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fik

i i iuWlJWMWWfi ' WfWWWi

rilHlM

MMBiT' m

».,r

LIFE IN THE WOODS

A TRUE STORY OF THE
CANADIAN BUSH

Bv CUNNINGHAM GEIKIE. D.D. '^M

' My Native Lujd, Good-night !

■4

STBAHAN & CO.

56, LUDGATE HILL, LONDON

1873

^^"-^

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.

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

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 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

tl
k

g
b
t(
d
li
I
t
<

MaiMiiiiiii

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

-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-

% 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.

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.

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.

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 <M-r^

sailors who had made

rgs in sight when near
;iful they were. Only
shining in the sun with
give, and cascades of
■n their sides into the
ihaps from eighty to a
e sometimes even two
[it feet of ice below the
lis would make a two
an the third of a mile
rhey are formed on the
north, by the alternate
:dge of those ice-rivers
ret thrust out from the
by the sea, and cracked
unble into the waters, to
irrents may carry them,
ntock both saw them in
owth ; and I don't know
lan that of the ascent to
stream, on the shore of
former, and his looking
i south, over the vast,
ent of ice, which stretches
1 continuity over Green-
rry off from the shore a
gravel, which gets frozen

Porpoises a7id Sea-birds.

into them. Dr Scoresby says he has seen one of
them carrying, he should thin^v, from fifty to a hundred
thousand tons of rock on it. It has, no doubt, been
m this way that most of the great blocks and boulders
of stone, different from any in their neighbourhood,
which lie scattered over many parts of the world, have
been taken to their present places.*

I must not forget the porpoises— great pig-like fish,
which once or twice mocked us by racing alongside,
darting a-head every now and then like arrows, as if
to show us how slow we were in comparison — nor the
birds, which never left us the whole way, and must
sleep on the water when they do sleep — nor the beauti-
ful lights which shone in the sea at night. We used
to sit at the stern looking at them for long together.
The ridges of the waves would sometimes seem all on
fire, and streaks and spots of light would follow
the ship with every mome it's progress. Sometimes,
as the water rushed round the stem and up from
beneath, they would glitter like a shower of stars or
diamonds, joining presently in a sheet of flame. Now
they would look like balls of glowing metal; then,
presently, they would pass like ribbons of light.
There was no end to the combinations or changes of
beauty ; the very water joined to heighten them by its

• What is kno-TP as the 'boulder clay,' however, seems
rather to be the imraine of ancient glaciers— that is, the wrecK
of broken i:ocks torn away by tliem in their passage through the
valleys, and now left bare by their having melted away.

..aMitmmitimimii

Lights in the Sea.

f i

ceaseless mingling of colours, from the whitest foam,
through every shade of green, to the dark mass of the
ocean around. These appearances come from the
presence of myriads of creatures of all sizes, chiefly the
different kinds of Sea-nettles,* some of which are so
small as to need a microscope to show their parts,
while others form large masses, and shine like the
suns of these watery constellations. They are lumin-
ous by a phosphoric light they are able to secrete ;
their brilliancy being thus jf the same kind as that
which smokes and burns in the dark from the skin of
fish, and makes the lights in so many different insects.
The phosphorus used in manufactures is obtained
from burned bones. I have often seen a similar light
in the back woods on the old half-rotteu stumps of
trees which had been cut down. The glow-worm of
England and the fire-fly of Canada are familiar ex-
amples of the same wonderful power of self-illumin-
ation. Indeed, few countries are without some
species of insect possessing this characteristic. One
can't help thinking how universal life is when they see
it as it IS shown in these sights at sea— millions on
millions of shining creatures in the path of a single
ship ; and the happiness which life gives us in our
youth makes us admire the kindness of God, who, by
making everything so full of it, has crowded the air,
and earth, and waters with so much enjoyment.

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

:.^ ., .-^jl^^VJl-..', i ' »-,..i»„f, t«^

lie w'-iitest foam,
dark mass of the
come from the
I sizes, chiefly the
of which are so
show their parts,
I shine like the
They are lumin-
able to secrete ;
me kind as that
from the skin of
^ different insects,
ures is obtained
;en a similar light
r-rotteu stumps of
'he glow-worm of
I are familiar ex-
sr of self-illumin-
e without some
iracteristic. One
e is when they see
sea — millions on
e path of a single
e gives us in our
s of God, who, by
crowded the air,
enjoyment.

; so often see on our

Thick Ice-fogs. it

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

We were now in the great Gulf of St Lawrence,
which was called so because Cabot, who discovered
it, chanced to do so on the day set apart to that saint.
But we were some time in it before we saw land, and
there was more care taken about the position of the
ship than ever before, for fear we should, like so
many vessels, fall foul of the island of Anticosti, or
run on shore in a fog. We had had thick weather
occasionally from our approaching Newfoundland, and
it still prevailed now and then till we got near Quebec.
The icebergs coming down from the north, and the
different temperature of the air coming over them and
over the great frozen regions, cause these thick mists
by condensing the evaporation from the warmer sea
and preventing its rising into the air. We could
sometimes hardly see the length of the bowsprit before
us, and as the sun would be shut out for days
together, so that we could not find out our position, it
made every one anxious and half afraid. Many ships
are lost by being muffled in these thick clouds. They

. J 6 Sailing tip the River.

drive, at full speed, against icebergs or on sunken
rocks, or ashore on the wild coast, when they think
themselves safe in an open clear sea. I often won-
dered when crossing again, some years after, in a
great steamer, how we ever escaped. On we would
go in it, with the fog-bell ringing and horns blowmg,
to be sure, but in perfect blind ignorance of what lay
a few yards ahead. Other ships, icebergs, rocks, or
the iron shore, might be close at hand, yet on, on, up
and down went the great shafts, and beat, beat, went
the huge paddle-wheels— the ship trembling all over,
as if even it were half uneasy. It is a wonder, not
that so many, but that so few, ships should be lost,
covering the sea as they do at all seasons, like great
flocks of seafowl.

' After a time the land became visible at last, first
on one side and then on the other, and the pilot was
taken on board— a curious looking man to most of us,
in his extraordinary mufflings, and with his broken
French-English. As we sailed up the river the views
on the banks became very pleasing. The white
houses, with their high roofs, like those we see in
pictures of Fiench chateaux, and the churches roofed
with tin, and as white underneath as the others, and
the line of fields of every shade, from the brown earth
to the dark green wheat, and the curious zigzag wooden
fences, and the solemn woods, every here and there
coming out at the back of the picture, like great grim
sentinels of the land, made it impossible to stay away

■MMa

J3 or on sunken
, when they think
;a. I often won-
years after, in a
I. On we would
id horns blowing,
•ranee of what lay
icebergs, rocks, or
nd, yet on, on, up
d beat, beat, went
trembling all over,
is a wonder, not
)s should be lost,
seasons, like great

I'isible at last, first
r, and the pilot was

man to most of us,
d with his broken

the river the views
ising. The white
:e those we see in
the churches roofed
1 as the others, and
om the brown earth
irious zigzag wooden
very here and there
ture, like great grim
)ossible to stay away

Sailing 7ip the River.

from the deck. Then there were the grand sunsets,
with the water like glass, and the shores reflected in
them far down into their depths, and the curtains of
gold and crimsp- in the west, where the sun sank out
of sight, and light changing into crimson, and

violet and green, by turns, as the twilight faded into
night.

CHAPTER II.

Quebec-Wolfe-Montcalm'sskun-Toronlo-Wesetoffforthc
bush-Mud-roads-A rouyh ride-0«r log-house-How
ta, built-Our barn-We get oxen and cows-L ephant and
Buckeye-Unpacking our stores-What some of our ne.gh-
boars brought when they came-Hot days-Bush cos.un.es--
Sun-strokes-My sisters have to turn salamandcrs-Our part
of the house-work.

lUR landing at Quebec was only for a very
short time, till some freight was delivered,
our vessel having to go up to Montreal
■ before we left it. But we had stay

enough to let us climb the narrow streets of this the
oldest of Canadian cities, and to see some of its
sights The view from different points was unspeak-
ably grand to us after being so long pent up m a shtj.
Indeed, in itself, it is very fine. Cape Diamond and
he forlifications hanging high in the atr-tW great
basin below, like a sheet of the purest silver where a
'hundred sail of the line might nde - -f^^y-the
village spires and the fields of every s^ape. dotted
vith countless white cottages, the silver thread of the
River St Charles winding hither and thtther among
Lm. and. in the distance, shutting in this vaned

to— We set off for the
log-house— How it
cows— Elephant and
some of our neigh-
s-Bush costumes—
lamanders— Our part

as only for a very
ght was delivered,
;o up to Montreal
But we had stay
;treets of this, the
) see some of its
loints was unspeak-
; pent up in a ship.
;ape Diamond and
the air— the great
•est silver, where a
ide in safety— the
very shape, dotted
silver thread of the
and thither among
ting in this varied

Montcalm's Skull. . 19

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

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

Quebec is, as I have said, a beautiful place in sum-
mer, but it must be bad enough in winter. The snow
hes till well on in May, and it is so deep that, in the
country, everything but houses and trees and other high

:j>- • -^.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.

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

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.

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<l also to prevent the risk of any of them falling on
our establishment in a high winil. The house itself
had, in fact, been built of the logs procured by felling
these patriarchs of tlie forest, every one of which liad, as
usual on Canadian farms, been cut down. My brother
had left special instructions to spare some of the
smaller ones, but the ' chopper ' had understood him
exactly the wrong way, and had cut down those
pointed out with especial zeal as the objects of his
greatest dislike. Buildin;.: the house must have been
very heavy work, for it was made of great logs, the
whole thickness of the trees, piled one on another, a
story and a half high. The neighbours had made
what they call a • bee ' to help to ' raise ' it— that is,
they had coine without expecting wages, but with the
understanding that each would get back from us, when
he wanted it, as many days' labour as he had given.
They ronna^re a difficult business Uke that of getting up
the outside of a log-honse more easily than one would
think. First, the logs are cut into the proper lengths
for tlie sides and the ends ; then they are notched at
the end to make them keep together ; then au equal

) be our dwcUiug

old ideas about
Liilt a little ba'.k
um for a garden
ul the trees had
to some distance
ttle more cheery,
f them falling on

The house itself
rocured by felling
e of which had, as
own. My broUier
are some of the
1 understood him

cut down those
he objects of his
; must have been
of great logs, the
)ne on another, a
libours had made

raise' it— that is,
ages, but with the
jack from us, when

as he had given.
e that of getting up
iily than one would
;he proper lengths
ley are notched at
erj then au equal

Hoxo it was Built.

number are put at the four sides to be ready, and i,!ie
first sta|,'c is over. 'I'lie next step is to get four laid
in the i)roper positions on the ground, and then to get
up the rest, layer by layer, on llie top of eadi other,
till the whole are in their places. It is a terrible strain
on the men, for there is nothing but sheer strength to
help them, except that they put poles from the top of
the last log raised, to the ground, and then, with
handspokcs, force another uj) the slope to its destined
position. I have known many men terribly wrenched
by the handspokc of some other one slipping and
letting the whole weight of one end come upon the
person next him. The logs at the front and back
were all fully twenty feet long, and some of them
eighteen inches thick, so that you may judge their ,
weight. After the square frame had been thus piled \\\\ '
windows and a door where cut with axes, a board at
tlie sides of each keeping the enils of the logs in their
places. You may wonder how this could be done, but
backwoodsmen are so skilful with the axe that it was
done very neatly. The sashes for the windows and
the ijlanking for different i)arts of the house were got
from a saw-mill some distance off, across the river, and
my brother put in the glass. Of course there were a
great many chinks between the logs, but these were
filled up, as well ac possible, with billets and chips of
wood, the whole being finally coated and made air-
tight with mortar. 'I'hus the logs looked as if built up
with lime, the great black trunks of -the trees alternat-

imtj i i'jw i niw

lAfBaMMMK

r"-^

Oitr Los[-house.

ing with the grey belts between. The frame of the
roof was made of round poles, flattened un the top, on
which boards were put, and these again were covered
with shingles— a kind of wooden slate made of split
pine, which answers very well. 'I'he angles at the
ends were filled up with logs fitted to the length, and
fixed in their places by wooden pins driven through
the roof-pole at each corner. On the whole house
there were no nails used at all, except on the roof.
Wooden pins, and an auger to make holes, made every-
thing fast. Inside, it was an extraordinary place. The
floor was paved with pine slabs, the outer planks cut from
logs, with the round side down, and fixed by wooden
pins to sleepers made of thin young trees, cut the right
lengths. Overhead, a number of similar round poles,
about the thickness of a man's leg, supported the floor
of the upper story, which was to be my sisters' bed-
room. They had planks, however, instead of boards,
in honour of their sex, perhaps. They had to climb
to this paradise by an extraordinary ladder, made with
the never-failing axe and auger out of green, round
wood. I used always to think of Robinson Crusoe
getting into his fortification when I saw them going

up.

The chimney was a wonderful affair. It was large

enough to let you walk up most of the way, and could
hold, I can't tell how many logs, four or five feet long,
for a fire. It was built of mud, and when whitewashed
looked very well— at least we came to like it ; it was

■'"mm

:>.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.

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.

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

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

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.

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,

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

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

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 —

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

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.

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

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,

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.

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.

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

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!

■ ^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,

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<rni'"

r. . «

of the trees next
round, sometimes
letimes, the first
.1 be by the dcatl
:d feet, I should
, flaming out like
d in the extreme
i in the Windfall,
, running up the
id there on their
:ry near the path
J that, though the

set the fence on
I by the burning
vered the ground,
nd several broad
ground-fire might
effectual, and the
le fire among the
I it had burned up
in the forest on
out.

fairly disposed of,
rails put up round
lade, from the logs
)se, by one of the
;^of all, he sank his
len he put an iron
d made, and drove

Building a Snakc-fcncc.

it home with a mallet. Then, into the crack made by
the first wedge, he put a second, and that made it split
-so far down that only another was generally needed to
send it in two. The same process was gone through
with the halves, and then with the parts, until the
whole log lay spilt into pieces, varying in thickness
from that of a man's leg to as much again, as they were
wanted light or heavy. You must remember that they
were twelve feet long. To make them into a fence,
you laid a line of them down on the ground in a zigzag,
like a row of very broad V's, the end of the second
resting on that of the first, and so on, round the
corners, till you came to within the length of a rail from
where you started. The vacant space was to be the
entrance to the field. Then five or six more were laid,
one on another, all round, in the same way — or rather,
were put up in short, complete portions, till all were
in their places. The ends, at each side of the entrance,
were next lifted and laid on pins put between two
upright posts at each side. To make a gate, we had a
second set of posts, with pins close to the others, and
on these pins rails were laid which could be taken out
when wanted, and served very well foi- a gate, but we
boys almost always went over the fence rather than go
round it. To keep all the rails in their places we had to
put up what they called ' stakes ' at each angle — that is,
we had to take shorter rails, sharpened a little at the
end, and push one hard into the ground on each side
of the fence, at every overlapping of the ends of the

5S ' Shingle Pigs give us trouble.

rails, leaning them firmly against the top rail, so that they
crossed each other above. The last tiling was to lay a
light rail all round into the crosses thus made, so as to
' lock • them, and to make the whole so high that no
beast could get over it.

We used to laugh about what we were told of the
pigs and cattle and iiorses getting through and over
fences ; but we soon found out that it was no laughing
matter. The pigs were our first enemies, for, though
we had made the lowest four rails very close, as we
thought, to keep them out, we found we had not quite
succeeded. There were some of a horrible breed,
which they called the ' sliingle pig,' as thin as a slate,
with long snouts, long coarse bristles, long legs, and a
belly like a greyhound— creatures about as different
from an English pig as can be imagined. They could
run like a horse, nothing would fatten them, and they
could squeeze themselves sideways through an opening
where you would have thought they could never have
got in. If any hollow in the ground gave them tlie
chance of getting below the rails, they were sure to find
it out, and the first thing you would see, perhaps, would
be a great gaunt skeleton of a sow, with six or eight
little ones, rpoting away in the heart of your field. With
old fences they made short work, for if tliere were a
piece low and rickctty diey would fairly push it over
with their horrid long noses, and enter with a triumphant
grunt. Although they might have sp.nred o< tccln
and left our first little field alono i not, but

— ia<i

; trouble.

Dprail,soth.it tlu-y
tiling was to lay a
uis made, so as to
e so high that no

; were told of the
through and over
it was no laugiiing
icmies, for, though
i very close, as we
1 we had not quite
a horrible breed,
as thin as a slate,
:s, long legs, and a
about as different
^ined. They could
ten them, and they
through an opening
y could never have
ind gave them the
ey were sure to find
see, perhaps, would
w, with six or eight
of your field. Widi
fur if tliere were a
fairly push it over
er with a triumphant
spared oi ieeliii,
5, ^ »# not, but

' Shingle Pigs ' give us sofc trouble. 53

never rested snufHng round the fence, till they found
out a place or two l)elow it that had not been closely
enough staked, through wiiich tlicy scpieeycd them-
selves almost every day, until we found out wlu-re they
were and stopped them up. The brutes were so cun-
ning that they would never go in before you, but would
stand looking round the end of the fence with their
wicked eyes till you were gone. Robert thought at
first he could take revenge on them and whip them out
of such annoying habits, ami whenever the cry was
given that ' the pigs were in,' if he were within reach
he would rush for tiie wliip, and over the fence, to give
them the weight of it. Hut they were better at running
than he was, and though lie cut off the corners to try to
head them, I don't know that, in all the times he ran
himself out of breath, he ever did more than make
them wonder what his intention could be in giving
them such dreadful chases. We learned to be wiser
after a time, and by keeping down our ill nature and
driving them gently found they would make for the
place where they got in, and, by going out at it, discover
it to us. I only once saw a pig run down, and it
wasn't a ' shingle ' one. Neither Robert, nor any of
us — for we were all, by his orders, tearing after it in
different directions — could come near it ; but a man
we had at the time started off like an arrow in pursuit,
and very soon had it by the hind leg, lifting it by ^
which, the same instant, to poor piggy's great astonish-
uient, he sent it with a great heave over the fence,

54 ' Breachy ' Horses and Cattle.

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

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

and Cattle.

' Breachy Horses and Cattle. e,^

It was a small one, of
; done ii. A gentleman
e terribly annoyed by all
1, as he declared, getting
hich ran into the river,
itters by running it out a
not to be beaten, and
1 swim round his fancied
;hird length of rail before
ceded only by the speed
for them to stem.
' nuisance. Horses and
'ul trouble. A ' breachy '
one given to leap fences
to lead all the others in
kinds of mischief. The
d by the nautical powers
stracted by a black mare
jurhood, and led the way
lop of horses, which, but
nless enough. If a fence
t over ; or if firm, unless
.vould leap over it, gcner-
h in doing so to let the
to a fine field of Indian
im his house, and night
y got into bed, he would
ence into it, followed by
liad to get up and dress

himself, and then, after running about half an hour,
through dewy corn as high as his head, to get them
out again, he had to begin in the middle of the night
to rebuild his broken rampart. Only think of this, re-
peated night after night. I used to laugh at his nine
or ten feet high fence, which I had to climb every time
I went along the river-side to see him, but he always
put me off by saying — ' Ah, you haven't a black mare
down your way.' And I am happy to say we had not.
The cattle were no less accomplished in all forms of
field-breaking villany than the pigs and horses. We
had one brute of a cow, sometime after we came, that
used deliberately to hook off the rails with her horns,
xmtil they were low enough to let her get her forelegs
over, and then she leaned heavily on the rest until
they gave way before her, after which she would boldly
march in. She was an excellent milker, so that we did
all we could to cure her — sticking a board on her
horns, and hanging another over her eyes — but she hud
a decided taste for fen'-.e-breaking, and we had at last
to sentence her to death, and take our revenge by eat-
ing her up through the winter, after she had been fat-
tened. — -

5<5

CHAPTER IV.

We begin our preparations for sowing— Gadflies— Mosquitoes-
Harrowing experiences— A huge lly— Sandflies— Tlie poison
of insects and serpents— Winter wheat— The wonders of plant-
life_Our first ' sport ' — Woodpeclcers— ' Chitmunks '— Tiic
blue jay— The blue bird— The flight of birds.

[HEN we had got our piece of ground all
cleared, except the great ugly stumps,
and had got our fence up, our next job
was to get everything ready for sowing.
First of all the ashes had to be scattered, a process
that liberally dusted our clothes and faces. Then we
brought up the oxen and fastened them by their chain
to the sharp end of a three-cornered harrow, and with
this we had to scratch the soil, as if just to call its
attention to what we wished at its hand. It was the
most solemnly slow work I ever saw, to get over the
ground with our yoke — so'emn to all but the driver,
but to him the very reverse The shouting and yell
ing on his part never stopped, as he had to get them
round this stump and clear of that one. But, if you
looked only at the oxen you forgot the noise in watch-
ing whether they moved at all or not. Elephant would

Gadflies.

tdflics — Mosquitoes —
andflies— The poison
rhe wonders of plant-
— ' Chitmunks '— Tiic
lirds.

iece of ground all
reat ugly stumps,
; up, our next job
ready for sowing.
:attered, a process
1 faces. Then we
lem by their chain
:1 harrow, and with
. if just to call its
hand. It was the
Lw, to get over the
all but the driver,
shouting and yel!
e had to get them
t one. But, if you
the noise in watch-
)t. Elephant would

lift his great leg into the air and keep it motionless for
a time, as if he were thinking whether he should ever
set it down again, and, of course. Buckeye could not
get on faster than his mate. I tried the harrowing a
little, but I confess I didn't like it. We were perse-
cuted by the gadflies, which lighted on the poor oxen
and kept them in constant excitement, as, indeed, they
well might. Wherever they get a chance they pierce
the skin on the back with a sharp tube, which shuts
up and draws out like a telescope, at the end of their
bodies, protruding an egg through it into the creature
attacked, and this egg, when hatched, produces a grub
which makes a sore lump round it and lives in it, till
it has attained its full size, when it comes out, lets it-
self fall to the ground and burrows in it, reappearing
al"ter a time as a winged gadfly to torment other cattle. ■
Then there were the long tough roots running in every
direction round the stumps, and catching the teeth of
the harrow every little while, giving the necks of the
poor oxen uncommon jerks, and needing the harrow
to be lifted over them each time. There was another
trouble also, in the shape of the mosquitoes, which
worried driver and oxen alike. They are tiny crea-
tures, but they are nevertheless a great nuisance. In
the woods in summer, or near them, or, indeed, wher-
ever there is stagnant water, they are sure to sound
their 'airy trump.' The wonderful quickness of the
vibration of their wings makes a singing noise, which
proclaims at once the presence of even a single tor-

Mosquitoes.

mentor. They rise in clouds from every pool, and
even from the rain-water barrels kept near houses,
where they may be seen in myriads, in their first shape
after leaving the egg, as little black creatures with
large heads, and tails perpetually in motion, sculling
themselves with great speed hither and thither, but
always tail foremost. A single night is sufficient to
change them from this state, and send them out as
full-blown mosquitoes, so that even if there be not one
in your room on going to bed, you may have the plea-
sure of hearing several before morning, if you are in
the habit of indulging in the luxury of washing in rain-
water, or, worse still, to find your nose, and cheeks, or
hands, ornamented by itchy lumps, which show that
the enemy has been at you, after all, while you slept.
In Canada they are not half an inch long, and, until
distended with blood, are so thin as to be nearly in-
visible. Their instrument of torture is a delicate
sucker, sticking down from the head and looking very
like a glass thread, the end of it furnished with sharp
edges which cut the skin. I have sometimes let one
take its will of the back of my hand, just to watch it.
Down it comes, almost too light to be felt, then out
goes the lancet, its sheath serving for a support by
bending up on the surface of the skin in proportion as
the sucker sinks. A sharp prick and the little vampire
is drinking your blood. A minute, and his thin,
shrivelled body begins to get fuller, until, very soon,
he is three times the mosquito he was when he began,

Mosquitoes.

jm every pool, and

kept near houses,
s, in their first shape
lack creatures with

in motion, sculling
»er and thither, but
light is sufficient to
1 send them out as
1 if there be not one
1 may have the plea-
orning, if you are in
y of washing in rain-
nose, and cheeks, or
ps, which show that

all, while you slept,
inch long, and, until
1 as to be nearly in-
orture is a delicate
sad and looking very
furnished with sharp
/e sometimes let one
and, just to watch it.
t to be felt, then out
ng for a support by

skin in proportion as
and the little vampire
inute, and his thin,
Her, until, very soon,
; was when he began,

and is quite red with his surfeit shining through his
sides. But, though he is done you are not, for some
poisonous secretion is instilled into the puncture,
which causes pain, inflammation, and swelling, long
after he is gone. We had a little smooth-haired
terrier which seemed to please their taste almost as
much as we ourselves did. When it got into the
woods, they would settle on the poor brute, in spite
of all its efforts, till it was almost black with them.
Horses and oxen get no rest from their attacks, and
between them and the horse-flies I have seen the sides
of the poor things running vnth blood. * Dey say
ebery ting has some use,' said a negro to me one day ;
' I wonder what de mosqueeter's good for ? * So do I.
A clerg)'man who once visited us declared that he
thought they and all such pests were part of what is
meant in the Bible by the power of the devil ; but
whether he was right or not is beyond me to settle.
Perhaps they keep off fevers from animals by bleeding
them as they do. But you know what Socrates said,
that it was the highest attainment of wisdom to feel
tliat we know nothing, so that, even if we can't tell
why they are there, we may be sure, that, if we knew
as much as we might, we should find that they served
some wise purpose. At the same time I have often
been right glad to think that the little nuisances must
surely have short commons in the unsettled districts,
where there are no people nor cattle to torment.
The harrowing was also my first special introduction

A huge Fly.

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

The largest fly I ever saw lighted on the fence close
to me, about this time. We had been frightened by
stories of things as big as your thumb, that soused
down on you before you knew it, but I never, before
or since, saw such a giant of a fly as this fellow. It
was just like a house-fly magnified a great many times,
how many I should not like to say. I took to my
heels in a moment for fear of instant death, and saw
no more of it. Whether it would have bitten me or
not I cannot tell, but I was not at all inclined to try
the experiment.

All this time we have left the oxen pulling away at
the harrow, but we must leave them a minute or two
longer till we get done with all the flies at once. There
is a little black speck called the sand-fly, which many

Sand-Jlies.

reatures that tVsey
at every part, and
their proboscis is
y are as large as
e how much they
en them make a

from their bites,
ven off by the long

to tell the truth, I
n lest tliey should
ion in travelling to
ne other tree over
ect them as far as

1 on the fence close

been frightened by

humb, that soused

but I never, before

as this fellow. It

I great many times,

ay. I took to my

ant death, and saw

have bitten me or

all inclined to try

xen pulling away at
;m a minute or two
lies at once. There
.nd-fly, which many

think even worse than the mosquito. It comes in
clouds, and is too small to ward off, and its bite causes
acute pain for hours after. But, notwithstanding gad-
flies, mos(iuitoes, horse-flies, and this last pest, the
sand-fly, we were better off than the South American
Indians of whom Humboldt speaks, who have to hide
all night three or four inches deep in the sand to keep
themselves from mosquitoes as large as bluebottles ;
and our cattle had nothing to contend with like such
a fly as the tzetse, which, Dr Livingstone tells us, is
found in swarms on the South African rivers, a bite of
wliich is certain death to any horse or ox.

How curious it is, by the way, that any poison
sliould be so powerful that the quantity left by the
bite of a fly should be able to kill a great strong horse
or an ox ; and how very wonderful it is, moreover,
tliat the fly's body should secrete such a frightful
poison, and that it should carry it about in it without
itself suffering any harm ! Dr Buckland, of the Life
Guards, was once poisoned by some of the venom of
a cobra di capello, a kind of serpent, getting below
his nail, into a scratch he had given himself with a
knife he had used in skinning a rat, which the serpent
had killed. And yet the serpent itself could have
whole glands full of it, without getting any hurt. But
if the cobra were to bite its own body it would die at
once. The scorpion can and does sting itself to
death,

■\Vhen we had got our field harrowed over twice or

iS"

Winter Wheat.

thrice, till every part of it had been well scratched up,
and the ashes well mixed with the soil, our next step
was to sow it, after which came another harrowing,
and then we had only to wait till the harvest next July,
hoping we might be favoured with a good crop. That
a blade so slight as that of young wheat should be
able to stand the cold of the Canadian winter has
always seemed to me a great wonder. It grows up the
first year just like grass, and might be mistaken for it
even in the beginning of the following spring. The
snow which generally covers it during the long cold
season is a great protection to it, but it survives even
when it has been bare for long intervals together, though
never I believe, so strong, after such hardships suffered
in its infancy. The snow not only protects but, in its
melting, nourishes, the young plant, so that not to
have a good depth of it is a double evil. But, snow
or not snow, the soil is almost always frozen like a
rock, and yet the tender green blades live through it
all, unless some thaw during winter expose the roots,
and a subsequent frost seize them, in which case the
plant dies. Large patches in many fields are thus
destroyed in years when the snow is not deep enough.
What survives must have suspended its life while the
earth in which it grows is frozen. Yet, after being
thus asleep for months — indeed, more than asleep,
for every process of life must be stopped, the first
breath of spring brings back its vigour, and it wakes
as if it had been growing all the time. How wonder-

-^hhJL

The Wonders of Plant-life. (tT,

well scratched up,

soil, our next step

mother harrowing,

harvest next July,

good crop. That

wheat should be

nadian winter has

r. It grows up the

be mistaken for it

wing spring. The

ring the long cold

)ut it survives even

lis together, though

, hardships suffered

protects but, in its

It, so that not to

e evil. But, snow

(vays frozen like a

des live through it

■ expose the roots,

in which case the

ny fields are thus

5 not deep enough.

d its life while the

Yet, after being

more than asleep,

stopped, the first

gour, and it wakes

ne. How wonder-

ful are even the common facts of nature ! The life
of plants I liave always thought very much so. Our
life perishes if it be stopped for a very short time, but
the beautiful robe of flowers and verdure with which
tlie world is adorned is well nigh indestructible.
Most of you know the story of Pope's weeping willow :
the poet had received a present of a basket of figs
from the Levant, and when opening it, discovered
that part of tiie twigs of which it was made were
already budding, from some moisture that had
reached them, and this led him to plant one, which,
when it liad grown, became the stock whence all the
Babylonian willows in England have come. Then
we are told that seeds gatliered from beneath the
ashes at Pompeii, after being buried for eighteen hun-
dred years, have grown on being brought once more
to the light, and it has often been found that others
brought up from the bottom of wells, when they
were being dug, or from beneath accumulations of
sand, of unknown age, have only to be sown near the
surface to commence instantly to grow. It is said
that wheat found in the coffins of mummies in Egypt
lias sprung up freely when sown, but the proof of any
having done so is thought by others insufficient. Yet
there is nothing to make such a thing impossible, and
perhaps some future explorer like Dr Layard or Mr
Loftus, may come on grains older still, in Babylon or
Nineveh, and give Us bread from the wheat that
Nebuchadnezzar or Semiramis used to eat. Indeed,

Woodpeckers.

M. Michelct tells us tliat some seeds found in the in-
conceivably ancient Diluvial drift readily grew on
being sown.

During the busy weeks in which we were getting
our first field ready, we boys, though always out of
doors, were not always at work. Henry used to bring
out his gun widi him, to take a shot at anything he
could see, and though there were not very many
creatures round us, yet there were more when you
looked for tliem than you would otherwise have thought.
The woodpeckers were the strangest to us among them
all. They would come quite near us, running up and
down the trunks of the trees in every way, as flies run
over a window pane. 'I'here were three or four kinds :
one, the rarest, known by being parUy yellow ; another,
by the feathers on its back having a strange, hairy-like
look ; the third was a smaller bird, about six inches
long, but otherwise like its hairy relation ; the fourth,
and commonest, was the red-headed woodpecker.
This one gets its name from the beautiful crimson of
its head and neck, and the contrast of this bright
colour widi the black and white of its body and wings,
and with its black tail, makes it look very pretty.'
They would light on stumps or trees close to us, run-
ning round to the otlier side till we passed, if we came
very close, and then reappearing the next instant.
They kept up a constant tap, tap, tapping with their
heavy bills on the bark of any tree on which they
happened to alight, running up the trunk, and stopping

amimimm

Woodpeckers,

;ds found in the in-
t readily grew on

ch we were getting
jugli always out of
rlcnry used to bring
shot at anything he
:re not very many
ire more when you
erwise have thought,
it to us among them
us, running up and
'ery way, as flies run
three or four kinds :
rtly yellow ; another,
a strange, hairy-like
rd, about six inches
relation; the fourth,
leaded woodpecker,
beautiful crimson of
itrast of this bright
f its body and wings,
it look very pretty.'
rees close to us, run-
e passed, if we came
g the next instant,
p, tapping with their
tree on which they
e trank, and stopping

every minute with their tails resting on the bark to
supi)ort them, and hammering as if for the mere love
(if the noise. Every grub or insect they thus discov-
ered, was, in a moment, caught on their tongue, which
was thrust out for the purpose. Menry shot one of
them, after missing pretty often, for we were just be-
ginning shooting as well as everything else, and we
brought it to the house to let my sisters see it, and
to have another look at it ourselves. Being a bit of
an ornithologist, he pointed out to us how the toes
were four in number— two before and two behind—
and how they were spread out to give the creature as
firm a hold as possible of the surface on which it was
climbing, and how its tail was shaped like a wedge, and
the feathers very strong, to prop it up while at work.
Then there was the great heavy head and heavy bill,
with the long thin neck, putting me in mind of a
stone-breaker's hammer, with the thin handle and the
heavy top. But its tongue was, perhaps, the most
curious part of the whole. There were two long,
arched, tendon-like things, which reached from the
tongue round the skull, and passed quite over it
down to the root of the bill at the nostrils; and,
inside the wide circle thus made, a muscle, fixed at its
two ends, provided the means of thrusting out the
tongue with amazing swiftness and to a great length,
just as you may move forwards the top of a fishing-rod
in an instant by pulling the line which runs from the
tip to the reel. My brother Robert, who was of a

C/iiiiiiHiih.

religious disposition, couUl not help telling us, when
we had seen all this, liuit he UioukIu it just another
proof of the wontlerfid wisdom and t^oodness of God
to see how everything was adapted to its particular end.
One little creature used to give us a great deal of
amusement and pleasure. It was what Nisbet called
a thitmunk, the right name of it being the ground-
squirrel. It was a sciuirrel in every respect, except
that, instead of the great bushy tail turned up over the
back, it had a rounded hairy one, which was short and^
straight, and was only twitched up and down. Tlie
little things were to be seen every now and then
on any old log, that marked where a tree had fallen
long before. The moment we looked at them they
would stare at us with their great black eyes, and, if
we moved, they were into some hole in the log, or
over the back of it, and out of sight in an instant.
We all felt kindly disposed towards them, and never
tried to shoot them. I suppose they were looking for
nuts on the ground, as they feed largely on them, and
carry off a great many, as well as stores of other food,
in little cheek-pouches which they have, that they may
be provided for in winter. They do not make their
houses, like the other squirrels, in holes in the trees,
but dig burrows in the woods, under logs, or in hillocks
of earth, or at the roots of the trees, forming a wind-
ing passage down to it, and then making two or three
pantries, as I may call them, at the sides of their nest,
or sitting and sleeping-room, for their extra food. They

i?naw > 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^"*?

o^^^.

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.

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,'

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

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.

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.

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

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,

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,

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.

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

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

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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

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

'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.

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.

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

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.

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.

) 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^

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.

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

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.

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

^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,

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.

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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.

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

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 <fre started at z. good pace, but suA was
the" roughness of the road, up one wave of frozen
earth and snow, and do., another, that both of^us
were thoroughly sea-sick in a short time Each took
possession of a window, and getting the head m again
was out of the question till the sickness fairly spent
itself. Meanwhile, there was a large high wooden
box in the sleigh between us, and we had to keep a
hand a-piece on it, lest it should take us at un«s
and make a descent on our legs or backs. After a
time, the covered sleigh was exchanged ^r an open
one-a great heavy farmer's affair, a mere long box
upon runners. To ad^ to our troubles, they put a
great black horse, as one of the two- to draw us
which was so wild and fierce that I have always

», wliich was
at night, the
t was in the
eat-coats, but
:r the knees,
d them. AH
ere, while the
ggon bumped

The second

of the road
3 night— what
overed sleigh,
being seventy
it besides my-

but sucJh was
vave of frozen
hat both of us
,e. Each took
e head in again
less fairly spent
e high wooden
had to keep a
us at unawares,
backs. After a
ed for an open

mere long box
)les, they put a
;wo to draw us,

I have always

Sleighing.

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

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

136

Winter Mtifflings.

may see men chopping in the forest in terrib'iy cold
days, with their jackets off, the swinging of the arms
making them disagreeably hot in spite of the weather.
Sleighing is, moreover, the great winter amusement
of the Canadian, who seems never so pleased as when
driving fast in a ' cutter,' with the jingling bells on
the horse's neck making music as it goes. But, for
my part, 1 could never bear sitting with my face to
the wind, while I was dragged through it at the rate
of ten miles an hour, with the Ihermometer below
zero. All the mufflings you can put on won't protect
the cheeks or the eyes, and the hands get intolerably
cold holding the reins. Indeed, the precautions taken
by those who have much travelling about in winter
show that, to those less fully prepared, there milBt be
suffering as well as enjoyment. Our doctor's outfit
for his winter practice used to amuse me. He had,
first, a huge otter fur cap, with ears ; next, over his
great-coat, the skin of a buffalo made into a coat,
with the hairy side out, and reaching to his feet ; his
feet were cased in mocassins, which came over his
boots and tied round the ankles ; a pair of great hose
reached up his thighs ; his hands were muffled in
huge fur gauntlets reaching half-way to his elbow ;
and when he took his seat in his sleigh with all this
wrapping, he sat down on a buffalo-skin spread over
the seat, and stretching down over the bottom, while
another was tucked in over him, his feet resting on
the lower edge of it to keep out every breath of air ;

errib'iy cold
of the arms
the weather,
amusement
sed as when
ng bells on
:s. But, for
my face to
at the rate
neter below
on't protect
t intolerably
utions taken
It in winter
;re milBt be
ictor's outfit
e. He had,
xt, over his
into a coat,
his feet ; his
le over his
f great hose
muffled in
his elbow ;
ivith all this
spread over
ottom, while
t resting on
reath of air;

Accidents through Intense Cold. 137

and, in addition, he always had hot bricks put inside
on starting, and re-heated them every short while.
No wonder he used to say that he felt quite comfort-
able. He had clothes and furs enough on him for
Greenland. In spite of all this, however, I remember
his driving back, home, m great haste one day, with
his wife and child, and found that the face of the
infant had been partially frozen in a ride of four or
hve miles. Cases of death from the excessive cold
are not infrequent. A drunken man, falling on the
road, is certain to die if not speedily found. A poor
Indian was frozen to death on the river in this way
a short time after we came. But even the most
sober people are sometimes destroyed by the awful
intensity of the cold. I knew a young widow who
had lost her husband in this way. He had gone to
town in his sleigh, one Christmas, on business, and
was returning, when he felt very cold, and turned
aside to heat himself at a farm-house. Poor fellow !
he was already so frozen that he died shortly after
coming to the fire. This last winter, a farmer and
his daughter were driving in from the country to
Toronto, and, naturally enough, said little to each
other, not caring to expose dieir faces; but when
they had reached the city and should have alighted,
to her horror the daughter found that her father was
stone dead, frozen at her side by the way. At
Christmas there are a great many shooting-matches,
at which whoever kills most pigeons, let loose from a

138 Accidents through Intense Cold. •

trap, at a certain distance, wins a turkey. I was one
day riding past one of these, and noticed a group of
spectators standing round, but thought no more of it,
till, next morning, I learned' that, when the match was
done and the people dispersed, a boy was seen who
continued to stand still on the vacant ground, and, on
going up to him, it was found that he had been frozen
stiff", and was stone dead. A minister once told me
that he had been benighted on a lonely road in the
depth of the winter and could get on no further, and,
for a time, hardly knew what to do. At last he re-
solved to take out his horse, and, after tying its two
fore legs together, let it seek what it could for itself
till morning, while he himself commenced walking
round a gre^t tree that was near, and continued doing
so, without resting, till the next morning. Had he
sat down, he would have fallen asleep ; and if he had
slept, he would certainly have died. My brother
Henry, who, after a time, turned to the study of me-
dicine, and has risen to be a professor in one of the
colleges, took me one day to the hospital with him,
and, turning into one of the wards, walked up to the
bed of a young man. Lifting up the bottom of the
clothes, he told me to look ; and,— what a sight !
Both the feet had been frozen off" at the ancle,
and the red stumps were slowly healing. A poor
man called, once, begging, whose fingers were all
gone. He had walked 'some miles withput gloves,
and had known nothing about how to manage frozen

Zold.

r. I was one
id a group of

more of it,
he match was
ivas seen who
3und, and, on
d been frozen
ance told me
y road in the

1 further, and,
\t last he re-
• tying its two
ould for itself
meed walking
ntinued doing
ing. Had he
and if he had

My brother
; study of me-

in one of the
)ital with him,
Iked up to the
bottom of the
what a sight !

at the ancle,
ling. A poor
igers were all
vithout gloves,
manage frozen

Accidents through Intatse Cold.

^39

limbs ; his fingers had fro/en, had been neglected, and
had mortified, till at last such as did not drop off were
pulled out, he told me, with pincers, being utterly rotten
at the joints. I know a young man, a law student,
whose fingers are mere bone and skin : he was snow-
balling, and paid the penalty in the virtual destruction
of his hands. A curious case happened some years
ago, resulting in the recovery of two thousand pounds
of damages from the mail company. The stage from
Montreal, westwanl, broke through an air-hole on the
St Lawrence, when driving over the ice, and all the
passengers were immersed in the river, one of them
getting both his hands so frozen that he lost them
entirely. They were both taken off at the wrists.
The money was a poor consolation for such a ca-
lamity. I have known of a gentleman losing both
hands by taking off his fur gloves to get better con-
trol over a runaway horse. He got it stopped, but
his hands were lost in the doing it.

The ire of the river used to give us abundant room
for skating, where it was smootli enough. Near the
towns every one skates, even the ladies, of late years,
doing their best at it. But the ice, with us, was often
too rough for this graceful and healthy exercise, 30
that it was less practised than it otlierwise would have
been.

I40

CHAPTER VIII.

The aurora borcalis-' Jumpers '-Squaring' timber-Rafts-
Cam ing out-A public meeting-Winter fash.o„s-My toe
ir^l^-A long winler-s walk-Hospitality-Nearly lo.t tu
the woods.

SHE grandeur of the aurora borealis, in the
cold weather, particularly struck us. At
times the whole heavens would be irradi-

ated by it— shafts of light stretching from

every side\o the zenith, or clouds of brightness, of
the softest rose, shooting, from every pomt of the
horizon, high overhead. It was like the Hmdoo
legend of Indra's palace, which Southey describes so
beautifully:

« Even we on earth at intervals descry

Gleams of the glory, streaks of flowing light.
Openings of Heaven, and streams that flash at night

In fitful splendour, through the northern sky."

Curse o/Kehama, vii. 72.

The fondness of almost every one for sleigh-riding
was ludicrously shown in the contrivances invented
ia some cases to get 'the enjoyment of the luxury.
The richer settlers, of course, had very comfortable

' ytimpers^

141

timber— Rafts-
fashions— My toe
—Nearly lost in

borealis, in the
struck us. At
vould be irradi-
stretching from
if brightness, of
y point of the
ie the Hindoo
hey describes so

ig light,
,t flash at night
11 sky.'
•.hamat vii. 72.

: for sleigh-riding
ivances invented
It of the luxury,
krery comfortable

vehicles, with nice light runners, and abundance of
skins of various kinds, to adorn them, and make them
warm ; but every one was not so fortunate, and yet
all were determined that ride they would. ' Have
you anything to go in?' I have heard asked, once
and again, with the answer, ' No, but I guess we can
rig up a jumper pretty soon.' This ' jumper,' when
it made its appearance, if it were of the most prim-
itive type, consisted simply of two long poles, with
the bark on them, the one end to drag on the
ground, and the other to serve for shafts for the
horse; a cross-bar here and there behind, let into
them through auger-holes, serving to keep them
together. An old box, fixed on roughly above, served
for a body to the carriage ; and, then, off they went,
scraping along the snow in a wonderful way. Instead
of buffalo-robes, if they had none, a coloured bed-
quilt, wrapped round them, served to keep them warm.
An old wood-sleigh, with a box on it, was something
more aristocratic; but anything that would merely
hold them was made to pass muster. With plenty
of trees at hand, and an axe and auger, a backwoods-
man never thinks himself unprovided while the snow
continues. ;

It is in the winter that the great work of cutting
and squaring timber, in the forests, for export to
Europe, is done. Millions of acres, covered with
the noblest trees, invite the industry of the wealthier
merchants by the promise of liberal profit, along

1^2 Squaring Timber.

the whole edge of Canada, towards the north, from
the Ottawa to Lake Huron. What the .luantity
of timber this vast region contains must be, may
be estimated in some measure from the report of
the Crown Land Commissioner, a few years smcc,
which says that, in the Ottawa district alone, tiiere
is enough to answer every demand for the next six
hundred years, if they continue felling it at the
present rate. There is no fear, assuredly, of wood
running short in Canada for many a day. The rafts
brought down from Lake Huron alone are won-
derful-thousands on thousands of immense trees,
scpared so as to lie closely together, each long
enough, apixirently, to be a mast for a large vessel.
1 have looked over the wilderness of the forest from
two points— the one, the limestone ridge that runs
from Niagara northward— the other, from the top of
the sand-hills on the edge of Lake Huron-and no
words can tell the solemn grandeur of the prospect in
cither case. Far as the eye could reach there was
nothing to be seen but woods— woods— woods— a
great sea of verdure, with a billowy roll, as the trees
varied in height, or the lights and shadows played
on them. It is said that the open desert impresses
the traveller with a sense of its sublimity that is
almost overpowering— the awful loneliness, the vast,
naked, and apparendy boundless sweep of the hori-
zon on every side, relieved by no life or motion,
- or even variety of' outline, subduing all alike but

ds the north, from
Vhat the iiuantily
ins must be, may
rom the report of
a few years since,
li strict alone, tliere
id for the next six
felling it at the
assuredly, of wood
^ a day. The rafts
)n alone are won-

of immense trees,
ogether, each long
t for a large vessel.
s of the forest from
one ridge that runs
ler, from the top of
ike Huron — and no
iir of the prospect in
uld reach there was
— woods — woods — a
>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

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.

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 ,•■;;-.. ,

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";©

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.

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<e information that if
she lay close she could fin.-' room at the girl's back.
Not altogether relishing diis arrangement, she made

i6o

Arctic Winters.

t:'\

some excuse for returning 'to the "parlour," where
she sat for a time, only coming to her slcepmg-place
when she could not help it. But that she should
ever have hesitated in the matter seemed to all, alike,
unaccountable, and, our visitor assured us, had so
impressed their minds, that, a good while after, he
learned that they still talked of it, and spoke of her
pride as marking unusual depravity.

In later years I was happy to make the acquaint-
ance in one of the Canadian towns, of Captain
L who had commanded one of the expeditions

in search of Sir John Franklin, and, in many con-
versations with him, learned particulars of winter
life in the more northern part of the American con-
tinent, which, in comparison, make that of Canada
even inViting. To think of undressing, for eight
months of the year, in these fearful regions, is out of
the question. The dress, frozen stiff through the
day, is thawed into soaking wetness by the heat of a
snow-house at night, in which each sits as close to
his neighbour as is possible, with no light but that
of a miserable lamp, and imprisoned on every side
by the heaped-up blocks of snow. In Canada, we
can always get ourselves dried, whatever the weather ;
but there, all alike, when not on board ship, are
wet, month after month, each night through the
mnter. Happening one day to hear a boy whist-
ling the negro song, ' Old Uncle Ned,' the capti^in
stopped me with the question, ' Where do you think

parlour," where
:r skeping-place
:hat she should
ned to all, alike,
red us, had so
1 while after, he
nd spoke of her

.ke the acquaint-
,vns, of Captain
f the expeditions
id, in many con-
culars of winter
e American con-
that of Canada
essing, for eight
regions, is out of
stiff through the
; by the heat of a
1 sits as close to
no light but that
,ed on every side
, In Canada, we
tever the weather ;
board ship, are
light through the
dear a boy whist-
Ned,' the capti^in
'here do you think

Ruffed Grouse.

I first heard that song?' Of course I told him I
could not tell. ' It was on a terrible night, in Prince
Regent's Inlet, when we were crossing, it. The
snow was falling very heavily, and the storm roaring
through the hammocks, and I had called a halt
behind a great piece of ice which offered a shelter. I
thought we had better build a snow-house behind
it and take refuge for the night. The men squatted
down in this, I in their midst, all of us huddled
together as close as possible, and, to keep up their
spirits through the dismal hours, they began singing
one thing after another, and that among the rest.'
This was worse than the jncampments of surveyors
bad though they be.

There was not a great deal of sport to be had, if
>"' 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

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

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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 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

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.

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

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.

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-

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

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

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.

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

■ 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

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

MintiiH>i»<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

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.

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.

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 <or the
table when boiled. The ripe corn makes excellent
meal for cakes, &c., and is the best food for pigs or
poultry, while the stalks make excellent fodder for
cattle. The poor Indians grow a little corn when
tliey grow nothing else. You may see the long string*
of ears plaited t(.)gether by the tough wrappings round
each, and hung along poles round their wigwams to
dry for winter use. They have been in possession of
it no one can tell how long. When the May Flower
anchored, with the Pilgrim Fathers, at Plymouth Bay,
in Massachusetts, in 1620, they found hoards of it
buried for safety in the woods around, the Indians
having taken this plan to conceal it from them.

The size of the pumpkins is sometimes enonnous.
I have known them so large that one would fill a
wheelbarrow, and used often to think of a piece of
rhyme I learned when a boy, in which it was pointed
out what a mercy it was that they grew on the ground
rather than aloft, acorns being quite heavy enough
in windy weather.* They are used in great quantities

* Le Gland et Ja Citrouille : FiMa de La Fontaine, B. ix. 4.

220

Melons.

for ' pumpkin pie,' as the Canadians call it-i prepara-
tion of sweetened pumpkin spread over paste. They
use them in this way not oiJy while fresh, but cut a
great many into thin slices and dry them, that they
may have this dessert in winter as well as summer.
^I'hcy are excellent food for pigs and cattle when
broken into managerble pieces for them. I don't
think anything grew with us better than beets and
carrots, the latter especially. A farmer in our neigh-
bourhood, who was partial to their growth for the sake
of his horses and cattle beat us, however, in the
quantity raised on a given space, having actually
gathered at the rate of thirteen hundred bushels per
acre of carrots. We had a carrot show some years
after in the neighbouring township, at which this fact
was stated, and its accuracy fairly established by the
fact of others having gathered at the rate of as many
as eleven hundred bushels per acre. I remember the
meeting chiefly from the assertion of an Irishman pre-
sent, who would not allow that anything in Canada
could surpass its counterpart in his native island, and
maintained that these carrots were certainly very good,
but that they were nothing to one which was grown
near Cork, which was no less than eight feet nine
inches in length 1 • _

A variety of melons formed one of the novelties
we grew after the first season. We had nothing to
do but put them in the ground and keep them free
from weeds, when they began to ' run '—as they did,

Fruits.

aai

lians call it— i prepara-
2ad over paste. They
while fresh, but cut a
d dry them, that they
er as well as summer,
pigs and cattle when
;s for thein. I don't
better than beets and
A farmer in our neigh-
heir growth for tlie sake
It us, however, in the
space, having actually
m hundred bushels per
;arrot show some years
iship, at which this fact
"airly established by the
[ at the rate of as many
: acre. I remember the
tion of an Irishman pre-
liat anything in Canada
in his native island, and
were certainly very good,
o one which was grown
;ss than eight feet nine

:d one of the novelties
,n. We had nothing to
and and keep them free
ti to * run '—as they did,

far and near, over the ground. It was an easy way
to get a luxury, for some of them are very delicious,
and all are very refreshing in the sultry heat of
summer. They grow in every part of Canada in
great luxuriance, and without anything like a pre-
paration of the soil. Indeed, I once saw a great
fellow of an Indian planting some, which would
doubdess grow well enough, with his toes — pushing
aside earth enough to receive the seeds, and then,
with another motion of his foot, covering them up.
Cucumbers grew in surprising numbers from a very
small quantity of seed, and we had a castor-oil plant
and some plants of red pepper before our doors. We
had not very much time at first to attend to a vege-
table garden, and therefore contented ourselves with
a limited range of that kind of comforts, but it was
not the fault of the soil or climate, for in no place of
which I know do the various bounties of the garden
grow more freely than in Canada. Cabbages, cauli-
flower, brocoli, peas, l-rench beans, spinach, onions,
turnips, carrots, parsnips, radishes, lettuces, beet,
asparagus, celery, rhubarb, tomatoes, cucumbers, and
I know not what else, need only to be sown or
planted to yield a most bountiful return.

As to fruits, we had, for years, to buy all we used,
or to gather it in the woods, but it w.-^s very cheap
when bought, and easily procured when gathered.
Apples of a size and flavour almost peculiar to
America, pears, plums, cherries, raspberries, currants,

222

Fruits.

and strawberries grow everywhere in amazinj^ abund-
ance. Peaches of the sunniest beauty and most
deUcate flavoi\r are at times in some districts almost
as plentiful as potatoes ; but we never managed to
get any from our orchard, want of knowledge on our
part having spoiled our first trees, which we never
afterwards exchanged for others. But on the Niagara
River I have known them sell for a shilling a bushel,
and every labourer you met would be devouring
them by the half-dozen. A gentleman within ;:
miles of us took a fancy to cultivate grapes a„ jx-
tensively as he could in the open air, and succeeded
so well that he told me before I left that he had sold
a year's crop for about a hundred pounds. If we
had had as much shrewdness as we ought to have
had, we should have begun the culture of fruit
rather than of ntere farm produce, and I feel sure it
would have paid us far better. But people coming
fresh to a country take a long time to learn what is
best for them to do, and when they have learned,
have too often no sufficient means of turning to it,
or, perhaps, no leisure, while many, through disap-
pointed hopes, lose their spirit and energy.

The wild fruits we found to be as various as the
cultivated kinds, and some of them were very good.
The wild cherries were abundant in our bush, and
did excellently for preserves. Gooseberries, small,
with a rough prickly skin and of a poor flavour, were

Wild Flowers,

223

in amazinti abund-
beauty and most
ne districts almost
never managed to
knowledge on our
i, which we never
But on the Niagara
a shilling a bushel,
uld be devouring
;man within ;•
vate grapes a„ jx-
air, and succeeded
ft that he had sold
d pounds. If we
we ought to have
e culture of fruit
and I feel sure it
iut people coming
le to learn what is
they have learned,
s of turning to it,
ny, through disap-
energy.

: as various as the

n were very good.

in our bush, and

ooseberries, small,

poor flavour, were

often brought by the Indians to barter for pork or
flour. Raspberries and strawberries covered the open
places at the roadsides, and along the banks of
'creeks;' and whortleberries and blue berries, black
and red currants, juniper berries, plums, and hazel
nuts, were never far distant. We used to gather large
quantities ourselves, and the Indians were constantly
coming with pailfuls in the season. It is one of the
beneficent arrangements of Providence that, in 3
climate so exceedingly hot in summer, there should
be such a profusion of fruits and vegetables within
the reach of all, adding not only to comfort but dif-
fusing enjoyment, and exerting, also, a salutary influ-
ence upon h>,'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

•/;

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

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*.

/ '

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 In<lies, who were so fierce and joiverfui in tiie
days of Columbus and his successors, are :.ow ex-
tirict. It is much the same with the Red .Man of
America. 'J"he wliole continent was theirs from
north to south, and from east to west, but now they
are only to be found crowded into corners of our
diflcn-nt provinces, a poor and miserable remnant,
or as fugitives in remote prairies and forests, for they
have been nearly banished altogether from the settled
territories of the States. It is a curious fixct, also,
that this is not the first time widely-spread races of
their colour have been swept away from the same
vast surface. Remains of former populations, which
have perished before those who themselves are now
perishing, are to be found in many parts, as in the
huge burial mounds of Ohio, and the ruined cities of
Guatemala and Yucatan. Canada has no\v settle-
ments of Indians in various places, but they are,
altogether, few in number. One is on Manitoulin
Island, near the northern shore of Lake Huron,
where a clergyman of the Church of England, Mr
Peter Jacobs, himself an Indian, ministers as a
zealous and efficient missionary ; another, at the

re their perira-

corrupted the

em hopelessly

llollaiul arc

not, i)erhaps,

("aribs of the

; cvverfiii in the

, are :io\v ex-

; Red Man of

s theirs from

, but now they

corners of our

rable remnant,

orests, for they

rem the settled

ious fact, also,

ipread races of

from the same

ulations, which

ielves are now

arts, as in the

ruined cities of

is no\v setde-

but they are,

on Manitoulin

Lake Huron,

England, Mr

ninisters as a

nother, at the

Indian Decay as a Race. 233

Iliad of River St. Clair, stretches down the bank for
fuur or five miles, the picture of neglect and aversion
to work, in the midst of improvement at each side ;
one on Walpole Island, down the river, where the
missionary is one of tlie most earnest and laborious I
have had the i)leasure of knowing ; one on the banks
of the River Thames, mider the charge of the Mo-
ravian l)relliren— the wreck of tribes who left the
States in the war, last century — forming, with another
settlement on the Grand River, near Brantford, the
representatives of those who, in Lord Chatham's day,
brought down that great orator's terrible denuncia-
tion of the ' calling into civilized alliance the wild
and inhuman inhabitants of the woods, and dele-
gating to the tomahawk and the scalping-knife of
the merciless savage the rights of disputed property.'
There are some others to the north and east of
Toronto, but their numbers altogether an^ but the
shadow of what they were once. Old Courtenay,
speaking to me one day about those on the River St.
Clair, where he had lived from his childhood, shook
his head as a wandering, miserable family passed by
on their wretched ponies, and said, feelingly, 'Poor
things ! they'll soon follow the rest. I remember
when there were a hundred on the river for twenty
there are now. They all go at the lungs. Lying
out in the wet brings on the terrible cough, and
they're gone.' The Indian Agent for the west of the
province told me, however, when in England, lately,

234 Indian Decay as a Race.

that they were keeping up their numbers now ; but I
can hardly see how it is possible, if they do not take
more rare of themselves. The ver . mocassins they
wear for shoes are fit, in my opinion, to kill any one
— me-e coverings of deer leather, which soak up water
like blotting paper, and keep them as if perpetually
standing in a pool. Then they get spirits from the
storekeepers, in spite of every effort on the part of
Government to prevent it, and they often suffer such
privations for want of food as must tell fearfully on
their health. I have often watched them passing on
ponies or a-foot ; if the former, the squaws sitting
cross-legged on the bare backs, like men, with their
children round them, and guiding theii animals by a
rope halter ; the men carrying only a gun, if they were
rich enough to have one : and I have thought of the
contrast between their present state and the story of
their numbers and fierceness, as handed down in the
old French narratives of two hundred years ago ; how
they kept the French in perpetual fear, burning their
houses and even their towns ; how the woods swarmed,
in different parts, with their different independent
nations— the Hurons, the A'gonquins, the Iroquois,
the Ojibbeways— and how, in later years, they played
so terrible a part in the French and American wars
with Great Britain. , They seem like snow in summer,
when only a patch lies here aiid there, awaiting speedy
disappearance, of all that covered hill and valley in
its season. Some tribes, indeed, have passed away

■

Race.

Alleged Innoccfue of Savage Life. 235

numbers now ; but I
, if they do not take
fcren mocassins they
lioii, to kill any one
which soak up water
lem as if perpetually

get spirits from the
ffort on the part of
;hey often suffer such
nust tell fearfully on
hed them passing on
r, the squaws sitting

like men, with their
ng theii animals by a
ly a gun, if they were
: have thought of the
state and the story of
1 handed down in the
idred years ago ; how
ual fear, burning their
w the woods swarmed,
different independent
nquins, the Iroquois,
.ter years, they played
\ and American wars
I like snow in summer,
there, awaiting speedy
red hill and valley in
:d, have passed away

altogether since the first landing of Europeans on the
continent. Those at Nonantum, in Massachusetts,
for whom the great missionary, John Eliot, translated
tlie Bible two hundred years ago, are all gone, so that
tlie Book which once spoke to them of the world to
come, and a copy of which still survives in the museum
at Boston, now lies open without a living creature who
can read it. The Mandans, a great tribe in the
western prairies — the only tribe, indeed, of whom I
have heard, among the Indians of the present day, as
building regular fortified and pennanent villages and
towns, have been £ntirely swept off within the last
tliirty years by the small-pox, which was brought
among them by some poor trader.

It is a striking contradiction to what we sometimes
hear of the happy innocence of sav-age life that the
Indians, when they had all the country to themselves,
were continually at war with one another. The
Mohawks, who lived in the northern part of the
United States, seem especially to have been given to
strife, often leaving their own side of the great lakes
to make desolating inroads into Canada, until their
name became such a word of terro.- that the very
mention of it spread alarm in an encampment. Even
at this day, I have been assured that tc raise the cry
of ' the Mohawks are coming,' would strike a delirium
of panic through a whole settlement. They seem to
think they are still somewhere not far off, and may re-
appear at any moment But though the Mohawks

1^6

The Mohawks.

may have left so blood-stained a memory of themselves,
it may be safely said that there was hardlv one tribe
better than another. The pages of the old chroniclers
are red with the continual record of their universal
conflicts. At the same time, it is curious, as showing
how widely-spread the terrors of the Mohawk name
came to be, that the dissolute young men of Addison's
day, who were wont to find pleasure in acts of violence
and terror in the streets of London by night, called
themselves ' Mohocks.' The French appear to have
themselves been in part to blame for their sufferings
from the Indians, from the wars they excited between
rival nations, and the readiness with which they
furnished their allies with the means of destruction.
The passions thus kindled too often recoiled upon
themselves. Their traders had no scruples in supplying
to any extent the three great cravings of an Indian-
rum, tobacco, and scalping-knives— the first of which
led, in innumerable cases, to the too ready use of the
last. A scalping-knife, by the way, is an ugly weapon,
with a curved blade like an old-fashioned razor, but
sharp at the point, and was used to cut off the skin
from the top of a dead enemy's head, with the hair on
it, to preserve as a proof of their warlike exploits. The
number of scalps any warrior possessed being hailed as
the measure of his renown in his tribe, the desire for
them became as much a passion with an Indian, as the
wish for the Victoria Cross with a British soldier, and
raised an almost ungovernable excitement in their

A Narrow Escape.

"-n

ry of themselves,
hardlv one tribe

2 old chroniclers
f their universal
ious, as showing

Mohawk name
nen of Addison's
n acts of violence

by night, called
1 appear to have
)r their sufferings

excited between
vith which they

3 of destruction,
n recoiled upon
;ples in supplying
s of an Indian —
he first of which
) ready use of the
i an ugly weapon,
hioned razor, but

cut off the skin
, with the hair on
ike exploits. The
ed being hailed as
ibe, the desire for

1 an Indian, as die
ritish soldier, and
;itement in their

breasts when an opportunity for gratifying it offered
itself. A story is told of a British officer who was
travelling many years ago in America, with an Indian
for his guide, waking suddenly one morning and finding
him standing over him in a state of frenzy, his features
working in the conflict of oveq>owering 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

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

^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

* —

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 <lieeks, l)lack ; and the rest of
his face a lively red. Others had streaks of red,
black, and blue, drawn from the ears to the mouth,
Others were all black, except the top of the forehead,
and the parts round the ears, and the tip of the chin,
Two lads amused me by the pride they evidently took
in their faces ; that of the one being ornamented by a
stroke of vermilion, broad and bright, upwards and
downwards^ from each corner of the mouth, in a
slanting direction ; while that of the other rejoiced in
a broad streak of red and blue, straight across his
cheeks, from each side of his nose. The solemnities
consisted of speeches from their orators, which were
fluent enough, and' were accompanied with a great
deal of gesticulation, but were totally incomprehensible
to me. Then followed a dance, in which all the men
joined ; some women, sitting in the middle, beating a
rude drum with a bone, while the men formed in a
circle outside, and each commenced moving slowly
round, lifting his legs as high as possible, at the risk,
I thought, of throwing the dancer before him off his
balance, by some unhappy accident, which, however,
they were skilful enough to avoid. Meanwhile, the
orchestra kept up a monotonous thumping, accompa-
nied by a continuous grunting noise, which passed for
singing. There could be nothing more ludicrous
than to see them with all solemnity pacing round, each

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■m^M

Indian Loyalty.

261

with a leg in the air, as if they had been doing some-
thing awfully important. Dancing ended, the reward
of their labours followed. A huge kettle, hanging
from a stout pole, over a fire close by, proved to have
for its contents the carcase of a large dog — one of the
many who prowl round all wigwams — but it must
have been fattened for the occasion, as they are lean
enough generally. Hands and mouths were the only
inplements for the repast, but they served the purpose.
The poor dog made its way, with amazing rapidity,
down the crowd of hungry throats ; but the sight so
disgusted me that I hastily left them.

The Indians are very loyal in every part of British
America. A number of old men are still alive who
hold medals for their services in the war of 18 12-14
with the United States, and very proud they are
of them. I remember finding a deputation from
some tribe returning from a visit to the Governor-
General, on board one of the lake steamers, and was
struck with the great silver medal, almost like a
porter's badge, which the eldest wore on his breast,
with the well-known profile of King George III. on
it. By the way, one of the three or four Indians of
the party was the handsomest man of the race I ever
saw — tall, of full figure, with exquisite features, and
soft curling hair. He must surely have been
partly white. The dress they wore showed strikingly
the meeting of the old wildness and the new civiliza-
tion. That of the old bearer of the medal consisted of

262

Indian Loyalty.

a very broad-brimmed, high-crowned, and broad-
belted black hat— such a hat as I never saw except
among the Indians, and which must have been made
from a pattern specially designed to please them by
its extraordinary size ; a light brown shabby frock-
coat, with very short tails and large brass buttons :
a great white blanket thrown over it, and a pair of
ordinary trowsers, with mocassins on his feet, com-
pleting the costume. There was a great slit in his
ears for ornaments ; a string of wampum hung round
his neck, and in one hand lay a long Indian pipe,
while, from the other, the skin of a fox, made into a
tobacco-pouch, hung at his side. One of the others
had leggings instead of trousers, with broad bands
of beads at the knees to fasten them, and a bag
about the size of a lady's reticule, with a deep fringe
of gieen threads nine or ten inches long, all round
it, hung from his arm. I have no doubt that even
the feeble remnant of the race that still survives
would at once offer to fight for our Queen if their ser-
vices should ever unfortunately be needed. 'Their
great mother across the waters' is the object of as
much loyal pride to them as to any of her count-
less subjects. Some years ago a United States
officer was removing some Indians from the settled
parts to the other side of the Mississippi, and had
encamped one day, when he saw a party approach-
ing. Taking out his glass, he found that thej- were
Indians, and forthwith sent off an Indian from his

Religious Notions.

263

i, and broad-
ver saw except
lave been made
)lease them by
shabby frock-
brass buttons :
, and a pair of
\ his feet, com-
preat slit in his
xim hung round
ig Indian pipe,
ox, made into a
le of the others
bh broad bands
em, and a bag
th a deep fringe
long, all round
doubt that even
at still survives
ueen if their ser-
needed. ' Their
the object of as
y of her count-
i United States
from the settled
sissippi, and had
, party approach-
d that they were
I Indian from his

own band to meet them, with the stars and stripes
on a flag. No sooner was the republican banner
displayed than, to the astonishment of the officer, the
strange Indian unrolled the Red Cross of St George,
and held it up as that under which he ranged. The
American wanted him to exchange flags, but he
would not ; for, said he, ' I live near the Hudson
Bay Company, and they gave me this flag, and told
me that it came from my great mother across the
great waters, and would protect me and my wife and
children, wherever we might go. I have found it is
true as the white man said, and / will never part

with it.^

One of the most intelligent Indians I ever met was
a missionary among his countrymen in the Far West,
who happened to be on a steamer \^'ith me. He gave
me a great deal of information respecting the religious
notions of his people, one part of which I thought very
curious. He said that the Indians believed that, at
death, the spirits of men went 10 the west, and came
to a broad river, over which there was no bridge but
the trunks of trees laid endwise across. On the farther
side stretched prairies abounding with all kinds of
game, and every possible attraction to the Indian, to
reach which, every one, as he came, ventured on the
perilous path that oS'ered the means of getting over.
But the wicked could not, by any means, keep their
footing. The logs rolled about under them till they
slipped into the river, which bore them hopelessly away.

a64

Feast of the Dead.

►

The good Indian, on the contrary, found everything
easy. The logs lay perfectly still beneath his tread,
some kind influence kept him safely poised at each
treacherous step, and he landed safe and happy,
amidst loud welcomes, on the amber bark beyond.
The poor creatures seem to think that their friends
need many things after death to which they have been
used in life. Lonely graves may be often seen in the
woods, or, perhaps, they only seem lonely from the
others having sunk down, and in them, as in those
which are gathered together in the common burial-
places of the different reserves, beneath a little birch-
bark roof raised over them, the surviving friends put,
periodically, presents of rice, tobacco, and other
Indian delights. It used to be the habit in all parts of
Canada, as I have been told it still is in the distant
places of the Continent, to gather all the dead of a nation
together, from time to time, and bury them in a
common grave. Twelve years were allowed to pass,
and then the old men and the notables of the different
divisions of the tribe assembled and decided when
they would hold 'the feast,' for so they called it, so as
to please each section and the allied tribes as well.
This fixed, as all the corpses had to be brought to the
village where the common grave had been dug, each
family made arrangements respecting its dead, with a
care and affection which were very touching. If they
had parents dead in any part of the country, they

Feast of the Dead.

26$

nd everything
;ith his tread,
oised at each
! and happy,
bark beyond.

their friends
ley have been
:n seen in the
[lely from the
1, as in those
mmon burial-

a little birch-
ig friends put,
0, and other
: in all parts of
; in the distant
ead of a nation
ry them in a
owed to pass,
of the different
decided when
called it, so as
tribes as well,
brought to the
)een dug, each
ts dead, with a
hing. If they

country, they

spared no pains to bring their bodies ; they lifted
them from their graves, and bore them on their
shoulders covered with their best robes. On a given
day the peoph of each village went to their own
cemetery, where the persons who had charge of it — for
there were parties appointed to this ollice — raised the
bodies in presence of the survivors, who renewed the
grief they exhibited on the day of their first burial.
All the corpses were ranged side by side, and, being
uncovered, were exposed thus for a considerable time,
that all around might see what they would themselves
some day become. You may think what a sight this
must have been ; some of the bodies mere skeletons,
sonie like mummies, and others mere shapeless cor-
ruption. Those which were not reduced to skeletons
were, after a little, stripped of their flesh and skin,
which, with the robes in which they had been buried,
were burned. The bodies which were still uncorrupted
were merely wrapped in skins, but the bones, when
thoroughly cleaned, were put in sacks or in robes, and
lf,id on their shoulders, and then covered with another
skin outside. The perfect corps-s were put on a kind
of bier, and, with all the rest, were taken each to its
own wigwam, where the several households held, each,
a feast to its dead.

They have a curious idea respecting the soul, as the
reason of this strange custom— at least those of them
who, not being as yet Christians, still practise it They

266 Feast of the Dead.

think that the dead have two souls, distinct and
material, but each endowed with reason. The one
separates itself from the body at death, and hovers
over the burial-place till the Feast of the Dead, after
which it is turned into a turtle-dove, or goes straight
to the Land of Spirits. The other is, as it were,
attached to the body, and still remains in the common
grave, after the feast is over, never leaving it unless to
enter the body of an infant, which the likeness of many
of the living to those who have died seems to them a
proof that they do.

When the feast is over, all the dead of each village
are taken to a large wigwam, set apart for the purpose,
and filled with poles and rods, from which the perfect
bodies and the bags of bones are hung, along with
countless gifts which the relatives present, in the name
of the dead, to some of their living friends. This dis-
play of their riches accomplished, it remains only to
take the ghastly loads to the common grave on the day
appointed, which they do with frequent cues which
they say lighten the weight and secure the bearers
from disease. At die central rendezvous, the same
hanging of the corpses on poles, and the same display
of presents, is again made, and then, amidst terrible
cries and confusion, the whole are put into the general
burial-pit, which is lined underneath with sable furs, to
make the spirits happy in their homes in the other
world. But they do not bury the presents with them,

Christian Indians.

267

, distinct and
son. The one
th, and hovers
the Dead, after
or goes straight
is, as it were,
in the common
/ing it unless to
ikeness of many
;eems to them a

[ of each village
for the purpose,
irhich the perfect
lung, along with
lent, in the name
ends. This dis-
remains only to
grave on the day
lent ciies, which
cure the bearers
:zvous, the same
the same display
I, amidst terrible
t into the general
ivith sable furs, to
mes in the other
resents with them,

nor the outer skins in which they were wrapped;
these they retain for themselves. In some tribes, in
former times, a great mound or barrow heaped over
the spot marked the resting-place of the multitude,
in others the ground was simply levelled, and then,
after rejoicings in their own wild way till they were
tired, the living crowd dispersed, each party to its own
village.*

A great change has come over the customs and feel-
ings of many of the Indians, since missionaries went
among them, and though in old settlements you often
meet Pagans even yet, there are others who give the
best proofs that they are true Christians. It is delight-
ful to see them on the Sabbath, wending their way,
calm and in a right mind, to their lowly church, through
the glades of the forest ; and wild though the sound
often is, I have listened to their singing the glorious
praises of God with an interest I hardly ever felt in any
more civilizeoj," gathering. One of the hjTnns which
have been made expressly for them, and of which they
are especially fond, has always struck me asparticularly
touching, by its exact appreciation of an Indian's feel-
ings, and its remarkably skilful adaptation to their
broken English. I feel sure it has never appeared in
print before, at least in Britain, as I got it from a

• Nothing like this is done in Canada now, so far as I know ;
but in the ' Relations des Jesuites ' it is spoken of as the general
custom.

Indian Hymn.

168

missionary in Nova Scotia, who knew the author, him-
self a missionary, and told me it existed only m manu-
script so far as he knew. Here it is :

•THE INDIAN'S PRAYER.

' In de dark wood, no In<lian nigh,
Deii mc look licb'n, and send up cry,

Upon my knee so low ;
Dat G> 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

;

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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

■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» ' <in«^'v".VT"" ' '^

lies.

The serious con-
him in an instant
the cellar, where,
le a barrel of vine-
s, and drank down
IS thus saved, the
ili in the stomach ;
ith and throat were
itash, that the skin
fter day, in strips,
nplest preparations
I a branch of home
celled after a time,
ntity used was not
idle-moulds of tin,
candles, till we had
:m ; and then, what
ds at one end, and
ood at the other —
hat kept fair in the
which had in some
)f the tallow, leaving
mdisturbed by any
'e would not have
landler had we had
r lighted one at tea,
o bed, or to enable
for literary food set
were our more cus-

Rtide Accommodation.

tomary Style of illumination, its flaming brightness,
leaping and flaring though it was, sufficing for our
ordinary requirements. We used to sit for hours
round the fire, talking and dozing; to read was a
huge effort, after hard work all day, and it was too
cold, while the fire was kept up, to sit at any distance
from it. In some houses I have known candles kept
as sacredly for doing honour to a stranger as if they
had been made of silver. A rag in some grease, in a
saucer, usually served for a lamp, and an inch or two
of candle was only brought out when a guest was
about to retire. Many a time I have known even
visitors, in the rough bush, sent to bed in the dark.
We were, however, in some things, wonderfully before
the people settied back from the river. Most of them
were content to put up with the very rudest accommo-
dation and conveniences ; one room containing several
beds, often holding not only a whole household, but
any passing stranger. How to get out and in, unseen,
was the great difficulty. I have often been in trouble
about it myself, but it must surely have been worse for
the young women of the family. As to any basin or
ewer in the room, they were Capuan luxuries in the
wild bush. 'I'll thank you for a basin, Mrs Smith,'
said I, one morning, anxious to make myself comfort-
able for the day, after having enjoyed her husband's
hospitality over-night It was gloriously bright out-
side, though the sun had not yet shown himself over
the trees. »Comc this way, Mr Stanley; I'll give it

308

Writing Letters.

you here,' said Mrs Smith. Out she went, and lifted
a small round tin pie-dish, that would hardly hold
a quart, poured some water into it from the pail at
the door, which held the breakfast water as well,
and set it on the top of a stump, close at hand,
with the injunction to ' make haste, for there was a
hole' in the bottom, and if I didn't be quick the
water would all be gone.' Luchily, I was all ready j
but there was no offer of soap, and so I had to make
my hands fly hither and thither at a great rate, and
finish as best I could by a hard rubbing with a canvas

towel.

To write a letter in those days was by no means
a light task. Ink was a rare comn^odity, and stood a
great deal of water before it was done. When we had
none, a piece of Indian-ink served pretty well ; and
when that was lost, we used to mix gunpowder and
vinegar together, and make a kind of faintly-visible
pigment out of the two. The only paper we could get
was dreadful. How cruelly the pen used to dab
through it 1 How invincibly shabby a letter looked
on it ! The post-office was in a store kept by a French
Canadian, and was limited enough in its arrangements.
I remember taking a letter one day a little later than
was right, as it appeared. ' The mail's made up, Mr
Stanley,' said the post-master, 'and it's against the law
to open it when it's once sealed ; but I suppose I may
as well oblige a friend.' So saying, he took down a
piece of brown paper from the shelf behind him, cut

'ers.

t she went, and lifted
t would hardly hold
3 it from the pail at
ikfast water as well,
;ump, close at hand,
laste, for there was a
didn't be quick the
K.ily, I was all ready ;
ind so I had to make
r at a great rate, and
rubbing with a canvas

ays was by no means
jmn^odity, and stood a
done. When we had
rved pretty well ; and
3 mix gunpowder and
kind of faintly-visible
nly paper we could get
;he pen used to dab
;habby a letter looked
store kept by a French
igh in its arrangements.
: day a litde later than
he mail's made up, Mr
and it's against the law
i ; but I suppose I may
aying, he took down a
; shelf behind him, cut

Wew Occupations.

309

round some seals which were on the back of it, and ex-
posed the 'mail;' which, forsooth, I found consisted
of a single letter ! Mine was presently laid peacefully
at the side of this earlier sharer of postal honour, and
I hope did not make the bundle too heavy for the
mail-boy's saddle-bags.

It used to amuse us to see how readily every one
round us took to new occupations, if anything hindered
his continuing the one in which he had previously
been engaged. You would hear of a tailor turning
freshwater sailor, and buying a flat-bottomed scow, to
take* goods from one part of the river to another; one
shoemaker turned miller, and another took to making
and eelling 'lumber.' A young lad, the son of a
minister, who wished to get a gocd education, first
hired himself out to chop cord-wood, and when he had
made enough to buy books, and keep a reserve on
hand, he engaged with a minister over th*; river, who
had an ' academy,' to give him tuition, in retarn for
having his horse cleaned, and the house-wood split.
Working thus, he gained Latin and Greek enough to
go to college ; but had to return to his axe, and work
for another winter, to get money to pay the expenses
of the first session. This obtamed, off he set, and
ended by taking the degree of M.A. at Yale College,
Connecticut. In the mean time, however, a change
had passed over his mind as to becoming a clergy-
man ; and instead of seeking a church, he went into
partnership with his brother in the patent medicine

-A\

3 lo The Parson for Driver.

trade, in which calling, I suppose, he is now engaged
in one of the United States' cities,

I was once travelling on a winter night, in a public
stage, on the edge of Lake OnUrio. The vehicle was
a high waggon, with a linen cover stretched over a
round framework, like a gipsy tent. I was the only
passenger, and had taken my place in the body of the
machine. This did not suit the driver, however, who
seemed to feel lonely ; and, after a time, turning round
to me, he said-' I guess we'd be better together this
cold night. Come this way— won't you ? ' Of course,
I instantly complied ; and then received, among much
various information on matters interesting to coach-
drivers, a narrative of his own life, a portion of which I
still remember : —

' I'm a reg'lar preacher, you see,' said he. ' I was
on the circuit round Framley for one turn, and they
promised pretty fair, but I didn't get enough to keep
house on. Then I got changed to Dover circuit, and
that was worse. Says I to my wife— "Wife," says I,
" preachin' wont keep our pot bilin', anyhow— I must
scare up somethin' else, somehow." So I heard that
there was a new stage to be put on at Brownsville ;
and I went to Squire Brown, and told him that, if he
liked, I'd drive it ; and so, here I am— for, you see, the
mail stage has to go even if a parson should have to
drive it ; ' and he ended with a broad grin and a long
laugh — ha — ha — hal .^ .

Iriver,
he is now engaged

er night, in a public
0. The vehicle was
•er stretched over a
:nt. I was the only
;e in the body of the
driver, however, who
\ time, turning round
e better together this
I't you ? ' Of course,
iceivcd, among much
interesting to coach-
, a portion of which I

ce,' said he. ' I was
•r one turn, and they
t get enough to keep
to Dover circuit, and
wife— "Wife," says I,
ilin', anyhow— I must
IV." So I heard that
it on at Brownsville ;
d told him that, if he
[ am— for, you see, the
parson should have to
broad grin and a long

311

CHAPTER XIX.

Americanisms— Our poultry— The wasps— Their nests—' Bob't'
skill in killing them— Racoons— A hunt— Racoon cake— The
town of Busaco— Summer ' sailing '—Boy drowned— French
settlers.

E were struck, as every new comer is, by
the new meanings put by Canadians on
words, the new connexions in which they
used them, and the extraordinary way in
which some were pronounced. Of course, we heard
people ' guessing ' at every turn, and whatever any one
intended doing, he spoke of as ' fixing.' You would
hear a man say, that his waggon, or his chimney, or
his gun, must be ' fixed ; ' a girl would be ready to
take a walk with you, as soon as she had ' fixed herself;'
and the baby was always * fixed ' in the morning, when
washed and dressed for the day. ' Catherine,' said a
husband one day to his wife, in my hearing, pronounc-
ing the last syllable of her name so as to rhyme with
line, ' I calculate that them apples 'ill want regulatin','
referring to some that were drying in the sun. They
•reckon' at every third sentence. A well-informed
man is said to be ' well posted up' in some particular

312

Amcncanisins,

sul)ject. Instead of ' what,' tlicy very commonly gov
' how,' in asking questions. A pony was praised to
as being ' as fat as mud.' In place of our exclamatioub
of surprise at the communication of any new fact, the
hstener will exclaim, * I want to know.' Any log, or
trunk of a tree, or other single piece of timber, is m-
variably a ' stick,' even if it be long enough for a mast.
All the stock of a timber-yard is alike ' lumber.' An
ewer is ' a pitcher ; ' a tin-pail is ' a kettle ;' a servant
is ' a help ; ' an employer is ' a boss ; ' a church pew is
' a slip ; ' a platform at a meeting is ' a stage ; ' children
are ' juveniles ; ' and a baby is ' a babe.' In pronouncing
the words engine, or ride, or point, or any other word
with vowels prominent in it, if you would imitate a
Canadian, you would need to open your mouth vei
wide, and make as much of each sound as you '
Of course, I speak only of the country folks, ni
born J the town people, and the educated classes,
generally speak as correctly as the same classes in Eng-
land. We cannot help noticing, moreover, that all
these corruptions are trifling compared with those
which we find in the popular dialects of different parts
of our own country. You can travel all through Canada
and understand everything you hear, except a word now
and then ; but at home, to pass from one shire to an-
other is often like passing to a diflfevent people, so far
as regards the language. The great amount of travel-
ling now-a-days compared with the fixed life of our
forefathers, may serve to account for this. People of

Oitr Poullyy,

3^Z

jct<f commonly snv
y was praised to
of our exclamations
)f any new fact, the
now.' Any log, or
ce of timbci, is in-
; enough for a mast,
alike ' lumber.' An
a kettle;' a servant
IS ; ' a church pew is
5 ' a stage ; ' children
be.' In pronouncing
t, or any other word
fon would imitate a
:n your mouth vei
I sound as you '
country folks, m
e educated classes,
same classes in Eng-
, moreover, that all
)mpared with those
;cts of different parts
el all through Canada
ir, except a word now
from one shire to an-
ffevent people, so far
eat amount of travel-
the fixed life of our
for this. People of

every nation meet in Canada, and all come to speak
very nearly alike, because they move about so much ;
but the various races that settled in England or Scot-
land ages ago kept together closely, and conse(iuently
each learned to speak in a way of its own.

Our poultry increased very soon after our com-
mencing on the river, until it became (juite a ffock ;
but we had a gootl deal of trouble with them. The
weasels were very destructive to the chickens, and so
were the hen-hawks and chicken-hawks, which were
always prowling round. But the hens managed to
beat oli the last of these enemies, and a terrible noise
they made in doing so. The whole barn-yard popula-
tion used to give Robert great annoyance, by flying
over the fence he had put up round a piece of ground
set apart as a garden j but he succeeded in terrifying
them at last, by rushing out with a long whip when-
ever they made their appearance. The very sight of
him was enough, after a time, to send them off" with
outstretched wings and necks, and the most amazing
screeches and cackling ; it was laughable to see their
consternation and precipitate flight. Our turkeys were
a nuisance as well as a comfort to us : they were much
given to wandering, and so stupid withal, that if they
once got into the woods we rarely saw them again.
The only plan was to have their wings cut close, and
to keep them shut up in the barn-yard. In compensa-
tion for this trouble, however, we took ample revenge
both on them and the cocks and hens, alike in person

314 Large Qiiatitities of Eggs.

and in the harvest of eggs, which formed a main
element in most of our dishes. We needed all we
cculd get. As to eggs, it seemed as if any quantity
-;» ould have been consumed. There was to be a ' bee '
one time, to raise a second bam ; and my sisters were
in great concern because they could not find out
where the hens were laying. At last, they saw one go
down a hole in the barn floor, and instantly concluded
they had discovered the secret hoard. A plank was
forthwith lifted, and there, sure enough, were no less
than twenty dozen of eggs lying in one part or other.
It was hard work to get them out, but Henry and I
helped, and we brought them all to the house. In a
week or ten dayb there were not two dozen left. The
men who had attended the 'bee,' and one or two
whom we kept on at wages, had devoured them all in
cakes and puddings, or in the ordinary way. But
what would these bush-fellows not get down? One
day, we had a labourer with us, and Eliza, to please
him, set out a large glass dish of preserves, holding,
certainly, a pound weight at the least. She thought, of
course, he would take a little to his bread ; bu^ his
notions on the subject were very different, for, drawing
the dish to him, and taking up a tablespoon, he supped
down the whole in a succession of huge mouthfuls.
I have known a hired man eat a dozen of eggs at his
breakfast 1

The wasps were very numerous round the house
in summer. A nest of these creatures ensconced

Hes of Eggs.

i, which formed a main
hes. We needed all we
eemed as if any quantity

There was to be a ' bee '
)am ; and my sisters were
they could not find out

At last, they saw one go
r, and instantly concluded
:ret hoard. A plank was
ure enough, were no less
ying in one part or other,
em out, but Henry and I
a all to the house. In a

not two dozen left. The
e 'bee,' and one or two
had devoured them all in

the ordinary way. But
3ws not get down? One
h us, and Eliza, to please
dish of preserves, holding,

the least. She thought, of
ttle to his bread ; bu^ his

very different, for, drawing
up a tablespoon, he supped
ession of huge mouthfuls.
eat a dozen of eggs at his

umerous round the house
these creatures ensconced

Wasps.

Z'^S

themselves in a hole between two logs, in the front
part of it, and, as they never troubled us, we did
not trouble them. But not so our little terrier. Bob.
The mouth of the nest was about a yard from the
ground, and admitted only one at a time. Below
this, Bob would take his seat for hours together,
watching each arrival ; sometimes letting them go in
peaceably, but every now and then jumping rp at
them, with his lips drawn back, and giving a snap
which seldom failed to kill them. The little fellow
seemed to have quite a passion for wasp-hunting.
The dead proofs of his success would often lie thick
over the ground by evening. How the colony ever
bore up against his attacks I cannot imagine. One
day we saw John Robinson, a labourer, whom we had
engaged, rushing down in hot haste from the top of
the field flinging his arms about in every direction,
and making the most extraordinary bobbing and
fighting, apparently at nothing. But, as he got near,
he roared out, 'I've tumbled a wasps'-nest, and
they're after me,' and this was all we could get out of
him for some time. Indeed they followed him quite
a distance. He had been lifting a log that was im*
bedded in the ground, >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,

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-

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,

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

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-

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.

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

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

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

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

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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

\,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.

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

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^

-^j:^tl.^..■^>■yJlU■c^.

«jMli«-ia**l|*i

The Falls of Niagara.

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<jst before the
others at their side knew that anything of so fearful a
kind had hajjpened, were swept into the abyss
beneath. Beyond Goat Island, u singularly daring
structure has enabled visitors to cross to some scatter-
ed masses of rock on the very brink of the Great Fall.
A tower has been erected on them, and a slight bridge,
which is always wet with the spray, has beon stretcheti
across to it. From this point the whole extent of ine
Falls is before you. It was an awful sight to look,
down on the rushing terrors at my feet. I felt conf i: d,
overw'^elmed, and almost stunned. Once ifter, on
aiiOih^L visit, I c'.ambered out to it over the mounds of
ice in winter, but I hardly know that the impressi<jn
was deeper then.

There are accidents every now and then at Niagara,
but it is only wonderful that, amidst such dangers,
there are no more. The truth is that, here, as well as
elsewhere, familiarity breeds contempt. Thus, in 1854,
a man ventured, with his son, to cross the rapids above
the Falls, in a skiff, to save some property which hap-
pened to be on a flat-bottomed ' scow,' which had
broken from its moorings, and stuck fast at some
distance above Goat Island. The two shot out into
the broken water, and were carried with terrible swift-
ness down towards the 'scow,' into which the son
sprang as they shot past- lastening the skiff to it as he
did so. Having taken off the goods they wished to

2fi%

The Falls of Niagara.

save, the skiff, with both on board, was once more
pushed off, and flew hke an arrow on the foaming
water, towards the Th'ree Sisters— the name of some
rocks above Goat Island. The fate of the two men
seemed to be sealed, for they were nearing the centre
Fall, and, to go over it, would be instant death. But
they managed, when on its very verge, to push into
an eddy, and reached the second Sister. On this,
they landed, and having dragged ashore the skiff, car-
ried it to the foot of the island, a proof that the
'property' they wished to rescue could not have
weighed very much. There, they once more launched
it, and making a bold sweep down the rapids, their
oars going with their utmost strength, they succeeded
in reaching the shore of Goat Island in safety, though
it seems to me as if, after thus tempting their fate, they
hardly deserved to do so.

I was very much struck by the appearance of the
rapids above the Falls, on a visit I made to an island
some distance up the river, in the very middle of them.
A fine broad bridge, built by the owner 6f the island,
and of the neighbouring shore, enables you to reach it
with ease. It lies about half-way between Chippewa
and the Falls, on the British side. The whole surface
of the great stream is broken into a long cascade, each
leap of which is made with more swiftness than the
one before. It is a wild tumultuous scene, and forms
a fit prelude to the spectacle to which it leads. Acci-
dents occasionally happen here also. Just before I

■a.

The Falls of Niagara.

?>^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

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

A Colonel's Kindness,

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

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

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

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

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 marl<cts-Wintcr am«scment.-ke.
boats-Very cold ice-Oil-8i>rings-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

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

,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

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

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.

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