others, ami nd he should try ;ave me, though yself, could not ;k. On the eve small stream, a I of the Iroquois, )oth sides with a lich they used on e were only two ley wrenched off lesh underneath, their nails, which eir cruelty, they je, all the young the gates, armed, ramrods, which lade us march — a he middle, of the vere made to fol- and, that our tor- ) beat us at their now the western part Narrative of Father Jogiies. -247 case, some Iroquois threw themselves into our line to keep us from running off, or avoiding any blows. I was naked, with the exception of a shirt, like a criminal, .ind the others were entirely naked, except poor RentJ (ioupil, to whom they showed the same favour as to me. We were hardly able to reach the stage pre- l)ared 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 Rene'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 tlian 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 were standing clo.se 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 off one of my fingers, which she did, after some reluctance, 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 tlirow it away, which I did. They 248 Narrative of Father J agues. 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 -.vas 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 tiie cruelty of their parents, threw burning 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 smarting from recent wounds, 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 torments were terrible, but God is great ! At sunrise, for three fol- lowing days, they led us back to the scaffold, the nights being passed as I have described.' Thus far we have given the father's own words, a"d 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, witifi their wounds untended, to the ither Jogues. Nc.rrative of Father Jogues. 249 e thumbs of the others, e blood flowing so that [uois tore off a piece of nds, and this -.vas all the When evening came we d to the wigwams to be . They gave us a little md made us He down on IS and legs to four stakes 5t Andrew's cross. The :y of their parents, threw lachs, taking pleasure in d roast. What hideous painful position, unable r attacked by swarms of ting from recent wounds, I by older ones in a state antiest food to keep up uth these torments were At sunrise, for three fol- )ack to the scaffold, the t described.' e father's own words, a"d to be told : — :e over the victims were nd exposed naked, under A'ounds untended, to the same miseries as they had passed through in the first. At the second, an Indian, perceiving that poor Cou- ture ht. 1 not yet lost a finger, though his hands were all torn to pieces, made him cut off his own forefinger with a blunt knife, pnd 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 swelling instantly with the agony. At the third village, a new torture was added, by hanging poor Jogues by his arms, so high that his feet did not touch the ground ; his en- treaty 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 suspension of his sufferings approached. Fresh prisoners arrived, and a council determined that the French should be spared, in order to secure advantages from their countrymen. Their hands being useless from mutilation, they had to be fed like infants, 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, Couture was sent to another village, and Pere Jogues and Rene remained together. Unfortunately, however, of the three, only Couture could reckon upon the preservation of his life. It was the custom with these savages, thp when a pri- soner was handed over to some particular Indian, to supply a blank in his household, --n.used by the death 250 Narrative of Father Jogues. of any of its members in battle, he was forthwith adopted as one of the tribe, and was thenceforth safe ; Init 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 Rend — full of zeal for what he thought would benefit the souls of tlie young Indians — being in the habit of making on them the sign of the cross, had taken a child's hand before making the sign on its brow, when an old man, seeing him, turned to its father, and told him he should 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 heaci, as the two were returning from prayer outside the village, stretched the martyr lifeless, and poor Rent's body was then dragged to the bed of a rivulet, from which a heavy storm washed it, through the night, so that his com- panion could never again find it. This was in Sep- tember, 1642, two months after their leaving Three Rivers. The position of Father Jogues after tlMS 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 ui constant excite- er y agues. tie, he was forthwith was thenceforth safe j )estowed, he might be ne, without the least )uture had been thus ; two others felt that hair. Nor was this proof, for Rend — full Id benefit the souls of e habit of making on \ taken a child's hand ow, when an old man, ler, and told him he doing to his boy what not only do no good, ce was speedily acted head, as the two were the village, stretched lens's body was then t, from which a heavy ight, so that his com- it. This was in Sep- r their leaving Three ler Jogues after tliis :d. His life, he tells of a bird on a branch, iment. But the good )ear him up, amidst all ept in constant excite- Narrative of Father Jogius. 251 ment, found support in comforting dreams thait soothed his slumbers. In these visions he would see. sx. 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 Scripture, 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 staff 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 leggi; -s, «nd ragged shoes of soft leather. The thickcU to>e his skin, and his feet were cut by the stones, clods, and sharp edges of ice. Finding him useless :n 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 he rejoiced 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 returned to the wigwam wth his lam laraAfl vanmsk ■ij timn 25 a Narrative of Father Jogues. load, played him a tliousand 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 declared that his sorceries spoiled their hunting ; 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 oiis, 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 about 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 being 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, ues. Narrative of Father yogties. 253 3, to get him Ti, as if about axe over his arms. They lunting ; and n, that they not let him been wilHng have fared le had been, jch they had the spirit of s he knew of eat what had on his boiled : were about lermission to n, therefore, lioes, though jnd, it being liim carry a liirty leagues id wretched deep rivulet, infant and a poor health, ; on which ng 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 httle 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 after.' However we may differ from him as to the efficacy 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 corn, 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 knew where he was. This misadventure was a new cause of suffering for him. Every ill name that could be thought of was given him, and, what was much worse, he was put into a wigwam with the same man who had torn out his nails, and who was now Ij'ing in the utmost filth and wretchedness, through the effects of some putrid disease. For fifteen days he had to serve as a slave amidst these horrors, until his owners,, returning from the chase, took him to their own dwelling. During the winter, he managed, at great risk, to visit the different villages of the Indians, to encourage the Huron captives. His patience, meanwhile, was gaining hun the respect even of such monsters as 254 Narrative of Father J agues. these. The mother of his host seemed touched by his bearing, and this was increased by his kind- ness to one who had been among his most terrible enemies, but who was' now lying covered with sores. Jogues visited him frequently, consoled him in his illness, and often went to seek berries for him to re- fresh 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 liad the same work of collecting and bringing in wood for the fire. He was now treated com- paratively 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 one, who had a relative with it, attributed to the enchantments of the missionary. But, providentially, the day before he was to have been killed, the warriors arrived, bringing twenty prisoners, in torturing whom Jogues was for- gotten. They forthwith began public rejoicings; scorching, roasting, and at last, eating these poor victims. ' I think,' says Joguet>, ' 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 his 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 i^ttK Hes. Narrative of Father J agues. 255 ed touched by his kind- nost terrible I with sores. him in his r him to re- by his hosts im the noise 1, though he nd bringing reated com- i in danger, ths, and not > have been , who had a iients of the yr before he ^ed, bringing :ues was for- rejoicings ; these poor ;he devils in e coming of ef made his harged with e ransom of he tribes by le 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 1643, to a fishery, which was near a station of the Dutch, he 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 college of his order, at Rennes. In the spring of 1645, 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 16th May, 1646, in company with French officials, he set out on a preliminary journey, to make the necessary preparations, and to ratify the peace, returning 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 %:. ^. — 256 Narrative of Father y agues. of his former suflferings, 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 sub- jected to the same menaces and blows which he had experienced before. A letter from the Dutch traders, some time after, related how their captors, on the very day of their arrival, told them they would Ije killed, adding, that they might be of good cheer, for they would not burn them, but would simply cut off their heads, and stick them on the palisades of the village, to letj other Frenchmen, whom they ex- pected to take, see them on their coming. The immediate cause of their murder was, that the Indians insisted that Jogues had left the devil among some luggage he had given them to keep for him, and that their crop of Indian com had thus been spoiled. On the i8th 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 with their disfigured heads. Only one division of the nation, however— that with which he lived, whose distinguishing sign or title was that of the Bear — seems to have been privy to their mes. with a young :h him some ,r to meet the ardly reached lis companion ked, and sub- which he had Dutch traders, iptors, on the ley would Ije f good cheer, aid simply cut le palisades of vhom they ex- coming. The ivas, that the eft the devil hem to keep lian corn had iber, 1646, the Having been lodge on that ag behind the )mpanion, with of the village ds. Only one it with which ' title was that privy to their Narrative of Father J agues. 25 7 murder. The other two— 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. It-»"&*rai.j J7 * — 258 ^ CHAPTER XVI. The medicine-man -Painted faces-Medals-An cmbassy- KcliKious notions-Feast of the dead-Christian Indians- Visit to the Indians on Lake Huron-Stolidity of the Indians Henry exorcises an Indian's rifle. [HE great man among all tribes of Indians that are 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 power 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, and the mother, not knowing what 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 crea- ture 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 npne bftt those The Medicine-Man. ^59 -An embassy— ristian Indians — ly of lUc Indians jes of Indians :hanged'is the ■ sorcerer who ind physician, ins, or painted scalp of some dinary crest of :h more power lons of British nt are strange settlements lay lowing what to lan to her aid. costume, and, poor little crea- le dust of rotten ig a mystic circle none bftt those he permitted were to enter. Then, taking a drum which lie had with him, or rather a double tambourine, filled inside with little stones, he commenced rattling it over the child, singing meanwhile with all his might. The noise was enough 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 deafen- ing. Next came a mysterious course of deep breath- ing from the bottom of his stomach, all round the child's body, which completed his treatment. Strange to say, the child got better, and of course the faith in the conjurer gready 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 sing- ing.' 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. They held a feast on a mound, by the road-side, in die summer after we went to the river — men, women, 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 shirt and leggings, or the shirt only j but their faces showed a most elaborate care in the a6o Indian Dancing. 'getting up.' Taint of different colours was lavishly expended on them. One had his nose a bright blue , his eyes, eyelids, and d on high, in shiny place. Sec mo 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, Ilim 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 Hin. 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 clergyman asked me, in passing, if I would like to go up Lake Huron with him, on a missionary • y. ft, alike. '. Lake Httron. 269 : author, liim- anly in manu- i face, it were on the sing, if I would on a missionary visit to a settlement of Indians, and of course I told him I should. It was soon settled when we should stirt, 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 of which one of us held in his hand, to prevent any sudden gust from upsQtting 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 in to it if any 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 do^vn 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 wt :^ot ready at a fire on the beach. The water we had to use was our greatest trouble. It was nearly a;© A Night of Horrors. the colour of ink, from the swamps through which it had flowed, ami made our tea the reverse of pleasant in Uste ; but there was no choice, so that we made ourselves as contented as possible. Accommodation for the night was soon i)rovided 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 1 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 liands. 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 our- 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 came, and, with its first dawn, we were up for the day : but what figures we presented 1 My worthy friend's nose seemed to have been turned upside down in the night, the mosquito-bites having made Negotiation xuith an Indian. 271 gh which it of pleasant It we made »mniodation ling the sail ed poles, a )m for two ; and without indled close r rather was alo robe, or retched out ht kept far ■ that night. ;s on a fold, ;hing in the cheeks, and [ made their ght proper. ;s out. We to rid our- \ torment us " was fit to ids, as often er, morning up for the My worthy ned upside aving made it much thicker near the eyes than at the bottom. It was irresistibly laughable to us all, except the unlortun- ate bearer, who was really unwell, partly through the mosquitoes, i)artly through the exposure. Luckily for our breaklixsl, 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 fo-thwith, and very kindly went to the side of the livn, and, by icooping out the sand at the si(' dose 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 being carried on with our benefactor as to the terms he wished to make for guiding us to the Indian settle- ment — gnmts and dumb show having to do the work of words. A few charges of powder and shot, at last, secured his services, and ere long, all being 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 top we looked, far and near, over the forest, which, close at hand, was very miserable and. stunted, from the hindrance to any chance of drainage offered by jjnumt.w ■ -. nuuuwuJu.iiinJ.™.-.'-™ 2'Jl An Indian Settlement. the hill on which we stood. At a distance, however, 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 way 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 setdement, which consisted of a number of wigwams, raised among very small clearings, 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 seats, but with a desk at the one end, the other being approrjriated, 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 leggings, with large silver brooches on their bosoms, and bare heads, squatted down on the one side ; the men, in all varie- ties of costume, from a shirt upwards, took possession of the other ; the door standing open during the whole service, so that we, at the 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 iiliiMMiil ~li tlement. t a distance, however, boundless grandeur — solitude. Descending laking the best of our af successive swamps, :yond another, as the t there, George,' cried way, Blondin fashion, need to mind his own, to the knees in water lour's walking brought isisted of a number of small clearings, a log- e interpreter's house — [iger having been sent 1 congregation in the without seats, but with ler being approijriated, ch was large enough to barn. The squaws, in oats, and leggings, with losoms, and bare heads, ; ; the men, in all varie- pwards, took possession iding open during the the upper end, looked LS close at hand. The f the audience, some of ice of the middle, and Stolidity of the Indians. iT^t others at the door. One, which was more trouble- some than the others during the service, walked straight up the middle, and stood looking the clergy- man 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 the poor brute, with a great swing, over his head, in a succession of somersaults 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 inter- preter, 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 our boat, which we had left on the beach, and in due time, after a pleasant sail, we swept down the St Clair once more, glad enough to get safely home again. The perfect stolidity of the Indians under any amount of excitement is wonderful — unless, indeed, under the influence of whiskey, or excited by the pursuit of hunting— for, usually, you might as well i8 ; iirri inTt-ii-r-rr--^ ijfl Hl>-, 274 Stolidity of the Indians. expect to move the features of an image 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 curiosity, still less of wonder, in any of their movements. 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 ac- quaintance, 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. Everything had to be acted before they would do it themselves. As might be expected, they are superstitious in proportion to their ignorance. One day, an Indian came to Henry in great distress, telling him his gim was bewitched, and could not shoot straight, and ^ifr'r^''-'''""''',!'*'^''^'^ IS. lage as theirs. Canada, they ; who had not They did not ) the carriages i been famihar my house they " curiosity, still venients. The 1 the first to the X may have to difficult it is to nister of my ac- is, told me what e use of a mill. t, and to cut it rk himself; and lour, he had to t it into a canoe, w them how to r, get it put into noe, and paddle efore they would superstitious in day, an Indian ing him his gim ot straight, and Indian Superstition. '^Ih asking him if he could make it right. Henry, of course, knew that the poor fellow was only labouring under a delusion, and at once told him he would make it all right. He, therefore, asked him to let him have it for the night, his wish being to have an opportunity of cleaning it thoroughly. Having made 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. Sometime 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 had said nothing about his unbewitching the weapon, the 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 wnter 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. With a good deal of sly humour, Henry determined to play the conjurer this time, as he had no chance of getting the weapon home. He therefore told the Indian to sit down, and then drew a circle round him and the infected rifle, and proceeded to walk mysteriously \ 276 Indian Superstition. round him, uttering all the while any amount of gib- berish he 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 afraid 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 t onths after, when 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 a 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. What the effect was on the Indian's notions I know not, but we certainly heard no more of bewitcn- ed rifles. '^n imount of gib- lagic passes in imber of times, proceeded to ; was in perfect be complete, urance that he only to take a s about it now. )ff; and Henry after, when he ge, the subject ip to him, and — Indian's gun [enry answered : had only done ould not have lot done some- dian's notions I ore of bewitcn- 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 iU-Backwood doctors. |T 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 beautiful. 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 from 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 quiver- ing over them, preparatory to thrusting its long thin till 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 278 The Humming- Bird. twig to rest when tired. They seem, for a great part of their time, to feed on such insects, the stomach of several 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 showed 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 beautiful 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 • Quoted in Gosse's ' Canadian Naturalist." r a great part he stomach of ing been found 5 a charming of one which than has ever cies.* One of ig at an open J, very feebly, xhaiisted. To lent ; and the lungry, after a try whether Mixing some of it into the utiful creature, sip, and gather- lew off through and every day he little thing another repast, happened to be enough, flying i, in great rest- 1 manufactured, am, the sight of , when he was natural timidity aturoilist.' ■ Canada ^ood /or the Poor. 279 seemed to have been entirely laid aside. Late in the season, a day passed without his visit, and they found that, in all probability, he had tlown off to the south for the winter. Whether he came back again 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 wages. Now, by steady labour and sobriety, many amongst them were proprietors of a hundred acres of excellent land, and sat down at each meal to a table which even well-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, the 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 28o A Bush Story of Misfortune. months he could do no work, and meanwhile his family were driven 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 for- tunately 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 into 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 abandoned his land, moved with his family to a town eighty miles off, and took service at his old trade, in which, after a time, he was able to recommence business on his own account. When the roads got pretty dry in tlie summer-time, we were all summoned by the ' pathmaster ' of our neiglibourhood — a dignitary who is elected annually to superintend the repairs of the different roads — to do J rtnne. Statute Labour. 281 nwhile his family keei> themselves bout once more, but he was still a new trial : a g near his house, roof, though for- The axe and aping from this , the tree was ; restored. For ^le had thus once ales were not yet It with a heavy roni the front, in foot slipped, and ep into the flesh, e. How he got ft his load behind as best he could. opes of success ; his land, moved les off, and took er a time, he was )wn account. :he summer-time, thmaster ' of our elected annually ent roads — to do our statute labour. As money to pay a substitute was out of the question, we had, of course, ourselves to shoulder shovels, and turn 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 off; 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 from which broken ones had been drawn out j 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'll 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 to to keep the roads passable at all in the wet weather. Tlic vacant lots, every here and there, a8a Tortoises. 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 coma out of the water, in the middle of the day, to sun themselves, 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 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 iny improvements ;o repair the road h all suffered from is in the ponds in 1 they used to give ;y were of all sizes, 'ere really beautiful len you had them enough for this was t; out of the water, nselves, or to sleep, and the great point plumping off in an le land. It was all )uld not give it up. iway from the water own way with them. e ground, and seem they might, but they for they give terrible which are like the less and strength of me out one summer, 2 had been coming toise, or ' mud turtle,' )arently sound asleep rse he thought he had mined to catch it if Tortoises. 283 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 ; periiaps 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 excite- ment 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 priioner 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 shoulder the whole way, he had to plod on, the whole distance, to his house, where his appearance caused no small alarm as he came near. Nothing' could even then be done to loosen the creature's hold ; it was like a vice— until a84 Tortoises. at last they managcil to relieve him, by getting the head far enough out to cut it off, after which the jaws were at last parted, and the sulHerer allowed to tell his luckless adventure. One of our neighbours used to shock oUr notions of propriety by eating the ' turtles ' he caught, ' There are fish, there arc llesh, and there are fowl on a turtle,' he used to say in his bad Kngh.^li, in describing their charms, but the worthy Manksman got no one to join him in his appreciation of them. 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 perspire 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. 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 quantity. To get it cheaper, we undertook to send our waggon to The I lay Season. 285 )y getting the head 1> tlu' jaws were at to tell his hickless ock our notions of 5 cauglit. 'There e fo»vl on a turtle,' in (lescril)ing their got no one to join rhe Indians have a m, and would not, I knew one who ^ station, who used had had, after he in summer, when, took it on his back iken by a dreadful He said that he that it was because ire, and this notion or ; but he had the i after the sky had n his shoulder, and Id to fear of such a was mo\vn about the pply was, as yet, far i to buy a quantity. J send our waggon to the field for it, and bring it home ourselves. Henry and 1 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 orilinary box to enable us to pile up a sufficient load. I had to get inside, while Henry forked up 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, th ^h the stumps, at Henry's commands, but without u .y 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 batk, luckily with his head and shoulders free, but the rtst 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 stop the oxen, who were marching off with the four wheels, as solemnly as ever, and had no idea of 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 with no more accidents. a86 Henry and I nearly Drowned. : 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 unfore- seen 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, ini?nding 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, Ve made no attempt to be quick, but drew the canoe' to the land, and sallied up the bank to get some ears of Indian corn which were growmg close by, and offered great attractions to our hungry stomachs. At last, after loitermg 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 have to come over again, and kept stowing them in all the waj along the canoe, except at each end, where we re served a small space for ourselves. When the whoh had been shipped, we took our places— Henry at th( bows, on his knees ; I at the stern, on a seat made o xrly Drowned. nearly drowned, shortly ering canoe of ours, by a )wn parts, and an unfore- iter. Some bricks were nney, and they could not )posite side of the river. 3ff in the forenoon to get lough. We went straight down the shore till we le bricks were to be had. Having nothing to hurry mmonly bright and beau- t to be quick, but drew i sallied up the bank to corn which were growing attractions to our hungry oitermg by the way for an )ur destination, bought the ;anoe some distance up a at we might the more easily gnorance is a bad teacher, ;r as loading a canoe with jht but how to pack them should not have to come wing them in all the way at each end, where we rc- lurselves. When the whole : our places — Henry at the ;he stern, on a seat made of r Henry and I nearly Drowned. 287 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 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. Unfortunately for us, in our ignorance of the proper management of a canoe under difficulties, a great steamer, passing on to Chicago, swept up the stream, close to us, just as we were about to strike out for 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 slight agitation. W^e had got over this trouble when we found, to our alarm, on getting out . 'rom the shelter of the land, that the wind was getting up, freshly 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, t at no such notion occurred to us. \. e 288 Henry and I nearly Drowned. 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 little 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 get over;' and paddle both of us did, at the very top of our strength. We must have been making way swiftly, but o-ving 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 bewilderment, round went the head of the canoe the wong way once and again, in spite of us. 'Shall I throw out the bricks, Henry?' I cried. ' Yes, if you can ; ' but it was next to impos- sible to do it. I did, indeed, manage to toss two or three over, but I was helmsman, and my giving up my paddle left us helplessly whiriing round. Henry had his buck to the bricks, and of course could do no- thing. He, therefore, kept paddling as hard as ever. Seizing my paddle, I joined my efforts to his, and, Irowned. best of our way i than done. The together very soon bark out of our lid round, in spite lile we would get d the water would 1, shining over the ur hope and life; . The bricks got lich I sat was filled iry shouted that it i hard, George, for nay get over ; ' and op of our strength, aftly, but o-ving to ifusion of mind we swim a stroke, we nade any progress, ound went the head and again, in spite bricks, Henry?' I was next to impos- inage to toss two or nd my giving up my round. Henry had ourse could do no- ing as hard as ever. efforts to his, and, Henry falls III. 289 ■Hi 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 reaching 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 take 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's work, much against his will. He had been working in the field, and, being very warm, had drunk a large quantity of water, vrhich brought on very painful cramps of the stomach. There were none but our two selves and the girls at home, and the nearest place to procure medical advice was at the village where I had got the bricks, across the river. There was no time to be lost ; Henry was alarmingly ill, so away I went with the canoe, paddling as hard as I could, and got to my destination pretty quickly. But to get the ' doctor ' was the difficulty. I found ' Major ' Thompson, whom I knew by sight, standing in his shirt-sleeves at the door of the coffee-house he kept, 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 was no more a doctor than 19 i apo American Titles. he a major, but the Americans are fond of assuming and bestowing titles—' I don't know, p'raps he's to Iwme— jist ask Gin'ral Northrop, yonder, if he's seen him come out this morning?' The gentleman to whom I was thus directed proved to be the leader of the choir in the village chapel, and followed some trade, but what, I don't know. He was dressed in a great broad straw hat, blue shirt, linen trowsers, and boots, and was very busy loading a cart with furniture at a door up the street. He was very courteous when I got up to him. ' I guess,' said he, ' you'll be all right; 1 calculate he's not about yet; just go do^vn the street, and turn round that there fence corner, and you'll easy find his place.' Thither I went, and was fortunate enough to find the old man, who, in spite of a dissipated and miserable look, seemed to know his profession. I could only suppose that he must have been driven to such a place from pure necessity. He gave me some stuff from a dispensary, as strange and uncouth as that of the apothecary in ' Romeo and Juliet:'— • About his shelves A b^garly account of empty boxes, Green earthen pots, bladders and musty seeds, Remnants 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, Backwood Doctors. 291 jnd of assuming V, p'raps he's to ader, if he's seen le gentleman to be the leader of d followed some was dressed in a len trowsers, and :art with furniture y courteous when lie, ' you'll be all ;t; just go down fence corner, and I went, and was 1, who, in spite of emed to know his hat he must have re necessity. He ,ry, as strange and • in ' Romeo and es, musty seeds, * by the back-door, mber-room than a rt 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 ofif a second time, with a ) . account of the symptoms, on paper, to hand to the uoctor. 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 the river for him he must have died. The want of sufficient medical help, and too often 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 the treatment he had to undergo ai the hands of a self-styled doctor, who caine to the neighbourhood for a time, and left it when his incompetency was found out. The illness was a very serious one — brain fever— and the treat- ment resorted to was bleeding and depletion, till life nearly ebbed away from sheer exhaustion. The poor fellow was made to take medicine enough almost to kill a strong man ; and was so evidently sinking, that the other inmates of the house determined to send over for old Dr Chamberlain, who had before saved him, when I went to him. ' Killed with too much medicine,' was all he said, when he had seen the wasted form of the patient, and heard the story ; ' if 2Q2 Backwood Doctors. 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 his wife, and when he reached his house, be bit- terly disappointed to find the doctor off ten miles m 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 violenriy 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 keeh cold of a Canadian night, along the road, over the field, and down the steep bank, all covered thickly with snow. The 'doctor,' who lived five miles oft, was, of course, sent for next morning as early as pos- sible. But it would, perhaps, have been better if he had never been sent for at all, for he bandaged the kg so tightly as almost to bring on mortification ; and this he did, too, without attempting 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 ' ^ JWJi ii spite of what has did get through, I have known a )f a medical man lis house, be bit- oflf ten miles in up the river, had : the mercy of an oing in the dark, , about two miles Ece of ice, he fell rise, he found he Id not walk. He again in the keeh le road, over the II covered thickly ed five miles oflf, ig as early as pos- been better if he he bandaged the mortification ; and ting to bring the t was a hopelessly red many weeks of lemen, who joined :r pursuits. They 5ts, and announced a house. A friend Backwood Doctors. ^93 of mine, who had unfortunately lost a front tooth, thought he had better take advantage of sucfi an op- portunity, 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 after this, when I had left the river, and of whom I have heard some curious stories. Dr White — let that be his name — had been in large practice in Ireland, but 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 afterwards came to our part, and bought a farm, 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 294 Backwood Doctors. regret, that a man at once so clever and comely should have been so great an enemy to himself. 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 in 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 sutferer with a candle in his hand. ' What's the matter with you?' The patient simply opened his mouth wide, and pointed into it widi his fingers. ' Let me see,' said White. ' Open your mouth, sir '-- taking the candle out of the candlestick, and holding it close to 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, which was followed by a rush outside the door to clear his mouth, as he seemed half choked. ' Bring a light here,' cried . White, 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. 1 Backwood Doctors. ^95 vex and comely ;o himself. He he was a little s very diverting, the winter, when ing busy, Henry , who had come ictor's assistance, leak, from some had come to get ig taken into the was comfortable mce, and walked hand. ' What's t simply opened with his fingers. )ur mouth, sir ' — tick, and holding lie mouth was, of possible, and the lash into it, as far the patient that : farm, which was [> clear his mouth, I light here,' cried :oolly. ' How do ; soft candle, the wrought a miracle 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 instruments that would have done ? ' CerUinly 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 intemperance. His widow and family were enabled to gel 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. % 296 CHAPTER XVIII. American men and women— Fireflies— Profusion of insect life- Grasshoppers— Frederick and David leave Canada— Soap- making— Home-made candles— Recipe for washing quickly- Writing letters — The parson for driver. 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, every one 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 remained in Britain. It can- not 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 few who either own or can borrow a horse or vehicle, and those in the country who have neither will send in all American Men and Women. 297 fusion of insect life— ;ave Canada— Soap- or washing quickly — summer drew on of which we never some neighbour's ). The visit itself not have wished loveliness of the 1 got a couple of n, for no one in ;an help it. I have ime persons who ti Canada, without i have been fond I Britain. It can- 1 the one country towns, there is no iiere are few who s or vehicle, and ler 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 exertion of walking irk- some to most people ; and, on the other hand, in winter, the cold and the snow are such hindrances as to throw them out of the habit of it. There scams 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 inhabit- ants 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 Pro- vince is a very poor specimen of a man, unless he be the child of foreign parents. A few generations takes all the roundness from his figure, and brings him very much to the type of the Indian, as in the case of the New Englanders, who, though originally English, are now Htde better in appearance than White Indians. Indeed, 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, if at all beyond youth, were fleshless, long-necked, calfless, cadaverous-looking 298 American Men and* Women. creatures ; the women, in their coal-scuttle sun-bon- nets, with a long green veil hanging down 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 me by telling how he had heard a servant-woman who was in fierce dispute with a com- rade, declare that she was no better than three broom- sticks tied together. 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 steadi- ly as any other. A Canadian bull is a very quiet and inoffensive creature. Everything, in fact, seems alike to degenerate 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 .hashes of light among the trees in the forest ^t ray siof. I tried every theory I could think of to accr- j'»^ ibr it, some of them ridiculous enough, but it v,as not till I came home that I hit on the right one, which I might have been sure of at first. Women. Dal-scuttle sun-bon- ; down their backs, round the waist, inge apparitions to ilngland. The girls but they soon lose Mr Brown, up the ; how he had heard dispute with a com- r than three broom- ty nearly right as to three broomsticks, IS stout. It is the jeings. A horse or its spirit in Canada, ireak in a colt, for if soon pull as steadi- is a very quiet and in fact, seems alike )m its native English on the old mare, I was walking her len I was struck by ing the trees in the :heory I could think 1 ridiculous enough, J that I hit on the »een sure of at first. Fircjlies, 299 The phenomenon in question was nothing bu'- an immense number of firctlies sporting among the branches, and their motion made them seem as if every leaf were a Lcyden 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 from different parts of their bodies, but chiefly from the lower half, and are often caught 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 formeriy 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 from the htmds of the Mexican priests: \ 300 Profusion of Insect Life. • She beckoned and descended, and drew out From underneath her vest a cage, or not It rather might be called, so fine the twigs That knit it— where, confined, two fireflies gave Their lustre. By that light did Mac'ic first Behold the features of his lovely guide.' I am afraid he would have remained ignorant of her lovehness, 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 reminded, 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 phi- losophy, in the ages before Christ, to the radiance 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 mailing down the Niagara Rivei to Chippewa, which is the last por^ 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 or deck had either to get below, or turn their backs, oi stand behind some protection. You could see th( land through them only as you would have seen i Insect Life. led, and drew out a cage, or n^t so fine the twigs ned, two fireflies gave It did Mac'ic first lovely guide.' ave remained ignorant of very had depended on the , which are very beautiful, brightness, but are far too have often been reminded, id there, kindUng his little sailing in light, for a brief of the fine figure in which umination afforded by phi- •e Christ, to the radiance ly of the tropics ' lights up I darkness. It is equally vhat a profusion of insect ilf in the summer-time in ng down the Niagara River last por*- above the Falls, in r, when, all at once, the inowy cloud of white gnats, ntless numbers, that all on low, or turn their backs, or ction. You could see the IS you would have seen it Profusion of Insect Life. 301 through a snow-storm, and this continued till we reached our destination — a distance of several miles. How manv millions of millions of these frail creatures must there have been ? There is another 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 disagreeable-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 the air, or resting on the earth ; but Sir James Emerson Tennent tells us that, in Ceylon, they sometimes fly past in flocks apparenUy 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, when 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 successions of pests as often to injure its har- vests to a 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 districu, which, on their appear- ance, 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 t -ly noticed of these plagues, as its size and '•' . -Mr is noise in fly- • Sir J. E. Ten" jnt's ' Ccvlon,' 1. 247. iimflinihiVta IBM I m 302 Grasshoppers. ing, and the way it strikes against your clothes, and in- stantly 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 morn- ings they take short flights, as if to prepare for the day's work, and about nine o'clock rise ir cloud after cloud and fly off. About noon the numbers seem greatest. The light is then palpably obscured— t' ere is an unearthly ashen light over everything— the a 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 fiUing it, as the light strikes on the myriads of moving wings. A sound, indescribable, but overpowering, from the thought of its source, comes down from the vast hosts, filling the mind with a sense of awe and amazement. Such flights have hitherto been seen and heard only outside the settled parts of Canada, but in every part of it there are multitudes. I have seen them in countless thousands in the fields and on the roads, and have often caught them to look at the wonderful beauty of their limbs, which are finished far more elaborately than the finest ornament, and are suited I f mm Frederick and David leave Canada. 303 ■our clothes, and in- to draw attention, in Canada, having ally from the vast Red River they are le to realize what a to the Egyptians of e grass in the morn- to prepare for the k rise ir cloud after the numbers seem bly obscured — t' ere everything — the a . sometimes to nearly hanges from blue to )lour, as the clouds ing motion fiUing it, ds of moving wings, [powering, from the . from the vast hosts, ,we and amazement, ieen and heard only da, but in every part have seen them in J and on the roads, )ok at the wonderful re finished far more nent, and are suited to the habits and wants of the creature in the most admirable manner. The summer of the second year saw a diminution of our family circle by the departure of Frederick and David to the United States to push their fortunes there. They did not like farming, and were attracted by the population and wealth of the States, as com- pared with Canada. It was a sad time with us who remained, when they left us. In those days a great many young men left the province, from the difficulty of finding suitable employment in it. Where neariy all were farmers, and money was very jcarce, and the towns mere villages, there was, of course, very little to do, and it wa.s not to be wondered at that young men did not relish the thought of spending 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. Anythuig 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 place of the shanties and log-houses -vhirh served at first. Some years of high prices ma'J'.' ' ii T> all think their fortunes sure at once, and e\p:y oiie />t his gig and his piano, and the girls went .> boa aiTig-scLovle, and the young men idled and ^.tiu. *ed round iu fine clothes. If fewer leave Canada 304 Hard Struggles. for the States now, it is not because they are any fonder than ever of hard work. Even where their fathers' farms would pay for hiring men to work them, they Uke to be gentlemen, and flock in crowds to turn doctors or la'wyers in as easy a way as possible. It is wonderful how many there are of both these professions, and how many more hurry on to enter them. But there were no such openings in the early days of our settlement, and my brothers must either >-''ve plodded on driving oxen and hoeing, ploughing, h. 'TDwmg, and the like, or have left for the great CO' -ry 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 en- abled him to make a good deal of money. Our household, when they had left us, was very quiet com- pared with the past— only Robert, Henry, and I re- maining, with my two sisters as the mistresses of the mansion. What a curious Robinson-Crusoe life we led in Jmsi •Amm use they are any Even where their len to work them, ock in crowds to a way as possible, ire of both these lurry on to enter ;nings in the early jthers must either hoeing, ploughing, left for the great i not find life very and both had hard Frederick, indeed, 1 fever cutting him •n a journey in the he knew near him, : he was gone till illy made his way, ed in a rising town t his advancement ortune to buy some ly after, which en- l of money. Our iras very quiet com- , Henry, and I re- e mistresses of the loe life we led in Soap-making. l^S many ways in those first years. A. barrel raised on a stand, the bottom full of holes, and covered with a 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. All 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 off. 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 trans- mutation 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 strongrlooking 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 alkali that 20 ■teiwMUMaM«itt» 3o6 Home-made Candles. had been dravm from the ashes. The serious con- sequences of his mistake flashed on him in an instant Snatching a tumbler, he rushed to the cellar, where, providentially, there happened to be a barrel of vine- gar, 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 excelled 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 another 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 minute or two on going to bed, or to enable some one to read, when a craving for literary food set * in. Lumps of pine, full of resin, were our more cus- -■.-^■«^v»S».ri-.i-.lSJ ai<«gto ygi . irv» ' vhen, behold 1 out rushed a whole townful, sending him off at once in igno- minious flight. I used to think the nests of the wasps, which we sometimes found hanging from branches in the woods, most wonderful specimens of insect manufacture. They were oval in form, with 3i6 Racoons. the mouth at the bottom, and looked often not unlike 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 cha- racter, and becomes as much paper as any we can make ourselves. It is wonderful that me- should not have found out, from such a lesson, the oi making this most precious production much sooner than they did. The racoons, usually called 'coons, were a great nuisance when the corn 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 make fine robes for their sleigh. I never knew but one man who had eaten racoon, and he was no wiser than he needed to be. He was A Racoon Hunt. 317 i often not unlike of what material ed? Of paper — )ur, made by the of decayed wood, it changes its cha- er as any we can at me*^ should not the oi making sooner than they ons, were a great tting ripe. They d did a great deal We used to hunt ig strips of hickory could have done p of our dogs, who ch they had taken )y the help of the nt and commotion, d of one of them if it their heads so far ose, that you were )ite in whatever way se to us, got skins robes for their sleigh. had eaten racoon, ded to be. 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 short- cake ! ' I wished him joy of his taste. I remember one racoon hunt which formed a sub- ject of conversation for long after. Mr Weit's field of Indian com had been sadly injured, and our own 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 ammunition ready. ' I say, Ned Thompson,' said one, ' I hope you won't be making such a noise as you did last time, frighten- ing 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 farm, the dogs collected, a hearty supper enjoyed, amidst the boasts of some and the jokes of others, and off we set The moon was very young, but it hung in the clear heavens like a silver bow. A short walk brought us to the forest, 3i8 A Racoon Hunt. and here we spread ourselves, so as to take a larger sweep, intending that the 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 the 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 wood to keep you in mind that you must lift your feet well, like the Indians, if you did not wished to be tripped up. The light gleaming through the great trees on the wild 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 first 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 j but the dogs showed that they thought differently, by the way they tore and scratched at the bottom of the tree. What with the leaves, the feeble- ness of the moonlight, and our distance from the object, every eye was strained, for a time, without see- ing a sign of anything living. At last, Henry motioned that he saw it, and sure enough there it was, its shape *.,-*- .•MMililMiiiWiMfk' :j.Ut.ai.*.i^iW»i*a?*- The Town of Busaco. 319 to take a larger should gradually le. We could see and then, through would have been ound had not the As it was, many was rough work — ;es, through brush, ivood to keep you feet well, like the : tripped up. The trees on the wild ng in the red flame le smoke, was very t, scented anything, us. Presently we We forthwith made ly as possible, while on from making its it was the trouble. :an see,' whispered sd that they thought nd scratched at the le leaves, the feeble- distance from the a time, without see- ist, Henry motioned lere 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 v.'h3t seemed to be the racoon, but had been only a knot in the tree, or, perhaps, a shadow. We did not come home till 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 was walking up the toad 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. * All 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 have been there for years. When it will be a town it is very hard to conjecture, It stands on the outside of a swampy belt, which must have deterred any one from settling in it, and towns don't go before agricultural improve- ment, but follow it, in such a country as Canada, or, 320 The Town of Biisaco. indeed, anywhere, except in a merely manufacturing district, or at some point on a busy line of travel. Some time after, a poor man effected one great step towards its settlement, by a very unintentional improve- ment. 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 the 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 kept 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 be- fore commencing his ditch. If so, he would make money after all, as his improvement raised its value immensely. A number of the young men of the humbler class along the river used to go away each summer ' sailmg ' —that is, they hired as sailors on the American vessels, which traded in whole fleets between 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, whom I knew very well-William Forth, the :: ". Ml I ntietr'.ifi, - ■-*-* ■ (saco. lerely manufacturing busy line of travel, cted one great step lintentional improve- i thought that if he swamp to the river, ive a mill, which he lank. But it turned liis money gone, that into the swamp from at had lodged in the here by the roots of i"or a time the stream le swamp got better, til, in a few weeks, swamp became good had bought it be- so, he would make nent raised its value of the humbler class ;ach summer ' sailing ' the American vessels, tween the eastern and . It was a very good earn money so easily, fays free from danger. ll_William Forth, the Summer ' Sailing! 321 son of a decent Scotch tailor— was lost in it in the autumn of our 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 they heard the news of a great storm in the north- west. He was never heard of again, and no doubt perished with all the crew, his vessel having foundered in the gale, \ears 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 found 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 sadly 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, unfortun- ately, thrust it in too far, and was himself drawn in, and crushed between the innumerable teeth by which the grain is pressed out. Before the machine could be stopped, poor James was cut almost to pieces. Thu.i even the peaceful St Clair had its share in the trials that follow man under all skies. 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, 21 A Boy Dro'wned. 32a lost a beautiful boy in a most distressing way. There was a wood wharf close to his house, from the end of which the lads used to bathe on fine summer evenings. A number of them were amusmg them- selves 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 h.s struggles at which she had been looking with such unconcern. The poor woman took to her bed for weeks 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 whok way-proofs of the sway France once had in North 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 ou Lake St Clair; Sault Ste Marie at Lake Superior ; besides a string of old French names all doNvn the Mississippi, at the mouth of which was the whilom French province of Louisiana, on the Gulf of Mexico. This shows sigm- 1 I/. distressing way. s house, from the on fine summer e amusing them- Gilbert, the wife ning out from her saw one who was ;ht, very strangely, news that her boy at it had been his looking with such »k to her bed for d seemed broken- eighbourhood, and es on the map, all ^, often struck me. ace them the whole once had in North s, from the Atlantic nes. For instance, lisburg, and Maine, Lower Canada was oil Lake St Clair; besides a string of Mississippi, at the French province of This shows signi- srf Ah Indian Device, 3»3 ficantly the great vicissitudes that occur in the story of a nation. But our own 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 which lay for miles like 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, down the current. I soon noticed a hand, close at the side, slowly sculling it by a pad- dle, and keeping the bush down the stream. As it glided past, I watched it narrowly. 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 what it meant An Indian instantly 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 im- mense flocks of waterfowl, after the ice broke up, each year ; but they were so shy that we were very little the better for them. It was very different in earlier days, before population increased and incess- ant alarm and pursuit had made, them wild, for the whole province must once have been a great sporting 3^4 Coolers Paradise. ground. There is a mars . 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. radise. Z'^S )n Lake Ontario, not far ite's Paradise, from the that name found in the ch thronged it thirty or Ctl AFTER XX. Apple-bees— Orchards— Gorgeous display of apple-blossom— A meeting in the woods— The ague— Wild parsnips— Man lost in the woods. |E had a great deal of fun when our orchard got up a Httle, and when we were able to trade with our neighbours for fruit, in what they used to call ' apple-paring bees.' The young folks of bolu sexes were invited for a given evening in the autumn, and came duly provided with apple-parers, which are ingenious contrivances, by which 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 Avhen cut being threaded in long strings, and hung up till they shrivel and get a leather-like look. When wanted for use, a little boiling makes them swell to their original size again, and brings back their softness. MWH 326 Orcliards. You may imagine how plentiful the fruit must Tje to make such a liberal use of it possible, as that which you see all through Canada. You can hardly go into any house in the bush, however poor, without having a large bowl of 'apple sass' set before 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 unbounded ; some are busy with their sweethearts ; some, of a grosser mind, are no less busy with the apples, devouring a large pro- portion of what they pare; and the whole proceed- ings, in many cases, wind up with a dance on the bam- floor. While speaking of orchards and fiuit, 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 un- dulations of the landscape, the green lost in the uni- versal 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 excellent— that is, the good kinds. You see thousands of bushels small and miserable enough, but they are used only for pigs, or fruit must be to )le, as that which an hardly go into r, without having fore you — that is. The young folks ' bee ' comes oft i ; some are busy grosser mind, are uing a large pro- le whole proceed- lance on the bam- a fiuit, I am re- iver Thames, near in June, when the ; as beautiful as it A. great rolling sea I fell with the un- en lost in the uni- indeed, did it seem you could not enter ig quantities of it !, as huge bouquets, ;ad of the blossom !n only hawthorn, client— that is, the f bushels small and id only for pigs, or A Meeting in the Woods. 327 for throwing by the cartload into cider-presses. The eating and cooking apples would make any one's mouth water to look at them— so large, so round, so finely tinted. As to flavour, there can surely be no- thing better. Families in towns buy them by the bar- rel : in the country, even a ploughman thinks no more , of eating them than if they were only transformed pota- toes. 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 plentiful. 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 conducted the' services. All round, were waggons with 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 con^ veyances. There was no preparation of benches, I 3^8 The Ague. or convenience of any kind. It so happened that I came only at the close. The proceedings were over, and there was nothing going on, for some time, but a little conversation among the leaders. In one waggon I noticed a whole htter of pigs, and found, on asking how they came to be 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 attend to their wants, and enjoy the meet- ings, at the same time. There were often open-air assemblies in the woods. Temperance societies, with bands of music, drew great crowds. Rough boards were provided for seats, and a rough platform did for the speeches. All the country side, old and young, went to them, for most of the people in the country districts are rigid teetotallers. There are poor drunk- ards enough, after all, but it is a wonder there are no more, when whiskey is only a shilling or eighteen- pence 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 undrained soil, in which a great depth of vegetable matter lies rotting, must be the cause, for when a district 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, i^'i^-.' Wild Parsnips. 3^9 happened that I sediiigs were over, ■ some time, but a i. In one waggon 1 found, on asking liey belonged to a th whom to leave lem with her, that d enjoy the meet- ere often open-air ince societies, with Is. Rough boards jh platform did for ie, old and young, )ple in the country ;re are poor drunk- I'onder there are no lining or eighteen- •as the ague, which The poisonous va^ :d soil, in which a es rotting, must be settled, and opened iried, it disappears. ' to say, but all my :s, and poor Eliza her. It is really a 1 a burning fever, occasioning a thirst which cannot be satisfied by 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. All the bedclothes in the house are found to be insufficient to keep the sufferer warm. After a day's misery 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 interval 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 quantities 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 meanwhile it is a dreadful evil. It used to be a common English disease, but it is now nearly un- known in most parts of our country. Oliver Cromwell died of it, and in Lincoln it was one of the most prevalent maladies. I remember meeting an old Englishwoman who firmly believed in the old recipe for its cure, of a spider steeped in a glass of wine and swallowed with it. That was the way, she said, it had been cured in her part, and nothing could be better ! A terrible misfortune befell 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 330 Children in the Wood^. lingered for a time, and at last died in agony. This 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 {^. Lost in the Woods. Zl"^ n agony. This lilies run in the ies of a similar n crying to us 1 settler, a few nd that all the hem. We lost found that the ttle creatures — into the woods ne out with the i wet places, at d gradually run kvere fairly lost, nd women alike The forest was ;s, which voice ;atching an an- rchers returned s who kindled eir kind efforts. ;e — four — five — vere still in the lie seventh day, late. The two irl dead, the boy r, brought him , while, that they had wandered hither and thither, as long as they 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 nearer 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 had gone out to chop wood at some distance from their house, but I 33^ Lost in the Woods. had been unable to find his way back. His wife 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 imtil, 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 dajs, but had, at last, luckily wandered near some human habitations, and had escaped. He was a timber-sciuarer — 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 won- derful 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. Fortunately 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 is. ck. His wife and earnestly for liim, nd him. Months rd of him until, at )crsons came upon m the place, lying de, the clothes on ost man. He had lis home, living on 1, till death, at last, if a man who had .d, at last, luckily )itations, and had irer — that is, he e intended for ex- liem lie closely to- in freight, and had Bay, amongst the nany of those won- irought. His cabin ork, which lay now Fortunately it was e would have paid On the morning of out at a very early the expectation that a few days at most. to be lying on the Losi in the Woods. ZZ3> ground, 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, and 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 dis- tinguish 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, accorrVlngly, he forthwith turned, resting only to eat his dinner which he had brought with him from home. But, to his utter dis- may, 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 >vhite moss on the trees, as he passed a swamp, looked 334 Lost in the Woods. the very image of desolation ; and, at last, he felt convinced that he was lost. As evening closed, every living thing around him seemed 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 j the crows flying hzily 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 light. 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 everything by turns. Turning round, he prayed on his bended knees, then sat down again in his awful loneliness. Phosphoric lights gleamed from the decayed trees on the ground ; myriads of insects filled the air, and the hooting of owk, and the sweep of night-hawks and bats, served to fill his mind with gloomy fears, but ever and anon, his mind reverted to happier 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 help in this terrible trial. He had ceased to conjecture where he was, and had lost even the aid of a vague track. Nevertheless, if he could only push on, he thought he must surely effect his escape before long. (s. , at last, he felt ning closed, every )py but he. Like sees the sea-birds or toppling over home, he noticed holes J the crows reatures of the day There was no been, he was too : could do no more orning came again. it a great tree, he rurning round, he it down again in his s gleamed from the ads of insects filled and the sweep of fill his mind with his mind reverted growing feeling of n his way on the his feet once more, er, asking His help ;ased to conjecture the aid of a vague only push on, he escape before long. Los/ in the Woods. 335 The sun had a great sweep to makf, 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 grew fainter. Fatigue, anxiety, and hunger were meanwhile growing more and more unbearable. His nerves seemed fairly unstrung, and as he threw himself 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 the other hand, be far distant from it. He had walked fifty miles he was sure, and where in this interminable wilderness had he reached ? His only food through the day had been some wild fruits and berries, which were very scarce, and so acrid that they Dained his gums as he ate them. He had passed no stream, but had found water in holes of fallen trees. What he suffered that niglit 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 the horrible labyrinth in which he was now shut up. From the morning of the third day his mind, he assured me, became so be- wildered that he could recollect very little of what then took place. How he lived he could hardly say- it must have been on frogs, and snakes, and grass, and weeds, as well as berries, for there were too few 33^ Lost in the Woods. of these last to keep him alive. Once he was for unnle cnou,h to come ou a tortoise, wlmh he cuukl not resist the temptation to kill, though he knew that .f he f..l!<,wea it .ini.tiy it wouUl guide hin. to some stream, an.l thus allord him the means of escape. Its raw flesh gave him two great meals. His clothes were m tatters, his face begrimed, his luur and beard malted his eyes hot and bloodshot, and his strength was fad- ing fast. On the tenth day he thought he could go no farther, but must lie down and die. But dehver- 1 1 Ac he Iw half unconscious ance was now at hand. As ht lay, from weakness of body and nervous exhaustion, he Icied he heard the dip of oars. ^^^^^ faculty was revived. His ear seemed to gather m. natural quickness; he could have heard the ^n.^ sound at a great distance. Mustermg all h. strcng , he rose, and with the utmost haste nude lor the .Section from which the cheering -"^ P-^^^^^^ Down some slopes-up opposite banks-and there a Lt the broad water lay before him. He could no ett with the mere vision of hope, s. on he rushed through the thick brush, over the fretung of fa Uen „.ber and the brown carpet of leaves, till he reached tfnver-bank. which was sloping at the po^^^^^^^^^ he emerged, a tongue of land jutting out mto the wat r cltar of trees. To the end of this, w.th anxiety r;::cribable. he ran, and kneeled in the^tU^^f prayer at once to God for his merciful deliverance, and to man, when the boat should come, whose ap- h. Lost in t/ie yVoods. 337 •c he was fortunnte hidi ho coiilil ncjt lie knew that if he im to some stream, f escape. Its raw lis ilothcs were in and beard malted, s strength was fail- loiight he could go I die. But delivcr- ,y, half unconscious ous exhaustion, he In an instant every ;med to gather un- ; heard the faintest ring all his strength, laste made for the g sound proceeded, junks— and there at lim. He could not e, so on he rushed he fretting of fallen eaves, till he reached ; at the point where jutting out into the I of this, with anxiety ;d in the attitude of merciful deliverance, luld come, whose ap- proach he now heard more clearly from afar, — that he might be taken to some human dwelling. The boat did come — his feeble cry reached it, antl in a moment, when they saw his thin arms waving for help as he kneeled before them, the bows were turned to the shore, and he was taken on board — the lost one found 1 lie 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 liearty 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. aa 338 CHAPTER XXI. A tornado— Bats— Deserted lots -American inquisitiveness— An election agent. HAVE already spoken of the belt of trees running back some miles from us, fami- liarly 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 province, 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 was in the height of summer, and every- thing around was in all the glory of the season. The tall mints, with their bright flowers, the lofty Aaron's rod, the beautiful Virginia creeper, the wild convol- vulus, 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 un- dulations, with clear streamlets every here and there in the hollows. The woods themselves presented a per- petual pirture 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 SCXI. imerican inquisitiveness — ;ent. len of the belt of trees le miles from us, fami- ; Windfall,' from their rn down by a hurricane rs after, when living for province, I had a vivid le storms really are. It ing along quietly on my of summer, and every- )ry of the season. The owers, the lofty Aaron's eeper, the wild convol- ve roadsides, and ran, as 2m, into the openings of a long roll of gentle un- s every here and there in nselves presented a per- ode along. High above, :1ms, and beeches, and free of branches till they A Tornado. 339 stretched far overhead; while round their feet, not too thic!:ly, 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 the earth, like the darkness that precedes a storm. Yet there was no other sign of any approaching convul- sion of nature. There was 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 at- tracted my notice. The next moment the tops of the taller trees began to swing in the wind, which presently increased in force, and the light branches and tv igs began to break off. I was glad 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 mi lUtcs more, and the storm burst on the forest m all iu violence. Huge trees swayed to and fro under its rude shock like the masts of ships on a temp jstuous sea ; they rubbed ■mm 340 A Tornado. and creaked like a ship's timbers when she rolls, and the sky grew darker and darker, as if obscured by a total eclipse of the sun. It was evident that the fury of the storm would not sweep through the open where I stood, but would spend itself on the woods before me. Meanwhile, as I looked, the huge oaks and maples bent before the tornado, 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 round 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 ground. A few minutes more, and jt swept on to make similar havoc in other partsi 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, though 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 far back, was one vast chaos, through which no human efforts could J 1 A Tornado. 341 en she rolls, and 5 if obscured by evident that the hrough the open elf on the woods d, the huge oaks the air was thick n a moment, and liundreds beneath . I noticed that , the direction of 1 wrenched round Some went down Ided and sank in lacker and blacker of trees filled the ; of them flung by the air, or dashed id. A few minutes ilar havoc in other e air was clear of smaller branches f some current that , though unfelt on I surprisingly short . eighth of a mile in 1 how far back, was liuman efforts could find a way. The same night, x«r we afterwards learncil, the tornado had, struck points incredibly dis- tant, taking a vast sweep across Lake Ontario, ravaging a part of New York, and finally rushing away to the north in the neighbourhood of Quebec. The destruction it caused was not limited to its ravages in the forest; farmhouses, barns, orchards, and fences, were , swept away like chaff. I passed one orchard in which every tree had been dragged up and blown away ; the fences for miles, in the path 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 jjarn and stables had been wrenched into fragments, the contents scat- . .v>d to the wu:cs, and the very horses lifted into ih^ air, and carried some distance. Saw-mills were stripped of their whole stock of ' lumber,' every plank being swept up into the vortex, and stre\vn no one knew whitlier. 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 kcUle, 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 mo- ment, a tangled desolation, left to itself, except by the beasts that might choose a safe covert in its re- cesses. Thenceforth, the briars and bushes would 34a Bats. have it for their own, and grow undifturbed. No human footstep would ever turn towards it till all the standing forest around had been 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 of a bat as .Buffon was of a squirrel. They were no larger than our English bats, and undistinguishable from them to an ordinary eye. Almost as often as we went out on the fine warm evenings, we were attracted by their fly- ing hither and thither below the branches of the trees, or out in the open ground, beating the air witli great rapidity with their wonderful membranous wmgs. A bird peculiar to America used to divide attention witn them in the twilight-the famous ' whip-poor-will,' one of the family of the goatsuckers; of which, in Eng- land, 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 incess- antly, 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 nighl, but is purblind J ndifturbed. No ards it till all the iown. immer, and used reat terror of my afraid of a bat as re no larger than ible from them to IS we went out on racted by their fly- iches of the trees, the air witli great ranous wings. A vide attention witn vhip-poor-will,' one of which, in Eng- 1 example. It is sounds, from which ire repeated incess- :nt when they come The flight of the they double, and Their food is the lich, I should think, r\ their case at least, ear." The gape is the eye ; and woe laffers that may cross light, but is purblind Deserted Lots. 343 by day, its huge eye showing, the moment you see it, that, like that of the owls, it is for service in partial darkness. The light completely confuses it, so that, until sunset, it is never seen, unless when one comes by accident upon its resting-place, where it sits sleep- ing on some log or low branch, from which it will only fly a very short distance if disturbed, alighting again as soon as possible, and dozing off" forthwith. They used to come in June, and enliven the evenings till September, when they left us again for the south. Some people used to think it fine sport to shoot birds so swift of flight ; but, somehow, I could never bring myself to touch creatures that ^oke 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 bushes of all kinds, climbed up, outside and in j the roof was gone, and only the four walls were left. I never learned more than the name of the person who had expended so much labour on the place, and then 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 insurmountable obstacle, and had deserted the home they had once been so fl 344 American Inquisitiveness. proud of. One case I knew was caused by a touching incident of bush-life. A young, hearty man, had gone out in the morning to chop at his clearing, but had not returned at dinner, and was found by his wife, when she went to look for him, lying on his back, dead, with a tree he had felled resting on his breast. It had slipped back, perhaps, off the stump in falling, and liad 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 no- thing even towards extricating her husband's body, but had to leave it there till the neighbours came, and chopped the tree in 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 particularly 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. eness. sed by a touching ty man, had gone clearing, but had )und by his wife, ^^ing on his back, ing on his breast. e stump in falling, What agony sucli must have caused ivife could do no- usband's body, but hbours came, and ;ould be got away. ft the scene of so isitiveness of both e more particularly liave often laughed lur intercourse not e less polished of ag doAvn to Detroit ) run between that so small that it was that one very stout irch when she went pper deck to look je on the opposite 1 very few minutes, shores of the river. American Inqidsitiveness. 345 A little pug-nosed man, in a white hat and white linen jacket, was the only one up beside me ; and it was not in his nature, evidently, that we should be long without talking. ' Fine captain on this here boat ? ' said he. I agreed with him offliand ; 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 leaving County- Seat right straight, I guess. Whar you born?' * Where do you think ? ' I answered. ' Either IreUmd or Scotland, anyhow.' ' No. You're Irish, at any rate, I suppose ? '—I struck in. ' No, sirr— no, sirree— I'm Yankee born, and bred in Yankee to\vn, and my parents afore me. Are you travelling altogether ? ' I asked him what he meant, for I really didn't under- stand this question. 'Why travelling for a living— what do you sell ? ' On my telii.ig him he was wrong for once, he seemed a Uttle 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 him, and said, I was ' temperance.' ' You don't drink none, then ? Well, I do ; ' on which he suited the action to the word, putting the bottle back in its place again, 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 long since you came from England ? ' I answered. ' You remember when you came?' I said' I hoped I did, else my 346 An Election Agent. faculties must be failing. 'I guess you, were 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 Unen blouse, with 'dandy' trowsers, wide across the body, and tapering to the feet, with worn straps of the same material; old boots of a fashionable make, an open waistcoat, and an immensity of dirty-white shirt- breast ; a straw hat, and a long green and lilac ribbon round it. A cigar in his mouth, a mock ring on his finger, and a very bloodshot eye, completed the picture. It seemed he was a subordinate electioneering agent, sent round to make stump speeches for his party, and, generally, to influence votes ; and the trouble with the captain evidently rose from his wishing to have his fare charged to the committee who sent him out, rather than pay it himself. The captain certainly gave him no quarter. ' He's a low, drunken watchmaker,' said he, turning to me ; I saw him last night spouting away for General Cass on the steps of the church at Huron. The fellow wants to get off without paying— I suppose we'll have to let him.' And he did. He got through to the journey's end. IJiiSLtS-^Ot-^Sx you, were pretty ;tting tired of his ;onic answer, and rencontre between r respectable man, », it appeared, had ley to pay his fare, unbleached linen e across the body, om straps of the hionable make, an of dirty-white shirt- 2en and lilac ribbon a mock ring on his impleted the picture, ilectioneering agent, ts for his party, and, the trouble with the hing to have his fare ; him out, rather than rtainly gave him no vatchmaker,' said he, ;ht spouting away for le church at Huron. at paying — I suppose lid. He got through 347 CHAPTER XXn. ^ journey to Ni.agara-River St Clair-Detroit-A slave's escape —An American steamer-Description of the Falls of Niagara —Fearful catastrophe. |HE country on the St Clair, though beauti- ful from the presence of the river, was, in itself, flat and tame enough. All Canada West, indeed, is remarkably level. The ridge of limestone hills which runs across from the State of New York at Niagara, and stretches to the north, is the only elevation greater than the round sweHs, which, in some parts, make the landscape look like a succession of broad black waves. The borders of the St Clair itself were higher than the land imme- diately behind them, so that a belt of swamp ran parallel with the stream, rich reaches of black soil rising behind it, through township after township. The list of natural sights in such a part was not great, though the charms of the few there were were unfad- ing. There was the river itself, and there was the vast leafy ocean of tree-tops, with the great aisles with in- numerable pillars stretching away underneath like some vast cathedral of nature; but these were common 348 Detroit. to all the country. The One Wonder of the and w at a distance. It was Niagara. How we longed o see Ui But it was some years before any of us could and there was no opportunity of g-"g /^ecthe^ I had to set out by myself. It was m te month o September, just before the leaves began to ^-n ^e weather was glorious-not too warm, and as br., as in Italy. I started in the little steamer for Uc rot pass ng the Indian settlement at Walpole Island th broad flats covered with coarse grass, towards the the broaa n threadmg the entrance of Lake bt Clair, anu. , lake ilself, through .he channel marked o aeros ^^ like telegraphs on each side ot a street, the London of all the folks on the nver. Ihey tougtt everything they wanted ^ere it bemg easy^^^ access and its size offering a larger choice than cQuld roblined elsewhere. It is a great andjow.^^^^ Place • though, in the lifetime of a person st 11 hvmg !LGei;eral Ca;s-it was only the ^^^:^ which it had been for a hundred years before. Takmg t s ler to Buffalo, which started in an hour or wo after I got to Detroit, I was once more on my way a Wternoon was drawing to a close. We w.e to c. at various British ports, so that I had a chance o ling different parts of the province that I had no vet V sited. The first step in our voyage was to cross r rdwich, the village on the Ca^^^^^^^^^ opposite Detroit, from which it xs less than a mde dis- A Slave's Escape. 349 ;r of the land was V we longed to see any of us could, joing together. I i in the month ot ;gan to turn. The 1, and as bright as ;eamer for Dctro'.t, t Walpole Island, ; grass, towards the last, threading the arked out across its long lines of poles, street. Detroit was n the river. They ere, it being easy of zx choice than could great and growing a person still living little French village ^ears before. Taking •ted in an hour or two ; more on my way as lose. We were to call [ I had a chance of jvince that I had not ir voyage was to cross the Canadian shore, is less than a mile dis- tant. I was glad to see a spot so sacred to liberty— for Sandwich is the great point 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 naturally 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, throwing 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 com pulled from the fields or on poultry he could catch round farm- A Slaves Escape. 350 houses or negro quarters ; sometimes eating them raw, lest the smoke of liis fire should discover hnn. 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 account of himself, they put him in jail as a " fugitive." But he gave a wrong name instead of his own, and a wrong State mstead of that from which he had come. He told them, m 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 advertis- ing him, to try to get some owner to claim h.m, and they let him off only when none appeared m the whole twelve months. This ordeal passed, he gradu- ally made his way to Detroit, and now, after runnmg such a terrible gauntlet, he had risen from a mere chattel to be a man ! ' Seeing the interest I took m the incident, he went on to tell me others equally exciting. One which I remember, was the rescue of a slave from some officers Avho had discovered hnn m 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 treatment of a fellow-man, a young Englishman, who had 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 all the other coloured r >^..j^u ^£A(aM^:&i4fc^''^ l^'. ^JH>i»..-;^ -«!:.'telLaBj i^--i.i.y wWM^^ "*'w I ^< , "-iiii UHi^^u«pii|ii I ijij ,IM ■!, «. i,i|ni;,fipim».V^'fi*^ f l^'-, #^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 11.25 ■A^IZS |2.5 ■S O '^^^ MI^H 1^ Kii 12.2 la ^ ,^ '1.4 il.6 6" // ^^ «' % *> '> Photographic Sciences Corporation v '^"^^ 23 WEST MAIN STREET VVi;»S?ER, N.Y. M5»0 (7i6) •72-4503 '9.^ ■.;^v:-.<^;j-.-*^*«, .*">*;.■ ■-*v»*Hif».'-' -.^.-^,-7 CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques /^ An American Steamer. ZS"^ 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 v.rharf, and leaped into a skiff which 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 ster.mer itself was very different from those with which I had bee-, familiar in England. Instead of cabins entirely below the deck, the body of the 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 main deck, wth 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 the engine-room in the centre, and reaching beyond the paddle-boxes, both the side and central structures being continued for some distance, to make places for 352 An American Steamer. the cook's galley, for a bar for selling spirits and 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 gildmg and white paint on the walls and ceiling, its paintmgs on panels at regular intervals all round, its showy furni- ture, 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 from 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 from stem to stern. Such vessels may do well enough for calm weather or for rivers, but they axe far from 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 had blown during the night while we were ashore, -^ ^>^ I .. ■jAV!C ||-.jrt ---^- ■' -- " -"-"'-«•■- An American Steamer. iS^ 3 and cigars, :what other upper deck and on this d with sofas, il of a huge ;h side open- en travellers. gilding and paintings on showy furni- rou could get ed, or, if you out on the n abundance re, seen from e, was liker a i very strange >ve the deck, lows, and its stern. Such Breather or for storm at any ches them so they are like )uld be in no (lis on coming jr as the wind J were ashore, we found when we started again next morning that the shallow water of that part of the lake was pretty rough, and our way leading us almost into the trough of the waves, the boat swayed so much to each side alternately that the captain got all the passengers gathered in a body, 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. I 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 generally unnecessary. At last we got safely into Chippewa Creek, and all chance of dan^^er had passed away. Long before reaching this haven of refuge, a white mist, steadily rising, and disappearing high in the air, had marked with unmistakable certainty our near ap- proach to the grand spectacle I had come to see. Never for a moment still, it had risen and sunk, grown broader and lighter, melted into one great cloud, or broken into waves of white vapour, from the time I had first seen it, and had made me restless till I was 23 \,a\ 354 "^h^ Falls of Niagara. safely on shore. The sensation was painful — a kind of instinct of danger, and an uneasiness till it was past. Having nothing to detain me, I determined to lose no time ih getting to the Falls themselves ; and therefore, leaviftg my portmanteau to be sent on after me, I set out for them on foot. There is a beautiful broad road to the spot, and it was in ex- cellent order, as the fall rains had not yet com- menced, so that I jogged on merrily, and r/as soon at my journey's end at Drummondville, the viUage near the Falls, on the Canada side, 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. *H ill — a kind till it was termined to selves; and )e sent on There is a was in ex- )t yet corn- was soon at vlUage near resolved to views of the ng this walk, pening in the I, in the very The awful abyss which, sence without icribable awe. not, were de- ls of tons of ig clouds of r, and behind, jling waves of of the stream eeing Niagara L this is one of depths has in f description. The Falls of Niagara. 355 You may be sure I did full justice to the oppor- tunities my visit aflforded me, and kept afoot, day after day, with praiseworthy diligence. My first walk to the Falls, from the village, brought me, through a break in a sandy bank, to a spot from which nothing 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 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, hasi 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 a hundred millions of tons of water, falling a depth of a hundred and fifty feet in the course of a single hour, while you stand by, may well give suoii a sound as overwhelms the listener's sense of hearing. It is 356 The Falls of Niagara. „o use attempting .0 picture .he seen. I.™ -c time before I could go near the edge, b» a. IM^ r„ my head was less diz.y, I wen. ou on the ;^ec.ing point called the Table Ro*, wh.ch h , however long since fallen into the abyss, »nd 'here, r»ere ledge from which all beneath had been ten :Zb*e spray, I could let the spectacle plallyfll my mind. You ca"- - N.»J» »' Jnce; it takes day after day to reate '^ "-»';'; , „a astonished at the slow unbroken fall of the \\„ So vast is the quantity hangmg m the a. Tany one moment, that it moves down m a grea r sheet with a slow, awful descent. The patches S^:rrd in spot: here and there showed how rlir^e -u?dtT->Picc-.He smooth ^trsrsir^^rsThr^edf e insrrwrfi^r^r-rifin:. had be n it was since washed away, and no efforts had been, Tlescending a spiral staircase close could recover it. Uescenaiub •>■ ^ The Falls of Niagara, 357 It was some but at last, out on the , which has, s, and there, ,th had been the spectacle :e Niagara at ; its vastness. ti fall of the ng in the air ivn in a great The patches e showed how ,ss. Think of thousand feet ; the smooth Lssy solidity of ■able clouds of \fet at the edge ire waded some rer. Indeed, I ck some feet, in of a poor man ; would be found im, within reach, But if it ever y, and no efforts ral staircase close to the Table Rock, I had another view from below ; and what words can convey the impression of tlie 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 1 had not nerve enough to do so, though several par- ties ventured in, after having put on oil-skin clothes ; 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 course, 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 l.he river, dividing the Horse-shoe Fall from the American, the trees on Goat Island dimly showed themselves tlirough 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 further 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 ray sight. A hill of fragments from its face lay heaped up in the centre, and more thinly scattered at the :f 358 The Falls of Niagara, farther side. But I could pay little attention to de- tails, 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 aibic feet of water falling ia 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, so wonder- fully calm that a ferry-boat plies between the Britisl^ I -^j:^tl.^..■^>■yJlU■c^. «jMli«-ia**l|*i The Falls of Niagara. m ition to de- ;w yards of water were dich, broken d raged, and could reach, ness of the I the centre, edges, where , broke into first descent, 1, was over- was with the [wusand six ar falling ia ly mind with God such as e. ican side, I :r having as- last, about a down to the ght me back ; of the Fall, reached this ken heaps of rhe river at •, so wonder- n the Britisl^ 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 sur- face was unbroken, and reflection showed that it must be safe, they soon resigned themselves to the charms of the view around. Forthwith, tlie 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 cliffs 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 surpassing 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 continent, 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 ascent at the American side was accomplished 360 The Falls of Niagara. 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 ui), by a cable passed round a windlass. I could not help shuddering at the constniuence of any accident that might occur, from so precarious an arrangement. Goat Island is one of the great attractions on this farther side, and is reached by a bridge which makes one half forget the wild less 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 Addington, 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, terrified, unfortunatly made a twist, and rolled out of his hands into the stream. MilM)MMMftMMM«4MM«M« The Falls of Niagara. 361 jost unique. , at a most of the tliff, lUge wooden jf ascent, a ; it up, by a Id not help iccident that arrangement, tions on this which makes cross which it land in which sities for sale, Falls for the I on by a path light to them, precipice, and Island, lay on ecting accident had visited it of the name of the party were dington, in his ane of the little ler over the edge ing to throw her rtunatly made a into the stream. Poor Addington, in a moment, with a loud cry of liorror, sprang in to save her, but both, aliu^3 vas once more )n the foaming name of some of the two men iring the centre int death. But ;e, to push into ister. On this, re the skiff, car- proof that the ;ould not have ; more launched ;he rapids, their , they succeeded n safety, though g their fate, they ipearance of the lade to an island middle of them, ler 6f the island, s you to reach it tween Chippewa he whole surface mg cascade, each nftness than the scene, and forms 1 it leads. Acci- , 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 managed to get money enough to purchase a bear and some other animals, which were duly launched, unpiloted, from the shore near Chippewa. From whatever 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 have 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. vMJMilliHi 364 CHAPTER XXIII. The suspension-bridge at Niagara-The whirlpool-The battle . of Lundy's Lane -Brock's monument -A soldier nearly drowned. aWO miles below the Falls an attraction presents itself now, that was not in exist- ence when I first visited them, though I have seen it often since ; the Great Sus- pension 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 measur- ing ten inches through, and containing 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 hundred feet, from the Cana- dian to the American shore. Two huge towers, rismg nearly ninety feet on the American 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 Whirlpool. 3^5 ,1— The battle soldier nearly n attraction not in exist- ;m, though I e Great Sus- li which the wire, twisted, rgest measur- g about four road twenty- inder one for , twenty-eight way trains, at over the deep om the Cana- towers, rising e, and nearly ibric, which is ito the ground s nevertheless the fact, that the airy and elegant thing thus hanging over the gulf is by 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 slow- est walk. It is open at the sides — that is, you can see up and down the river, and over into the awful abyss, but my head is not steady enough to stand looking into such a depth. How Blondin could pass over on 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 ; 366 The Whirlpool. though, to my notion, it needed the name to be written over it to enable one to know what i<- was, like the badly-painted sign, on which the artist informed the passer-by, in large 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 leisurely^ 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 years ago, tried to get over below the Falls to the American side on no better convey- ance 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 whiris, 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 him 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 scene of the Battle of Lundy's Lane, in' the war of ;o he written vas, like the nformed the se.' I dare for my taste :he chasm it ;ed, as if it J are stories r, that shows ttle distance. : over below 5tter convey- was stronger 11 his efforts, lorror, which md round in a time, they ling out, and each end of •equiring him ngly for more bring him to ; would surely Lch a training ; ly not induced »me voyage, tie back from orable as the in' the war of A Sad Mistake. 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 garden, in which a fine crop of Indian com 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 garcjen, 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 officers 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 fruit, hung over and amidst the graves, and sheep were nibbling the grass. 368 The Seneca Indians. 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 ^vlth a great number of holes made on the day by musket-balls ; a larger hole here and there, showing where a cannon had also sent its missile through it. I was surpnsed to see it inhabited with so many apertures unstopped out- side ; but perhaps it was plastered within. Every part of the Niagara frontier has, mdeed, its own story of war and death. On the way to Queens- ton I passed a gloomy chasm, into which the waters of a small stream, called the Bloody Run, h\ on their course to the river. It got its name from an incident in the old French war, very characterist:r, of the times and the countr3^ A detachment of British troops was marching up the banks of the Niagara with a convoy of waggons, and had reached this pomt, when a band of Seneca Indians, in the service of the French, leaped out from the woods immediately over the pre- cipice, and uttering from all sides their terrible war- whoop, rushed down, pouring in a deadly vol ey 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 to- gether, or realize their position. The httle stream was red with their blood, and out c^ the whole number only two escaped-the one a soldier, who, as by Brock's Momiment. 369 :ence of the uide led me, i wth a great isket-balls; a ;re a cannon 5 surprised to [istopped cut- is, indeed, its ay to Queens- ch the waters , fpM, on their m an incident f, of the times British troops [iagara with a lis point, when of the French, yr over the pre- ir terrible war- jadly volley as •y had, soldiers, J cliff into the o pieces on the moment; they themselves to- little stream was whole number ;r, who, as by miracle, got back, under cover of night, to Fort Ni- agara, at the edge of Lake Ontario ; the other a gentle- man, 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 181 2, 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 enthusiastic feeling of patriotism and of a 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. Leaning close by m? over the side of the vessel, he suddenly turned round from a deep musing, in which he had 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 24 )\ I F- 370 A Soldier nearly Drowned. ludicrous, not to speak of the uselessness of, all the 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 great stir was caused for a short time by a soldier of tlie Rifles having been tumbled into the water, and nearly dro^vned, through the stupidity of a poor Connaught- man 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 ooldier came, but just as he made a step on it the fellow who had his face to the shore, and saw no- thing except the crowd, gave it a pull, and down went the man into the water, cutting his chin badly in fall- ing. He evidently could not swim, and sank almost at once, but he came up to find ropes thrown out to him to cling to. But somehow he could not catch them, and he would, in another moment, have gone do\vn again. Luckily, however, some one had sense enough to thrust down a broad ladder, which was standing near, and up this he managed to climb, we holding the top steadily 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 d. A Colonel's Kindness, m is of. all the een no lakes mother. As which sUnds great stir was ,f the Rifles and nearly r Connaught- ' which those i started, were a breathless d hardly leave :rowdir,g out ; 1 at it, only to i run off. At de a step on it re, and saw no- ind down went in badly in fall- id sank almost i thrown out to ould not catch lent, have gone one had sense Ider, which was ;ed to climb, we iid so. Every i 1 dare say 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. tiliiiiiiii iMiii 37^ CHAPTER XXIV. ,. 1 1 Tl,,. exile's love of home— The coloured S-A nTow Jd-A .rumUer-New England en.i«.„t, _a potato-pit-The winter's woal. iHAT vast sheets of water the lakes of Canada are 1 Beginning, in the far north- west, with Superior, nearly as large as all Scotland, we have Michigan, Huron, Ene, and Ontario, in succession, each more like a sea than a lake On crossing them, you have no land m .ght any more than on the ocean ; and, like it. they have whole fleets on them, all through the season of naviga- tion They yield vast sums from their fisheries, and their waves wash shores as extensive as those of n.any kingdoms. It is striking how gigantic i. he proportion of everything in nature m the New World Vast lakes and rivers, the wonderful Niagara end- less forests, and boundless prairies-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 mtervals between any of them, and none between some. The Exiles Love of Home. 373 e— The coloured [ist — Home-spun iigland emigrants the lakes of 1 the far north- as large as all n, Huron, Erie, like a sea than land in sight ce it, they have eason of naviga- :ir fisheries, and ve as those of gigantic is the the New World, il Niagara, end- all these form a ture in Europe, etch over more ' short intervals between some. KS^55^^I -MSHT'/-^ 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 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 from ,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 every one be- ■MMMiiiijiil^ -V^rr.-'V*^ ' ; V"»*^-^'* 374 Loyalty of the Canadians. comes to his mother-country when he has left it. There has often seemed to me to be more real love of Hritain out of it tliau in it, as if it needed to be contemplated from a distance, in order thoroughly to appreciate all its claims upon our love and respect. In Canada almost every one is a busy local politician, deeply immersed in party squabbles and manceuvres, and often separated by them from his neighbour. But let the magic name of ' home ' be mentioned, and the remembrance of the once-familiar land causes every otlier 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 sufficiendy. And but yesterday, when rumours of war rose once s. lias left it. ore real love lecdcd to be T thoroughly and respect, cal politician, mancEUvres, is neighbour. e mentioned, ir land causes n the time of e out, it was talked wildly le rnoment it , the British- Canadians as ag, to defend hen it seemed f the war with jment, of her lid in fighting of the world, /ent over, they 1 their loyalty ince it seemed 1 an universal ; it sufficiently, war rose once T/tc Coloured People. 375 more, the whole people where 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 in Canada. In all the hotels, most of the wait'jrs, and a large proportion of the cooks, seemed to be coloured. They take to these employments naturally, and never appear to feel themselves in gieater glory than when fussing about the table at meals, or wield- ing the basting-ladle in the kitchen. They very seldom i. to trades, and even their children, as they grow up, are not much more inclined 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-con- ducted 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 ».^ 37<5 Hamilton. thing that there is a home open for them like Canada, wheie they can have the full enjoyment of liberty. Long may the red cross of St George wave an invita- tion to their persecuted race to come and find a refuge under its shadow ! I went home again by way of Hamilton, to which I crossed in a steamer. The white houses, peeping through the woods, were a pretty sight at the places where we stopped, the larger ones standing on all sides, detached, in iJie midst of pleasant grass and trees; the others, in the villages, built with an easy vaiiety of shape and size that could hardly be seen in an older country. The tin spires of churches rose, every here and there, biightly through the trees; reminding one that the faith of his dear native land had not been forgotten, but was cherished as fondly m 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 ramble over 'the mountain,' as they called the ridge behind it. The sight of streets built of stone, instead of wood, or brick, was posi- tively delightful, bringing one in mind of the stability of an older country. ' Have 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 Rice Lake when he was do\vn tliere lately. The lake lies a little north of Cobourg, MKdta ■tm m like Canada, lent of liberty, wave an invita- nd find a refuge nilton, to which houses, peeping It at the places standing on all asant grass and iltwith an easy hardly be seen res of churches ;ly through the f his dear native 'as cherished as it had been at if Canada West 's pleasure in a : ' the mountain,' le sight of streets brick, was posi- i of the stability ever seen any of ■ere back in his 1 different from said I had not. len he was down orth of Cobourg, Lake Rice. 37) 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 fbr some distance, and then you get on what the folks call ' the plains ' — great reaches of sandy soil, covered with low, scrubby oak bushes, 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 yju get nearer, there are charming 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 occur- red to :ne. He had noticed, like me, how the <»*■ nmmm VnVjNWumMatvi^ ■MauMiMiMia i«MI)M*M>MnMiMAHMilMii» 378 The' Maid of the Mist: 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 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 great 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 MistV 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 thus 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 Homespun Cloth. 379 ibourhood, ne of a cu- the minute iirection ;-*• rarping and le from the us sunrise I ck again to norning, the he of vapour ir, had been Dne Uke the J I had been river's edge, 1 been struck 3, waving far, ^f the MistV ;d of it ; how day, from the ing sometimes far above, in jcked into the ^e stood thus get her out of •ressed, and it their utmost, it their point. If chinery, woe to inched, in spite flSIr^'- 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 roads being still in their best condition, I had leisure to notice everything. The quantity of homespun gray woollen cloth, worn by the farmers and country people, was very much greater than I had seen it in 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 manufacture. 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 like the hum of the spinning-wheel amazingly, and have often waited to look at some tidy girl, walk- ing 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 yam when finished, and weaves it into the homely useful fabric I saw every where 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 dreadfully 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 :.>^..»>MliMiitliyii>>>v.i>. ■iAiii£iiUJKiid«UUi*«alMi KM 380 A Grumbling Scotchman. 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 situation, as two statesmen would the threatened collision of empires. They finally solved the difficulty by unyoking the horses from the waggon, and pushing it back over the logs with infinite trouble, after taking 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 Brant- ford, when we reached it, was broken down, having remained so since the 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 conversation, whether he would or not. He maintained there was nothmg in Canada like what he had seen in Scotland ; his wheat had been destroyed by the midge, year after year, or by the rust ; hi= potatoes, he avened, had never done well, and everything else had been alike miserable. An Irish Labourer. 381 (ras a great i went at a "ter a time, Ituation, as of empires, yroking the :k over the as much of passengers i^heels, and was clear, ;e at Brant- >wn, having irhen it had )gether, and is well as it 'ehicle itself stones at the very much m. A great ;lped to pass ierful power appeared to tion, whether as nothing in d ; his wheat after year, or i never done ke miserable. At last he seemed to have got through his lamentations, and his neighbour struck in—' Well, at any rate, Mr M'Craw, you can't say but your turnips are first-rate this year ; why one of them will fill a bucket when you cut it up for *he cattle.' But Mr M'Craw was not to be beaten, j... lad a ready answer. ' They're far owre guid— I'll never be fit to use them— the half o' them 'ill rot in the grund, if they dinn.a choke the puir kye wi' the size o' them.' The whole of us laughed, 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 IngersoU for a quarter (an English shilling)?' The driver pulled 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 wndow-frame, amidst our unlimited laughter ; then the body tried to follow, 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 mean time Pat had crushed himself through, in some way, and had landed in an extraordinary fashion, as gendy as he could, across our knees. We soon got 382 A Gentleman and his Dog. him into his seat, but it was long before we ceased laughing at the adventure. He 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 -isible 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 con- fer with each other from opposite sides of the door. At last, as we got near the town we came to a halt once more. The gentleman 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 same moment as his master's face, against which he came with a force which sent himself back to the ground and sorely dis- turbed 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 we ceased ever have misfortune m the way is the only the "isible travelling I, which he which the At every and beast 1 the other, lie dog was d only con- f the door, e to a halt jciety about ; his head right. But dog was in summoned igh the only ment as his nth a force 1 sorely dis- i lucky the have done y shock was he was hurt New England Emigrants. 385 at all, but the thought of blocking off the dog with his face, as you do a cricket bail with a bat, and the sublime astonishment of both dog and man at the colli- sion, 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 bed-room 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 verj' respectable-looking people — as nearly all New Eng- landers 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 full. It must have taken them a very long time to get so far at such 3 384 N^"^ England Emigrants. 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 accomplish 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 j 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 Wisconsm, and from that, has passed to other States or temtones 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 welcome 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 good while, telling them all I had seen and he^d. They ake a snail and they ite of their s, and the ould reach sh that was irellers told 1 every-day deed, I can , garden of it was not Wisconsin, )r territories ich given to , and much too poor to ave energy, which make ay choose to i of the New r any young jr the towns hey can best ery much in ivith all poor I find all my it for a good heard. They A Potato Pit. 385 VISIW- 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 boards, and the 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, we laid a floor of similar logs, close together, and on this 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 hoap 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 from the ladder end in a very short time, and young Grahame, one of a neighbour's boys, asked leave to go in first, and bring as MMKiM)'M!-<-> ■iiM^,'.j«H».f 386 The Winter's Wood, 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 agam We called to him but got no answer ; and at last 1 jumped down to find the poor little fellow overpowered from the effects of the carbonic acid gas, with which the pit was filled. v.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 puttmg 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 pnce 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 tdl 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 consdence at the way I used to dole out a fixed num- ber of pieces to my sisters, keeping it as small as possible, and much smaller than it should have beer. \ was willing enough to work at most thmgs, and Chopping Fireivood. s«y pulled open minute, but again. We d at last I overpowered I, with which der end had :ion, and the me perfectly J by putting ng; but the small hollow e young tree, I the top, to loss to us, as ice of a dollar , at that time, vas a tedious of it dragged : of long logs ; rawing till the !t off each day keep the fires ;1 a twinge of lut a fixed num- it as small as )uld have been, ost things, and can't blame myself for being lazy ; but to get up from the warm fire on a cold morning to chop firewood, was freezing work ; though this should certainly not have kept me from cutting a few more sticks, after 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. 388 CHAl'TER XXV. . Thoughts for the future-Ch.nges-Too-hard study-Kducntion in Canada-Christmas marlrings-Chant'es on the farm- Growth of Canada-The American climate-OUl England again. IHEN we had been five years on the farm, and Henry, and I, and the girls, were now eetting to be men and women, the ques- ^ tion of what we should do to get started in the world, became more and more pressirtg. llobert wished to get married ; Henry and I, and the two girls, all alike, wanted to be off; and the iarm was dearly unfit to support more than one household. I took a long time for us to come to any -o-^'^^^^,^' at last we decided that Robert should have the land, ,,at the girls should be sent for a time to a schoo down the country, and Henry and I should go to To- tTo, he to study medicine, and I law. Ofcou.. all this could not be managed at once, but it was greatly facilitated by remittances from my brothers m Ltod, .ho undertook by far the larger proportion of L ost I confess I felt moie sorrow at leaving the old place than I had expected, though it was still T 3y— Educntion isements — Ice- )n Ihe farm— -Old England on the farm, rls, were now en, the ques- :o get started )re pressing, nd I, and the , the I'arm was ousehold. It jndiision, but lave the land, le to a school luld go to To- t. Of course, ce, but it was my brothers in ger proportion TOW at leaving ugh it was still Too-hard Study. 389 for years to be my home •. hcncver I got free for a time; and it was long be. .ic I could get fairly into lilackstone, 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 ' am now, my l;iw 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-day details of business, though all must recog- nize the majesty 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 fo- my native land was thus unspeakably pleasing ; and it has rewarded the gratitude with which I once more reached it, by giving me back a good part of the strength I liad lost. When I look back on the years I spent over my books, and remember how I presumed on my youth, and tasked myself, night and day, to continuous 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 390 Too-hard Study. health I lost in acquiring it. Indeed, I question if I gained more, after all, by fagging on with a wearied body and mind, than I would, if I had taken proper relaxation and amusement, and returned fresh and vigor- rous to my books. The Genor e archers lost the battle 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 stu- dent life depends-let them be safely shielded betimes, and they will be fresh for action when others are re- laxed and useless. How much time is spent when the mind is wearied, without our being able to retain any- thing of what we read ! How often have I closed my 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 ngidly 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 Education in Canada, 391 , I question if I with a wearied id taken proper i fresh and vigor- irchers lost the r on their bow- led it by having the clouds were our management ir success in stu- shielded betimes, en others are re- is spent when the ble to retain any- have I closed my really, it might as read in the office, dance; had some leals ; kept rigidly economize every i a fresh candle at Ige, indeed, but at cheeks — a stoop —cold feet, I fear, ;hat I am seldom the pain it gives tr every day would :s, and would have quickened my powers of work so as more than to make up for their being indulged in a little play. Since my day, great facilities have been afforded m 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 and 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 of the people is much the same as in Britain. Hats and light overcoats are not entirely laid aside even in winter, t^ough fur caps and gauntlets, after all, are much more common. The ladies sweep along ♦ Thp University has been long established, but since I at- tended its classes, it has been put on a ..ore liberal basis— the number of chairs enlarged . d ■» ilities for obtaining its ad-, vantages greatly incre ;ac J. 39^ Christmas Markets. 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 of the air, which neither soils nor injures fine things, as the coal-dust and the dampness do in Engli '« 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 than they used to be in England. If the weather chanced to be cold, you would see huge files of frozen pigs standing on their four legs in front of the stalls, as if they 1 '1 bi .;i killed when at a gallop; countless sheep hunf . wer- 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 seem to be proud of them in proportion 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 frozen pork and mutton, the animals standing entire at the feet of their owners, who sat among them waiting for purchasers. Fiozen geese, ducks, chickens, nnd turkeys abounded, and that household was very poor indeed which had not one or other to grace the festival. they dressed :hey are, no and dryness 1 fine things, in Engli '« [ used to see nor-general. lly a greater led to be in je cold, you ding on their ley 1 '1 bi .;! p hunf .ver- ads caretuliy ition. Some some of the carcase of a il show. As taste, though n proportion :onfined to a the purpose. . at each side ;n pork and s feet of their r purchasers, ys abounded, :d which had Winter Amusements, 393 Winter was a great time for amusement to the townspeople, from the nearness of the broad bay which in summer forms their harbour, and, after the frost, their place of recreation. It was generally turned into a great sheet of ice across its whole breadth of two miles, some time about Christmas, and continued like rock till the mir'dle of April. As long as there were no heavy falls of snow to bury it, or after they had been blown off by the 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 night. School-boys made for it as soon as they got free ; the clerks and shopmen were down the instant the shutters were up and the doors fastened ; even ladies crowded to it, either to skate with the assistance of some gentlemen, 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 exciting. Scotchmen with their ' curling,' others with balls, battering them hither and thither, in desperate efforts to carry them to a par- ticular boundary. Then there were the ice-boats gliding along in every direction, with their loads of ^ • .;tldresseu people reclining on them, and their huge .ail .illing overhead. These contrivances were new f -..ic, though I had been so long in Canada. They »x isist of a three-cornered frame of wood, large I -/gh to give room for five or six people lying down or sitting on them, the upper side boarded over, and i ,iJ 394 The Ice-trade of Toronto. the lower shod on enrh angle with an iron runner. A mast and sail near the sharp point which goes fore- most furnish the means of propulsion. The two longest runners are fixed, but the short one at the back is worked by a helm, the steersman having ab- solute control of the machine by its aid, and keepmg within reach the cleats of the sail, that he may loosen or tighten it as he sees necessary. Many of the lads about were very .kilful in managing them, and would s-il as close to the wind, and ve^r and tack, as if they were in an ordinary boat in che water, instead of an oddly-shaped sleigh on ice. Avery little wind suf- ficed 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 iiave 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 square from the parts of the bay where it is clearest and best for use. These are lifted 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 froin the outer .■•iaiiii'wiflii»'"r'^i»"iit > If lyUiiiiiMMii '« ■unner. A gees fore- The two one at the having ab- nd keeping may loosen of the ladb , and would a, as if they stead of an e wind suf- the ice was :citement in rushed over g with great ionally they s — a rate of rable branch of men are great blocks \Q bay where ire lifted by :s, and taken them through :r. An ordi- nside with a rom the outer Spring Ice. 395 one, and the space betweea is filled with waste tan bark rammed close, to keep out the heat when it 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 round the con- tents — now broken into more 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 tlie 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 from 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 witli 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 Btr ii »*r v> v^dt m t\\. ■ 39^ Canadian Tee. steam, but ice may be made a great deal colder than it is when it first freezes. English ice is pretty cold, but it never gets far 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 similar size from the other, and where cold is wished to be pro- duced, as it is in all drinks in summer in hot xUmates, 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 veiy 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 "hmitJiimmtMtmim ■ if f li liitiiiri iintiTiilrtiHiTiifiitaiii colder than pretty cold, ;rees, which the other ia, in which lus there is given size, similar size to be pro- ot climates, .luable than ricans have ted a great I as that of luch as the r countries, You read of eak of their not got so It if Boston I or Madras, be able to luch colder, ted portable great many J from their stumps have been pulled Oil Springs. 397 out bodily as you would an old tooth, by a stump machine. It is a simple enough contrivance. A great screw is raised over the stump 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 screw 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 wilder- ness of stumpis in. each field. A singular 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 I 398 Oil Springs. whole soil around is saturated with it, and this, with the necessity of fording the water, has destroyed a great many valuable horses, which are found to get inflamed 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 vater, and that to such an amazing extent that, from some of them, hundreds of bi.- lels, 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 produce 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 stop-cocks in at the top, which enables them to control the flow as easily as they do that of water. If we think of the vast quan- tities of coal stored up in different parts, it will dimin- lis, with the red a great ;et inflamed oil causes, hbourhood, 1 well does t that, from irmed, have well, which vhich, if we tys spouted and some ; than two fortunately, 1 made for hat a great lie depth of surface, but ht hundred lake of oil )le. They ■f lining the inches in lathing, and at the top, as easily as ; vast quan- will dimin- Oil Springs. 399 ish our astonishment at 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 will 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 woithy of notice ; but, if we consider aright, what is wonderful in itself is no loss so because we have be- come accustomed to it. It is one great difference be- tween a rude and a cultivated mind, that the one has orJy a gaping wonder at passiiig events or discoveries, while the other seeks to find no^ city in what is already familiar. The one looks only at a result before him, the other tries to find out causes. The one only looka 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 further interest; the other discovers wonders in things the most com- mon, insignificant, or apparently worthless. Science got the beautiful metal — aluminium— out of the clay which ignorince trod under foot ; through Sir Hum phrey Dav^/ it got iodine out of the scrapings of soap-kett);;s which the soap-boilers had always thrown 4C0 Changes on the Farm. out, and it extracts the beautiful dyes we call Magenta and Solferino, from coal-tar which used to be a worth- less 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 bams 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 the 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, however, has not been made from the profits of the farm. A little money left by a relative to each 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 supplied him, locking all ■■■■■■■ Growth of Canada. 401 all Magenta be a worth- ; saw it, was of it. He and frame )g ones that commenced ould get — a n the river [ids cheaply, lis time be s some good her cover to h for winter, of the land all the time, e had. His place looked ;ss, however, he farm. A us gave him lall store on )ose. There n a customer ho happened ed the door, , 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 down. Henry established himself in a little village when he first got his degree, but was thought so much of by his profess- ors that he has been asked to take the chair of sur- gery, 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, however, the discovery of gold in California and Eraser's River has given a wider range to men's thoughts, and awakened an ambition in the settled 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 nothing like a little know- ad ■AA*MWMMiriMbdiMA«M 402 The American Climate, ledge for changing mere prejudice. There is of course a part of it which is irredeemably desolate, but the. immense reaches which will, certainly, some day, oe more highly valued than they are now. The nearly untouched line on the north of I^ke 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 -^n agricultural region. The Mackenzie River drains another part of the territory eight times as large as Englard and Wales together, and ''^e lower parts of it, at least, have a climate which mises comfort and plenty. It is no less tha- 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 farther 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 Newcasde the sdme temperature in winter as French settlers enjoy in Algiers. The musk, The American Climate, 403 9 of course It the. le day, oe riie nearly n has been Red River rhe River s from the , drains a e whole of lowing the e proofs of Mackenzie eight times r, and ''^e which 1 tha- s navigable 1 its mouth. I go on the le climate, ro hundred limate like of Canada, en the west i great as if perature in The musk oxen go more than four humlred miles farther north in summer, on the western, than they do on the eastern side, and the elk and moose-deer wander nearly six hundred miles farther north in the grass season, on the one than on the othei. 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- mois, 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 difference there is a 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, must 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 Uie 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 comparatively temperate, while, in the other, it would all be comparatively cold. In America it is likely that the great mountains that run north and h u 404 Old Englajtd again. south in three vast chains, beginning, in the west, with the Cascade Mountains, followed, at wide dis- tances, by the Rocky 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 the 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 Tvithin 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 expended by any one 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 enjoy- ment, 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 istiimisiittlttmtm J, in the west, i, at wide dis- g in their vast ', on the east of ivhich stretches, rom the north King William's the climate of , but it is very a point so little am back again now that I am t said anything use it did not iclude it in my jave seen these like home.' If as he ought, he jlorious country, le same amount as I have seen the bush, they ifort and enjoy- through life the Some people and the friends mhood, without Feelings towards England. 405 seeming to feel it, but I do not envy them their in- difference. I take no shame in confessing that I felt towards Engbnd, while away from it, what dear Oliver Goldsmith says so touchingly of his brother : — ' Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see. My heart, untravell'd, fondly turns to thee : Still to my country turns, with ceaseless pain, And drags at each remove a lengthening chain. THE END- JOHN CHILDS AND SON, PRINTERS. •mitmilmm iMi-aaHsf/K^it^at. »".TI*iMllliHiai1ili''iiiriilHi»IMfV. ..«# ri « ■ ■■ TTrn Si ii. I Mil. r i iT'-< , t0 »' VMiki-immM&.ss.km,:i!>mssmui ^, f^> ' ! > ■ ■■ ':■ .^ » . i; '■■