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A T U K

/ J^io i '\

TO THK

%fm-

RIVER SAGUENAY,

L W E 11 CAN A D A .

CHARLES LANMAN,

AUTHOR OF "a SUMMER m THE WILDKUNESS.'

PIMLADELPHIA:
CAREY AND HART.

1848.

Entered according to tlio Act of Congress, in the year 1847, by
CAREY AND HAPxT,

in the Clerk"s OlTice of the District Court for the Eastern District of

Pennsylvania.

riiiLADELPiriA:

T. K. Ai\D P. G. COLLINS, rKIiVTERS.

SOLOMON T. NICOLL, ESQ.,

OF XEw ToiiK ( rrv.

My Dear Sir,

To you, in testimony of my friendship, T inscribe this
little volume.

On a pleasant morning in May last, I a\voke from a
piscatorial dream, haunted by the idea that I ?m(sf spend
a portion of the approaching summer in the indulgence
of my passion for angling. Relinquishing my editorial
labors for a time, I performed a pilgrimage wliich has
resulted in the production of this volume, and I hope it
may entertain those of my friends and the public who
have heretofore received my literary efforts with favor.
The work will be found to contain a record of adventures
in the valleys of tlie Hudson, St. Lawrence and St. Johns,
and along some of the rivers of New England.

Truly, your friend, ^

CHARLES LANAL^N.

New Y(»nK, Autumn of 1S47.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

The Catskill IMountains— South Peak Mountain— A thunder storm—
lAIichiight on the mountains — Sunrise — Plautcrkill Clove — Peter
Hummel— Trout fi.-<lung— Stony Clove— The Kautcrskill Fall— The
Mountain House— The MounUiin Lake - - - 17

CHAPTER n.

A spring day— The sky— The mountains— The streams— The M-oods—
The oi)en fields— Domestic animals— Poetry— The poultry yard 36

CHAPTER HI.

The Corn Planting Bee

CHAPTER IV.

Lake Horicon— Sketches of its scenery— Information for anglers— Sab-
bath Day Point— War memories— The insect city— Death of a deer-
Rogers' Slide— Diamond Island— The snake charmer- Snake stories
—Night on Horicon " • - - • 50

CHAPTER V.

The Scaroon country— Scaroon Lake— Pike fishing by torchlight— Trout
fishing— Lyndsay's Tavern— Paradox Lake . - 63

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER VI.

The Arlirondac Mountains— Trent, fi>hin- in tlio Boreas River— A night
in the Av(.. His— Moose Lnke-Lake Delia— The Nowconib Farm—
INIom.t TaliaM-us- The Lnliau Pa.--.-Lalces fSanfonl an.l Henderson
— TJie IMcIntyru iron works . . . . nQ

CHAPTER Vn.

John Cheney, the Adirondac hunter— Some of his exploits

CHAPTER VHI.

Burlington— Lake Chamijlain— Distinguished men -

i
4

CHAPTER IX.

Stage eoach-The Winooski-The Green lAIountains-The ruined dwell-
ing—The White Mountains-The Flume-A deep pool-The Old
Mim of the Mountains-The ]^Kisin-Franeonia Notch- View of the
mountains— Mount Washington— The Notch Valley - 103

CHAPTER X.

IMontrcal

115

CHAPTER XL

Quebec

120

CHAPTER XIL

A sail down the St. Lawrence— Sword-fish chasing a whale

125

CHAPTER XIIL

The Saguonay River— Storm picture—The Hudson's Bay Company-
Eminent merchant— The IMountauieer Lidians— Tadousac— Ruin of
a Jesuit establishment - - . . . ■. oi

CONTENTS.

vii

CHAT Ti: II XIV.
The salmon— Several adventures

CHAl'TER XV

Seal hunting on the St. Luwrence—Tli.; wl

lite porpoi.se

151

CHAPTER XVI.

The Esquimaux Indians of Labrador

156

CHAPTER XVII.

The Habitans of Canada

IGO

chapti:r XVIII.

The Grand Portage into Nevv Brunswick -Lake Tuniscouta-
Madawaska River

CHAPTER XIX.

The Acadians

■The
1G5

170

CHAPTER XX.

Sail down the Madawa^ka— The Falls of the St. John

CHAPTER XXL

The Hermit of Aroostook

174

173

CHAPTER XXIL

The River St. John

193

CHAPTER XXIIL

The Penobscot River

197

VIU

CONTENTS.

CHAPTKR XXIV.

Moosehea.l Lake and the Kenncbeck River -

201

A fishing party on

CHAPTER XXV.

the Thames— Watch Hill-Night adventures 210

CHAPTER XXVI.
A week in a fishinf? smack-Fishermen-A beautiful morning at scji-
A day at Nantuckct-Wreck of a ship-Night on the ^ound-Satc

arrival

A TOUR

TO' THE

KIVER SAGUE^AY.

C H A P T I : R I .

ri.>r.,.killMnnn,ain._S„n,l. P.ak Mo„ntnin-A ,lun.,i.M- <,onn_
^I'lnmht on tl... .nun„mi„s-S,uni..-I>h,,t.rkiIl ("l„v,.- ['.r.-r
lI.nnMi.l-rr„Mt lishi>.;.-N,ony Cl-.v. - Tl,. Kaut.T.kili Fall-Tlu-
Mnuntaiu IIuu.<u — Tiio .Moimtaiti Lalcc.

Phwtcrkill Clove, May.
I COMMENCE this cluiptcr in the Inna^a^e of Leather Stock-
1"?:-" You know the Catskills, I:mI, for vou must li.ve seen
them on your left, as you followed the river up from York
look.ncr as hlue as a piece of clear sky, and holdin.r the clouds
on their tops, as the smoke curls over the head of an Indian
chiel at a council-lire." Yes, everybody is acquaints with
the names ot these mountains, but iesv with their peculiari-
ties of scenery. They are situated about eiirht miles from
the Hudson, rise to an average elevation of about thirty-iive
hundred leet, and running in a straight line from north to
south, cover a space of some twenty-five miles. The fertile
valley on the east is as beautiful as heart could desire ; it is-
watered by the Kauterskill, Plauterkill and Esopus creek'^-

A TOIR TO THE RIVER SAOUENAY.

inlinbitf'd by a sturdy Diitrli yeomanry, and is tlie agricultural
nioil'cr oi" ('atskill, Sau<Tortics and Kinjiston. 'J'iio u|)land on
tli(3 west for al)out forty miles is ruirtred, dreary and thinly set-
tled, hut tlic \vindin<r valley of Schoharie beyond is possessed
oi" many charms peculiarly American. The mountains them-
selves are covered with dense forests aboundinir in dill's and
wateiTalls, and for the most part untrodden by the footsteps
of man. liookin*: at them from the Hudson, the eye is at-
tr;.v't( (1 hy two deep hollows, which are called "Cloves."
'J'iie one nearest to the Mountain House, Kauterskill Clove,
is (lisiihjfuished for a remarkable fall, which lias been made
fairiiliar lo the world by the pen of iJryant and the pencil of
Cole; but this (Jlove is raj)i(lly fdlini^ up with human habita-
tions ; while the other, Plauterkill Clove, thouL''h yet possess-
ing much of its orijjinal glory, is certain of the same destiny.
The irorjje whence issues the Esopus, is among the Shanda-
ken mountains, and not visible from the Hudson.

My nominal residence, at the present time, is at the moutli
of JMauterkill Clove. To the west, and only half a mile
from my abode, are the beautiful mountains, whose outlines
fade away to the north, like the waves of the sea when
coveretl with a visible atmosphere. The nearest, and to me
the most beloved of these, is called South l^eak. It is nearly
four thousand feet high, and covered from base to summit
with one vast forest of trees, varying from eighty to an hun-
drt^l feet in height. Like its brethren, U is a wild and unculti-
vated wilderness, abounding in all the interesting features of
mountain scenery. Like a corner-stone, does it stand at the
junctiMii ol" the northern and western ranges of the Catskills ;
and as its huge form looms against the evening sky, it inspires
one Mith awe, as ii' it were the ruler of the world: — yet I
Jiave learned to love it as a friend. 1 have pondered upon
its impressive features when reposing in the noontide sun-
shine, when enveloped in clouds, when holding communion

SOITII PEAK. HUNTER S HOLE.

with the most holy nit^ht, and whoii trrmhlinji under the in-
lliH'iUM^ of :i thunder-storm and enririded hy a rainl)0\v. It
has 1i11<m1 my soul with imaijes of heauty and suhliniity, and
made ine feel tlie omnipotenee of God.

A day and a niirht was it lately my priviletre to spend
upon this mountain, aeeompanied hy a poet friend. We
started at an early hour, equipped in our hrown fustians, and
laden with, well-filled knapsaeks — one with a hatchet in his
belt, and the other with a hraee of pistols. We were hound
to the extreme summit of the peak, where we intended to
spend the niuht, \vitness the risiuff of tlie sun, and return at
our leisure on the following day. Ikit when I tell my read-
ers that our course lay right up the almost per{)endicular side
of the mountain, where there was no path save that ibrmed
hy a torrent or a hear, they will readily believe it was some-
what rare and romantic. IJut this \vas what we deli";hted
in ; so we shouted "excelsior!" and commenced the ascent.
'J'he air was excessively sultry, and the very first eHort we
made caused the perspiration to start most profusely. Up-
ward, upward was our course, now climbing throuirh a tan-
gled tiiicket, or under the spray of a cascade, and then, auain,
supporting ourselves by the roots of saplinirs, or scrambling
under a fallen tree ; — now, like the samphire gatherer, scaling
a precipice, and then again clambering over a rock, or " shin-
ninir'*' up a hemlock tree to reach a desired point.

Our lirst halt was made at a singular spot called " Hunter's
Hole," which is a spacious cavern or pit, forty feet deep,
and twenty wide, and approached only by a fissure in the moun-
tain, sudiciendy large to admit a ma ,. Connected with this
place is the following story. Many years ago, a farmer, resid-

ing at the foot of the mountain, havintr missed a favorite d

^g.

and being anxious for his safety, called together his neighbors,
and olVered a reward for the safe return of his canine friend.
Always ready to do a kind deed, a number of them started

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGUENAY.

in (lilTeroiit directions for th(^ limit. A barking sound having
been heard to isf?uo from tiiis eavern, it was discovered, and
at the bottom of it the kjst dog, which had probably fallen
therein while cliasiii(r a fox. " liiit how shall he be extri-
cated IVoni this hole?" was the general in({iiiry of the now
assembled hunters. Not one of all the group would venture
to descend, under any circumstances ; so that the poor animal
remained a prisoner for another night. IJut the next morn-
ing he was releascul, and by none other than a brave boy,
the son of the farmer and playmate of the dog. A large
number of men were j)rescnt on the occasion. A strong
rope was tied around the body of the child, and he was gently
lowered down. On reaching the bottom, and finding, by the
aid of his lamp, that he was in a "real nice place," the litUe
rogue concluded to have some sport, whereupon he proceeded
to pull down more rope, until he had made a coil of two
hundred feet, which was bewildering enough to the crowd
above ; but nothing ha])pened to him during the adventure,
and the dog was rescued. The young hero having played
his trick so well, it was generally supposed, for a long
lime after, that this cavern was two hundred feet deep,
and none were ever found sufliciently bold to enter in, even
after a beautiful fox. The bravery of the boy, however,
was the cause of his death, for he was cut down by a leaden
ball in the war of 1812.

The next remarkable place that we attained in ascending
South Peak, was the Bear Bank, where, in the depth of win-
ter, may be found an abundance of these charming creatures.
It is said that they have often been seen sunning themselves,
even from the hills cast of the Hudson.

We were now upon a beetling precipice, three hundred
feet high, and under the shadow of a huge pine, we enjoyed
a slice of bread and pork, with a few drops of genuine
mountain dew. Instead of a dessert of strawberries and

A TIirXnEU STORM.

nream, liowever, wo were fiiniishod l)y vrnorahlo danio Na-
ture with a tluiiidor-storm. It was ono that wc had noticed
niakiiiir a cfreat eominotioii in the valley helow. It had, pro-
hahlv, discovered two hipeds jroiiiir towards its home, the
sky, and seemed to have pursned us with a view of iViiiht-
eninix I's hack aijain. liut, " knowintjf that Nature nev(>r did
l)etrav the heart that loved her," we awaited tlu^ thunder-
storm's r(>plv to our ohstinate refusal to descfMid. The cloud
was yet helow us, hut its unseen herald, a stroni^ east wind,
told ns that the conflict had commenc(>d. Pres(>ntly, a peal
of thunder resounded throuiih the vast profound, whi(di caused
the mountain to tremhh^ to its deep foundation. And then
foUowed another, and another, as the storm increased ; and
the rain and hail poured down in floods. Thinkinir it more
safe to expose ourselves to the storm than remain under the
pine, we retreated without (hday, when we were suddenlv
enveloped in the heart of the cloud, oidy a i'cw rods distant.
Tiien a stroke of lijrhtnini!; hlinded us, and the towerinir fo-
rest monarch was smitten to tlu^ earth. \\v were in the
midst of an unwritten epic poem ahout that time, hut we
coidd not appreciate its heauties, for anotluu" j)eal of thunder,
and another stroke of lifrhtninir, attracted our whole attention.
8oon as these had passed, a terrilile irale followcnl in their
wake, tumhlinir down piles of loose ro(dvs, and hemlint; to the
dust, as thouiih in jiassion, th(> resist inn- forms of an army of
trees; and afterwards, a «,dorious rainhow spanned \hv. moun-
tain, appearinfr like; those distiiiiruishinir circles around the
temples of the Miirhty and Holy, as portrayed hy the painters
of old. The commotion lasted for an hour, when the rcLnon
of the liear Ha.nk h(>came as serene as the slumherof a hahc.
A spirit of silent prayer was hroodiiii'' upon the earth and in
the air, and with a shadow of thouuhtfulness at our hearts,

we resumed our upward march.

Our next halting place was upon a sort of peninsula called

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGTIENAY.

the Eajrlo's Nest, where, it is said, an Indian chiki was former-
ly carried hy one of those birds, and cruelly destroyed, and
whence the frantic mother, willi the mangled body of her
babe, leaped into the terribk) abyss below. From this point
we discovered a host of clouds assembled in council above
High Peak, as if discussing the parched condition of the
earth, anil the speediest mode of all'ording relief to a still
greater extent than they had done; and far away to the west,
was anotlier assembly of clouds, vying, like sporting chil-
dren, to outrun and overleap each other in their aerial am-
phitheatre.

Aflc this we surmounted another point called Rattlesnake
Ledge. Here the rocks were literally covered with the white
bones of those reptiles, slaughtered by the hunter in by-gone
years, and we happened to see a pair of them that were
alive. One was about four feet long, and the other, which
was only half as large, seemeil to be the offspring of tlie old
one, for, when discovered, they were playing together like
an affectionate mother with her tender child. Soon as we
appeared in their presence, the serpents immediately ceased
their sport, and in the twinkling of an eye coiled tbemselves
in the attitude of battle. The conflict was of short duration,
and to know the result you need onlv look into mv cabinet
of curiosities.

Higher yet was it our lot to climb. We went a little out
of our course to obtain a bird's-eye view of a mountain lake.
In its tranijuil bosom the glowing evening sky and mountaiu
sides were vividly reflected, and the silence surrounding it
was so profound that we could almost hear the ripples made
by a solitary duck, as it swam from one shore to the othef^
in its utter loneliness. Very beautiful, indeed, was this pic-
ture, and as I reflected upon it, I thought that as tiie Infant
of Bethlehem was tenderly protected by the j)arents who

MIDNIGHT ON THE MOUNTAINS.

watrhod over its sliunhers, so was tliis exquisite lake cra-
dled and proteeted in the lap of the mountains.

One siirht more did we behold l)erore reachinir the summit
of South l*eak. It was the sunset hour, aiul on a jutting
clitl" whieh commanded an immense view, our eyes were de-
liirhted by the siirht of a di-cr, standinir ■''till, and lookini^r
down u|)on the silent void below, which was then covered
with a deep purple atmosphere, causiiiir the prospect to re-
semble the boundless ocean. It was the last of its raci' we
could not but fancy, biddinir the liuman world ^ood nii^ht,
previous to taking to its heathery couch in a nanudess
ravine.

One eflbrt more and the lonix-desired eminence was at-
tained, and we were a little nearer the eveninir star than we
had ever been before. It was now the hour of twiliuhl, and
as we were about done over with fatiirue, it was not long
before we had pitched our leafy tent, eaten some su()p(M-, and
yielded ourselves to tiie embrace of sleep, " dear mother of
fresh thouirjits and joyous health !"

At midniixht, a cooling breath of air having passed across
my face, 1 was awakened from a fearful dream, which left.
me in a nervous and excited state of mind. A straiiLi(,' and
solemn gloom had taken possession of my spirit, which was
greatly enhanced bv the doleful song of a iieighl)orin<r hem-
lock grove. Our encampment having been mach; a little
below the summit of the peak, and feeling anxious to behold
the prospect at that hour, from that point, I awakened my
companion, and we seated ourselves upon the topmost rock,
which was nearly bare of shrubs, but covered with a rich
moss, softer and more beautiful than the finest carpet. IJut
how can I describe the scene that burst U[)on our enraptured
vision.' It was unlike anything I had ever seen before,
creating a lone, lost feeling, which I sup[)Osed couhl only be
realized by a wanderer in an uninhabited wilderness, or on

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAOrENAY.

tlio oronn, :i thousand long'iios from liomo. Above, around
anel beneath us, ay, far hcnculh us, were the eohl bri<rlil
stars, and to the eastward the " young moon willi llie ohl
moon in her arms."' In the west were floatinj; a litth} band
of pearly elouds, whicli I ahnost fancied to be winged eha-
riots, and tliat tliey were crowded with (diihlren, the absent
and h)ved of other years, wlio, in a frolic of blissful joy, wvxe
out u|)on the fields of lieaven. On on(! sith; of us reposed
lh(! long broad valley of tlu> Hudson, with its cities, towns,
villages, woods, hills and plains, whose crowded highway
was diminished to a narrow girdle of deep bhie. 'I'owards
llie south, hill beyond hill, field beyond Held r(!ceded to the
sky, occasionally enlivened by a peaceful lake. On our right
a multitudinous array of rugged mountains h\y piled up,
apparently as imi)assable as the bottomless gulf. In the
north, okl llii^h J'eak, King of the Catskills, bared his bosom
10 the mooidight, as if demanding and expecting the homage
of tlie world. Strange and magnillcent, indeed, was the pros-
j)ect from that mountain watch-tower, and it was with reluc-
tance that we turned away, as in duty bound, to sluml)er
until the dawn. TIh; dawn! and now for a sunrise picture
among the mountains, with all the illusive performances of
the mists and (douds ! He comes ! he comes! " the kinff of
the briiiht days !" Now the crimson and golden elouds arc
parting, and he bursts on the bewildered sight! One mo-
ment more, and the whole earth rejoices in his beams, falling
alike as they do upon the prince and the peasant of every
land. And now, on either side and beneath the sun an array
of new-born clouds are gathering — like a band of cavaliers,
preparing to accompany their leader on a journey. Out of
the Atlantic have they just arisen ; at noon, they will have
pitched their tents on the cerulean plains of heaven ; and
when the hours of day are numbered, the far-off waters of
the Pacific will again receive them in its cool embrace.

(\«%

PLAUTERKTLL CLOVE.

■I

Tiistcn ! was not that the roar of waves ■ Naiiirht hut the report
of tiiiinik'r in tlie valley helow. Are not the two oeeans eoniiiiii
tofrcther ? See ! we are on a rock in the midst of an illiinita-
hle sea, and the tide is surelv risiiiij — risinir rapidlv ! Slranije!
it is still as death, and yet the oceans arc covered with hil-
lows ! fiO ! the naked masts of a sjiip, stranded on a lee
shore ! — and yonder, as if a reef were hidden there to impede
their course, the waves are strnirglin<T in desj)air, now leaping
to tlie sky, and now plunging into a deep ahyss ! And
when they have passed the unseen enemy, how rapid and
beautiful arc their various evolutions, as they hast(;n to the
more distant shore I Another look, and what a change !
The mists of morninjj are being exhaled by llic rising sun,
ah'cady the world of waters is dispersed, and in the valley of
the Hudson, far, far away, are reposing all the enchanting
features of the green earth.

We descended the mountain 1)y a circuitous route, that we
might enjoy the luxury of passing through l*lauterkill Clove.
The same spring that gives rise to Scholiaric Creek, which
is the principal tributary of the Mohawk, also <rives rise to the
Plauterkill. In its very infancy, it begins to leap and laugli
with the gladness of a boy. From its sourci; to tlie j)lain, the
distance is only two miles, and yet it has a fall of twenty-live
liundred feet; but the remainder of its course, until it reaches
the Esopus, is calm and pictures(jue, ami on every side, and

at every turn, may be seen the farm-houses of a sturdy veo-

manry

The wild gorge or dell through which it passes, abounds
in waterfalls of surpassing beauty, varying from ten to a hun-
dred feet in height, whose rocks are green with the moss of
centuries, and whose brows are ever wreatluul with tiie most
exquisite of vines and Howors. Here is the double lea]),
with its almost fathomless pool, "ontaiuing a hermit trout
that has laughed at the angler's skill for a score of years \

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAOUENAY.

tlic fall of th(! Moimtuiii Spirit, liaiiiitiHl, as it is said, by the
(lis(Mnl)<)(li('d spirit of an Indian <riil, who lost her lil'e here
while j)iirsiiing a phantom of the brain ; and hvvv. is the
IJhie-bell Fall, forever gnarded by a multitudinous array of
those eharminfi' ibjwers. Caverns, too, and ehasins are here,
dark, de('[), chilly and damp; where the toad, the lizard and
snake, and straiifre families of inseets, are perpetually multi-
plying, and actually seeming to enjoy their loathsome lives ;
and here is the Black Chasm, and the J)evirs Chamber, the
latter with a perpendicular wall of twice the height of old
Trinity, and with a wainscoting of pines and hemlocks which
have " braved a thousand years the battle and the breeze."
IMauterkill Clove is an eddv of the ijreat antl tumultuous
•world, and in itself a world of unwritten jioetry, whose j)ri-
mitive loveliness has not yet been disfigured by the inlluenee
of Mammon. It has been consecrated by a brotherhood of
friends, well-tried and true, to the pure religion of Nature ;
and after spending a summer-day therein, and then emerging
under the open sky, their ieelings are always allied to those
of a pilgrim in a strange land, passing through the dreamy
twilight of an old cathedral.

15ut it is time that I should change my tune, as I desire to
record a few fishing adventures which I have lately experi-
enced among the Catskills. My lirst excursion was per-
formed along the margin of Sweetwater Brook, which flows
out of the lake already mentioned. My guide and comjianion
was a notorious hunter of this region, named Peter Hummel,
whose services 1 have engaged for all my future rambles
among the mountains. He is, decidedly, one of the wildest
and rarest characters I have ever known, and would be a
valuable acquisition to a menagerie. He was born in a little
hut at the foot of South Peak, is twenty-seven years of age,
and has never been to school a day in his life, nor, in his tra-
vels towards civilization, further away from home than lifleen

PFTF.R HIMMEL. TROTT FISHING.

miles. He was cdi'rutvd lor a bark-iralhcrer, liis latluM* aiul
several brothers lia\ iiiir always hei'ii in the business ; but
Peter is averse to eoinmoii-place labor, to auvthitiir. in fact,
that will brin^" lUonev. W hen a bov ol' live years, he had
an ijiklin<r Ibr the mountains, and onee had wandereil so lar,
that he was I'ound by his father in the (\v\\ of an old bear,
playini( with her cubs. To tramp amomr the i]U)untains, with
a gun and doi^, is Pi'ler's ehief and onlv happiness. lie is,
probably, one of the best specimens of a hunter now living;
and vcrv few, I fanev, could have survived the daniicrs to
which he has exposed himself. As to his constitution, he
seems to l)e one of those iron mortals who never die with age
and infirmity, but who generally meet with a sudden death,
as if to recoinjjense them for their heedlessness. Hut with
all his wildness and recklessness, l*eter Hummel is as amia-
ble and kind-hearted a man as ever breathed. He is an ori-
ginal wit withal, and shrewd and vi-ry laughable are many of
his speeches, and his stories arc the cream of romance and
genuine mountain poetry.

But to my story. As usual, we started on our tramp at an
early hour, he with a trout-basket in his hand, containing
our dinner, and I with my sketch-book and a " })ilgrim stalf."
After a tiresome ascent of three hours up the side of a moun-
tain, over ledges, and through gloomy ravines, we at last
reached the wished for brook. All the day long were wc
cheered by its happy song, as we descended ; now leaping
from one deep pool to another, and now scrambling over
green-coated rocks, under and around fallen trees, and along
the damp, slippery sides of the mountains, until we reached
its mouth on a plain, watered by a charming river, ami sprin-
kled with the rustic residences of the Dutch yeomanry. We
were at home by sunset, having walked the distance of
twenty miles, and caj)tured one hundred and lifty trout, the
most of which we tlistributed among the farm-houses in our

A TOIR TO THE RIVER SAOUEN'AY.

way, as wo rclnnicd. 'J'lip trout wore qiiilo small, varying
from tliroo to ci»rht ouiicos in woitrjit, and of a dark-brow

color

On anollior occasion, I had takon my skotch-hook and
some lisiiinir tackle, and j^^one uj) a mountain road to tlie i)anks
of Schoharie (Jreck, nominally Ibr the j)uri)ose of sketching
a f(!W trees. In the very iirst hol(> of the stream into which
1 accidentally peered, I discovered a large trout, lying near
the bottom, just above a little bed of sand, whence rose the
bubbles of a spring. For some thirty minutes I watched the
fellow with a " yearning tenderness," but as ho aj)pcared to

be so very ha

ppy

» <^'

ind I was in a kindred mood, 1 thoutrht

that T would let him live. l*rcsentlv, however, a b(>autilul
fly lighted on the water, which the greedy hermit swallowed
in a minute, and returned to his cool bed, with his conscience,
as I fancied, not one whit troubled by what he had done.
Involuntarily I bejjan to unwind my line, and havin<j cut a
pole, and repeated to myself something about " diamond cut
diamond," I whipped on a red hackle, and passed it over

le 1)00

1. The roiruo of a trout, however, saw me, an(

scorned for awhile to heed my line; but I coaxed and coaxed
until, at last, lu; darted for it, apparently out of mere spite.
Something similar to a miniature water-spout immediately
arose, and the monarch of the brook was in a fair way of
sharinir the same fate which had befallen the innocent fly.
I learned a salutary lesson from this incident, and as I had
yieldeil to the temptation of the brook, I shouldered my
sketch-book with a strap, and descended the stream. At
noon, I reached a farm-house, where I craved something to
eat. A good dinner was given me, which, was seasoned by
many questions, and some inform:ition concerning trout.
That afternoon, in company with a little boy, 1 visited a
neiijihborinir stream, called the Roarinij Kill, where I cautjht
one hundred and sixty flsh. I then returned to the farm-

STOW CLOVK. CATSKILL FALLS.

;••<?

iiousc, and spent the eveninir in conversation with niv new
acquaintances. Alter hreakl'ast, on the Ibllowinjr niorninif, I
set out lor homo, anil reached tliero al)Out noon, havini: made
only two adihlions to niv sketclies. Lonir shall I renieinher
th(3 eveninii^ spent with this faniiiy, and tiieir hospitality to-
wards an entire stranirer. A pleasant family was that night
atlded to my list of iViends.

Another ot" my troutini,^ j)ilirrima<res was to a famous place
called Stony (Jlove, anionic the mountains of Shandaken.
It is a deep p(?rpendicular cut or jj^orge hetw(.'en two moun-
tains, two thousand feet in depth, from twenty feel to four
hundred in width, and completely lined from hase to summit
with luxuriant vetjetation. It is watered hv a narrow hut
deep brook, which is so full ol" trout that some seven hundred
were captured by myself and two others in a sinirle day.
Wiien I tell my readers that tliis spot is only about one hun-
dred miles from New York, they will be surj)rised to learn
that in its immediate vicinity we saw no less than two bears,
one doe with two fawns, and other valuable game. In some
parts of this clove the sunshine never enters, and whole tons
of the purest ice may be found there throughout the year.
It is, indeed, a most lonely and desolate corner of the world,
and might be considered a lltting type of the valley of the
shadow of death ; in single tile did we have to pass through
that gorge, and in single tile do the sons of men pass into the
grave. To spend one day tliere we liad to encamj) tw(j
nights, and liow we generally manage that all'air 1 will men-
tion presently.

Jn returning from Stony Clove, we took a circuitous route^
and visited the Mountain Iiousc. AVe approached it by way
of the celebrated Catskill Falls, which I will describe in the
graphic language of Cooper, as my readers may not remem-
ber the passage in his Pioneer. '' Why, there's a fall in the
hills, where the water of two little ponds, that lie near each

A TOrU TO Tlir RIVKR SACT'EXAY.

othor, breaks out of tlioir bounds, luid runs ovrr llio rock?
into the valley. 'J'lin stroain is, may l)o, sucli a oiio as would
turn a niill, if so useless a thiiiir was wanted in the wilder-
ness. Jitff flifliand //utf made that *" Lnip^ nrvrr maile a
mill ! 'I'lien the water eomes eroakinir ;ind windiiiix amonir
the rocks, first so slow that a trout mi^dit swim in it, and
then startinir and runninjr, like any creature that wanted to
make a fair sprinj^, till it gets to where the mountain divides,
like the eleft foot of a deer, leavinj^ a deep liollow for the
l)rook to tumble into. The first j)itcli is ni<r}i two hundred
feet, ajid the water looks like flakes of snow afore it touolies
tlie bottom, and then gathers itself toirether asrain for a new
start, and, may be, flutters over flfly leet of flat roek, before
it falls for another hundred feet, when it jumps from shelf to
shelf, first running this way and that way, striving to get out
of the hollow, till it flnally eomes to the plain."

Our party, on this occasion, consisted of three — Peter
Iluminel. a bark-gatherer and myself. I had chosen these
fellows for the expedition, because of their friendship for me
and their willingness to go; and I resolved to give them a
"treat" at the "Grand Hotel," which the natives of this re-
gion look upon as a kind of paradise. You are aware, I
suppos(\ reader, that tlic Mountain House is an establishment
vying in ils style of ac^commodations with the best of hotels.
Between it and the Hudson, there is, during the summer, a
semi-daily line of stages, and it is the transient resort of thou-
sands, who visit it for the novelty of its location as well as
for the surrounding scenery. The edifice itself stands on a
clifl*, within a few feet of the qA^tq^ and commands a prospect
extending from liOng Island Sound to the White Mountains.
The first time I visited this spot, I spent half the night at my
bed-room window, w;i ching the fantastic performances of a
thunder-storm Air below me, which made the building tremble
like a ship upon a reef, while the sky above was cloudless,

THE MOTXTAIN HOISE.

an<l stiulilrtl with stars. IJotwccn tliis spot and South I*i>ak,
" them's tlie W'ujU i'cak and thi? Houml Top, uliich lay l)ac'k,
like a lather and mother anionir their chililrcn, seeinir tlirv
arc far ahove all the other hills."

IJiit to i)rocecd. Coarse! v^ and cornicallv dressed as we
were, we made a very uni^jue appearance as we paraded into
the olFice of the hotel. I met ;i few aeqiiainlanees there to
whom I introdueed my eomrades, and in a short time each
one was spinninjr a mountain legend to a erowd of deliiihted
listeners. In due time I ushered them into the dinini(-hall,
where was cnaeted a scene which can be better imagined
than described; the fellows were completely out of their ele-
ment, and it was huighable in the extreme, to see them stare
and hear them talk, as the servants bountifully ielj)ed them to
the turtle soup, ice-cream, charlotte russe and other fasiiion-
ablc dainties.

About the middle of the afternoon we commenced desccnd-
in<T the beautiful mountain-road leading towards the Hudson.
In the morning there had been a heavy shower, and a thou-
sand happy rills attended us with a song. A delightful nook
on this road is pointed out as the identical spot where Rip
Van Winkle slept away a score of his life. I reached home
in time to spend the twilight hour in my own room, musing
upon the much-loved mountains. I had but one companion,
and that was a whippoorwill, which nightly comes to my
window-sill, as if to tell me a tale of its love, or of the
woods and solitary wilderness.

But the most unique and interesting of my fishing adven-
tures remains to be described. I had heard a great deal about
the good fishing allbrded by the lake already mentioned, and
I desired to visit it and spend a night upon i'ts shore. Hav-
ing spoken to my friend Hummel, and invited a neighbor to
accompany us, whom the people had named " White Yan-
kee," the noontide hour of a pleasant day found us on our

A TOUR TO THE KIVER SAGUEXAY.

wiiHlmL^ mnrcl

and suL'h a irrotos([uc appearance as we

made was exeeeuinu

aniusiiiir.

le group was

111

ostlv

(miniated wlien climbing tlie steep and rocky ravines whicli
we were compelled to pass throULdu There was Peter,
"long, lank, and lean," and wild in his attire and counte-
nance as an eagle of tiie wilderness, with an axe in his jiand,
and a huge knapsack on his back, containing our provisions
and utensils for cooking. Next to him followed White
Yankee, with three; l)lankets lashed upon his back, a slouched
white hat on his head, and nearly half a pound of tol)acco
in his moutli. Crooked-legged withal, and somewiiat sickly
was this individual, and being wholly unaccustomed to this
kind of business, he went along groaning, grunting, and
sweating, as if he was "sent for and d'ubi't want to come."
In the rear tottered along your humble friend, dear reader,
with a gun u{)on his shoulder, a powder-horn and shot-pouch
at his sitle, cowhide boots on his feet, and a cap on his head,
his beard half an inch long, and his llowing hair streaming in
liic wind.

AVe reached our place of destination about five o'clock,
and halted under a large impending rock, which was to be
our sleeping place. We were cmpiiatically under the "slia-
do"/ of a rock in a weary land." Our first business was to
build a fire, which we did with about one cord of green and
dry wood. J^'iglity poles were then cut, to which we fast-
ened cur lines. The olil canoe in the lake was bailed out,
and, having baited our ln)oks with the minnows we had
brought with us, we planted the poles in about seven feet
water all around the lake shore. We then prepared and ate
our supper, and awaited the coming on of night. During
this intcu'val I learned from Peter the following particulars
concerning the lake. It was originally discovered by a
hunter named Shew. It is estimated to cover -.bout fifty
acres, and in the centre to be more than two hundred feet in

PFTKR AND UHITF, YANKFE.

•S

doplli. For inv pnrt, liowovor, I do not hrliovc it rontnins
ovvr five ncri's, thoiiijjli the mountains which towor on ovrrv
side hut one, are calcuhitcd to drccivc th(^ ('V(>; hut, a-^ to its

df'pth, I could casuy laiicy it to ho hottoinlcss, lor the water
is i-cinavkahly dark. To tlic uumhcr of trout in this hdvo
there seems to be no end. It is sui)posed thcv reach it,
wh(Mi small, tlironirh Sweetwater IJrook, when they increase
in size, and multij)ly. It also al)Ounds in ixvccn and scarlet
lizards, which are a serious drawback to the pleasures of
the fastidious anirler. I asked ]*eter many questions con-
cerniuix his adventures about the lake, and he told nu; that
l!ie number of "harmless murders"' he had committed here
was about three hundred. In one day ho shot thr(>e deer;
at another time a dozen turkeys; at another twenty ducks;
one niirjit an old bear; aiul airain hall-a-dozen eooiis ; and
on one occasion annihilated a den of thirty-seven rattle-
snakes.

At nine o'clock we lighted a torch, and went to examine
our lines; and it v/as mv rood fortune t(^ haul out not less
than forty-one trout, weiLrhinu" from oiu' to two pounds
a-pieee. These w(! put into a sprint- of v(M-y coUl water,
which bubbled from the earth a few paces from our campini^
place, and then retired to repose. Hranclies of hendock
(•onstituted our eou(di, and my station was between Peter
and White Yankee. Little did i dream, when I first saw
these two bipeds, that I should ever have them for my bed-
fellows; but who can tell what shall be on the morrow '. My
tViends were in the land of Nod in less than a dozen minutes
after we had retired; but it M-as dillicult for me to i>o to
sleep in the midst of the wild secne which surrounded me.
There I lay, (lat on my back, a stone imd my cap for a pillow,
and wrapped in a blanket, with my nose exposed to the
chilly niirht air. And what pictures did my fancy conjure
up, as I looked upon the army of trunks around me, irlist-
3

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAOUENAY.

enin<r in llie firelight. One momcnl llicy were a troop of
Iiifliaiis Iroiii the spirit-land, coino to revisit again the hunl-
ing-ijroinuls of their fatlicrs, and weeping because tiie wliite
man had desecrated llicir soil ; and again I fancied them to
he a <'ongress of wiUl animals, assenihhMl to try, execute,
and devour us, for the depredations our lellows had commit-
tc'i upon their ivind during the hist one hundred years. IJy
and hv a star peered out upon me from between thp branches
of a tree, and my tlioughts ascended heavenward. And now
mv eves twinkled and blinked in sympathy with the star,
and 1 was a dreamer.

An hour after the witching time of iiiglit, I was starded
from my sleep by a bellowing halloo from Peter, who said
it was time to examine the lines aijain. Had you heard the
echoes which were then awakened, far and near, you would
liave thought yourself in enciianted land. But there were
/ivini^ answers to that shout, for a frightened fox began to
bark, an owl commenced its horrible hootings, a partridge its
drumming, and a wolf its howl. There was not a breeze
stirring, and

'•Naught was scon in tlii^ vault on high
But the moon and tht^ stars and a cloudless sky,
And a river ol" Mhite in the welkin blue."

Peter and Yankee went out to haul in the trout, but I re-
mained on shore to attempt a drawing, by moonlight, of the
lake before me. The opposite side of the mountain, with
its dark tangled forests, was perfectly mirrored in the waters
below, the whole seeming as solid and variegated as a tablet
of Egyptian marble. The canoe with its inmates noiselessly
pursued its way, making the stillness more profound. In
the water at my feet I distinctly saw lizards sporting about,
and 1 could not but wonder why such reptiles were ever
created. I thought with the Ancient Mariner,

" A thousand slimy things lived on,
And so did I."

4
'i.

GAME.

Again (lid we retire to rest, .sIiiinl,erin<T i,„til the break of
day. We tiien partook of a substamial trout i)reakfast,
gatliercd up our plunder, and with about one hundred hand-
some trout, started for iiome.

The aceidcnts we met with .lurinir the niirht were harm-
less, though somewhat ridieulous. A paper of matches
which Peter carried in his breeches-pocket took lire, and
gave him such a scorching that he bellowed lustily ;— while
Yankee, in his restless slumbers, rolled so near our watch-
hre, that he barely escaped with a corner of his blanket, the
remainder having been consumed. As for me I only fell into
the water among the lizards, while endeavoring to reach the
end of a log which extended into the lake. In descendincr
the mountain we shot three partridges, and confoundedly
frightened a fox, and by the middle of the afternoon were
quietly pursuing our several avocations among our fellow
men of the lower world.

A ^priiiii <];iy — The sky — The iiKnintiihis — The str(■;ull^■ — The woods
— Tlie o[)('ii lu4(Ls — Domestic; iuiiiiuils — l\ielry — The poiiUry yiird.

:1
i

\
I
"r,
\

CIIAl'TEK II.

Plautcrkill Clove. May.

May is ne:ir its close, and I am still in the valley of the
Hudson. Sprinir is indeed eonie n<rain, and this, for the
present year, has heen its day ot" triumph. The moment I
awoke, at (hiwn, this mornin«j^, I knew by intuition that it
would be so, and I bounded from my eoueh like a startled
deer, impatient for the eool delicious air. 8prini^ is upon
the earth once more, anil a new life is ^iven me of enjoy-
ment and hope. 'J'iie year is in its childhood, and my
heart cliu<2:s to it with a svmpatiiv that I feel must be im-
mortal and divine. What 1 have done to-day I cannot tell.
I only know that my body has been tremulous with feeling',
and mv eves almost blin(U3d with sceinyf. Every hour has
been frautrht with a new emotion of deliirht, and presented
to my vision numberless pictures of surpassing beauty. T
liave held communion with the sky, the mountains, the
streams, the woods, and tiic fields; and these, if you please,
shall be the themes of my present chapter.

The sky! it has been of as deep an azure and as serene
as ever canopied the world. It seemed as if you could look
throui^h it into the illimitable home of the angels — could

SPRING.

almost hrliold tho irlnry wliicli snrrouiuls tlie Invisible.
Throe clouds aloiio liruo attracUMJ my attoiition. One was
tho ollsprinir of the dawn, and oncirclcMl by a rim of irold ;
\\\p. next was tlie daiitrlitor of noon, and white; as the driven
snow, anil \hv last, of cvtMiinn", and robed in de(>j)(:st crimson.
AV^ivward and co(iucltisli creatnrt\s were these (doudsl their
chief ambition seemed to be to disj)lay their charms to the
best advantafrc, as if conscious of their loveliness; and, at
sunset, when the li^ht lay ])illowed on the mountains, it was
a joyous si<rhi to see them, side by side, like three sweet
sisters, as they were, ifo/;?:*" home. Each one was anxious
to favor tho world with its own last smile, and by their
chnuniufr places so often, you would have thoiiLiht they
were all unwilliii<r to depart, liut they w(>re the ministers
of the sun, and he would not tarry for them; and while lie
beckoned them to ibllow on, the eveniiiir star took bis sta-
tion in the sky, and bade them depart; and when 1 looked
aL^'ain, they were jLTone. Never more, thouirhl J, will those
clouds 1)0 a sonrce of joy to a human heart. And in this
respect, also, they seemed to me to be the end)lems of those
beautiful but thouiihtless maidens, who spend the llower of
vouth triflinrr Avith the afl'ections of all whom thev have the
power to fascinate.

The mountains! in honor of the season which has just
clothed them in the ricdiest irreen, they have, this day, dis-
played every one of th(>ir varied and interostinfr charms. At
noon, as I lay under the shadow of a tree, watchinir them
" with a look made of all sweet accord," my face was fresh-
ened by a breeze. It appeared to come from the summit of
South Peak, and to be the voice of the Catskills. I listened,
and these were the words wiiicli echoed throuLdi my ear.

" Of all the seasons, oh 8j)rinL,'' ! thou art the nn)st be-
loved, and, to us, idways the most welcome. Joy and glad-
ness ever attend thy coming, for we know that the ' winter is

A TOI'R TO THE RIVER SAOFENAV.

past, tlie rains are over and {,fone, ifio time of llie singing
ol" birds is come, and llie voice of the turtle is heard in our
land.' And we know, too, that from thy hands (low unnum-
bered blessings. Thou soflenest the earth, that the husband-
man may sow his seed, which shall yield him a thousand
Ibid at the harvest. 'IMiou releascst the rivers from their icy
fetters, that the wings of commerce may be unfurled once
more. 'J'hou givest food to the cattle upon a thousand hills,
that they, in their turn, may furnish man with necessary food,
and also assist him in his domestic labors. Thou coverest
the earth with a garniture of freshest loveliness, that the
senses of man may be gratified, and his thoughts directed to
II im who hath created all things, and pronounced them good.
And, finally, thou art the iiope of the year, and thine admo-
nitions, which are of the future, liave a tendency to emanci-
pate the thoughts of man from this world, and the troubles
which may surrouiul him here, and tix them upon that
clime where an everlasting s])ring abides." " The voice
in my dreaming ear melted away," and I heard the roaring
of the streams, as they fretted their way down the rocky
steeps.

The streams! such "trumpets" as they have blown to-
day would, I am afraid, have caused Mr. Wordsworth to
exclaim:

'' The cataracts — make a dcvUish nohc up yonder, '^^
The fact is, as " all the earth is gay," and all the springs
among the mountains are " giving themselves up to jollity,"
the streams are lull to overflowinir, and rush along with a
" vindictive looseness," because of the burden they have to
bear. The falls and cascades, which nudvc such exquisite
pictures in the summer months, arc now fearful to behold,
for, in their anger, every now and then they toss some giant
tree into an abyss of foam, which makes one tremble with
fear. But after the streams have left the mountains, and are

AN EMRLEM.

runninjT throuL'^h tlio !)ott()in liiiids, thcv still appear to he dis-
pleased with sometllillL^ and at cvcrii funi tli(\v take, (h/rc
into the " bowels of the Iwrmless earth,'" makiiiiX it daiiLrer-
ous for the anirler to approach too near, hut reiulerinir the
hauTitofthe trout niort^ spacious and commodious tlian hel'ore.
'I'he streams are about the onlv thiui^s I cannot ])raise lo-day,
and I hope it will no! rain tor a month to come, if this is
the way they intend to act whenever wi; have a number of
dcliLditful showers.

'I'lie woods! A iroodly portion of the day have 1 spent
in one of their most secret recesses. I went with Shakspeare
under my arm ; but 1 could not read anv more than tly, so
I stretched mvself at full leuL'th on a huire IolS and kept a
sharp look-out lor anvthinir that miiiht seiul me a wakinjr
dream, 'i'he brotherhood of trees (dustered around me. laden
with leaves just bursting- into I'ull maturity, and possessiuL'"
that delicate and jieculiar oreen which lasts but a sinole day,
and never returns. A tilful bree/e swept ihrouLdi them, so
that ever and anon T fancied a iiushinu" fountain to be near,
or that a company of ladies iair was come to visit me. and
that I heard the rustle of their silken kirtles. And now mv
eyes rested on a tree that was (Mitirtdy lealless, and almost
without a limb. Instead of grass at its foot, was a hea[) of
dry leaves, aiul not a bush or a vine trrew anywhere lu'ar it;
but arourul its neiirhbors thev orow in irreat abuntlance. It
s(>enied branded with a curse; ah)iu', forsaken of iis own.
and despised by all. Can this, tbouirbt [, be an emblem of
any human beini: ? Stran<ie that it should be, but it is ne-
vertheless too true. Only one week airo, I saw a poor mise-
rable maniac, bound hand and foot, driven from " honu! and
all its trcnisures,"' and carried to a dark, damp prison house
in ii neiirhborini^ town. I can be recoju'ib'd to the mystery
of a poisotious reptile's existence; but it is very hard to un-
derstand for what irood purpose a maniac is crcateil. Ano-

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGIEXAY

llu'i* ()I)i({-t I iiolieod, uas :i little truo about five feet hififh,
eonij)l(!t(ly eovered with blo.ssoiii.s ol" a (raiiily lino. At first,
I tiicil to fratluM' soiijt'thiiig- j)octicul out oi" this thiui^, but
Avith all my endeavors I could not. It eausetl uie a real
liearly lau<;h, as the idea exj)andcd, lor it reminded me of a
eertain maid(.'n lady of my aecjuaintauee, who is old, ainntcih
verv iond of tall mc/i, and alwavs strutlin<r an)oni{ her i'el-
lows under a weii^ht i)i' /'( tcclri/. IJul oh! wliat beautiful
llowers did 1 notice in that sliady tjrove, whose whispering
tilled nie with deliuhl ! 'J'heir names.' I cannot tell them
to you, lair reader — they oi(u;ltl to have no names, any more
than a cloud, or a foam-hell on the river. Some were blue,

some Av

hit

e, some

purj

)ie

uul som

e scarlet. There were

litU(

e narlies of them on every side, and as the wind swayed

tlieir deli

eir delicate stems, 1 could not but lancy they were living
creatures ; tlie j)ersonified thoughts, perhaps, of happy and
innocent chihlrt;n. Occasionally, too, I noticed a sort of
straggler peeping at me from beside a hillock of moss, or
from under the branches of a fallen tree, as if sur])rised at
my temerity in entering its s(H'ludetl haunt. liirds,also, w^ere
around me in that green-v,ood saiu;tuary, singing their hymns
of praise to the; Father of Mercies for the return of s])ring.
The nests of the females being already built, they had nothing
to do hut be happy, anticij)ating the time when they them-
selves should be the " dealers-out of some small blessinus"
lo their helpless broods. As to their mates, they were about
as independent, restless, and noisy as might be expected, very
much as any rational man would be who was the husband
of a young and beautil'ul wife.

But the open llelds to-day have supcraboimded with pic-
tures to ])lease and instruct the mind. I know not wdiere to
begin to descrii)C them. Shall it be at the very threshold of
our farm-house ? Well, then, only look at those lilac trees in
the garden, actually top-heavy with purple and white llower-

RIRAL PICTI RF.

inir ])yrnnii(ls. The old farmer has just rut a nuiiiher of larjjo
branches, and lmvcm them to his litUe (hiuuhter lo earrv to
her mother, wlio will distrihute them helween tlie inantle-
pieec, the tahle, and iIk' lire-place of the family sittiiiijr-room.
lint what ambrosial odor is that which, now salutes the senses !
It comes not from the variejrated corner of the !j:;rden, where
th(; tulij), the violet, the iiyacinth, the bluebell and the lily

ol the valley are vyiui^ to outstrip each other in tluMr attire ;
nor irom the clover-covered lawn, besprinkled with butter-
cups, strawberry blossoms, and honeysuckles, but from the
orchard, every one of whose trees are completely covered

with snow-white blossoms. And Ir

leir num

berl

ess

])(!tals emanates the murmur of bees as they are busy ex-
tractiiiii" tlie luscious honey. What an abundance of fruit —
of apj)les, cherries, peaches and ])ears, do these sweet blossoms
promise! ikit next week there ?y/r/y be a hitler /Voa'/; and
this is the lesson which my lu'art learns. Now that I am in
the sprinir-time of life, my hop(;s, in numbers and beauty, arc
like the blossoms of trees, and I know not but that they may
even on the morrow be withered by the chilly breath of the
grave. JJut let us loiter farlh(>r on. The west( rn slope of
this jTcntle hill is equally divided, and of two dill'erent shades
of green ; one is planted with rye and the other with wheat.
The eastern slope of the hill has lat(dy been loosened by the
plough, and is of a sombre color, but to my eyes not less
pleasing than the green. And this view is enlivened with
ligures besides — for a farmer and two boys are planting corn,
the latter opening the beds with their hoes and the former
droj)i)iii<,!- in the seeil (which lu; carries in a bag slung at his
side), and covering it with his foot. And now, lluttering over
their heads is a roguish bobolink, scoiilini^ about something
in tluMr fVdkc : at a rcsjjec/fiil distance, and hoppiuir along
the ground, are a number of robins, and on the nearest fence
a meadow-lark and bluebird are 'Mioldinsr on for a bite."'

!:■ >
; i

A TOrU TO THE RIVER SAGUENAY.

Hut thorn is no end to thesn rural picturos, so I will just take

my reader into this neii^hhoriuir iuoack)W-pasture, thenee
into the pouhry-yard ;it lionic, aiiti eouclude my present rhap-
.sody.

ero wo are

ion, in the mu

dst of

various domestic ani-

mals. Yoiuh^r a couple of l)hiclv oolts are oliasinir each
other in play, while their venerahlc mother (for they are
l)rothers, thoui^Hi not twins) is standinjr a little way oil",
watohini: their antics, and twisting about her ears, as she
remomhers the happy days of her own colt-hood. Hero arc
some half dozen hearty cows, lyinir down and <rrazin<f, each
one with a " pledixo of allection" sjxirtinir about her. There
are six or ei<>iit oxen, eatini^ away as fast as they can, while
one who seems to be a sentinel, occasionally rolls up his eye
to see if the farmer is coniinuf to renew his sonfj of " haw !
o-oe ! <roo ! haw!" lender the shadows of that old oak is a
flock of sheep, with their lambs boundiu"^ beside them, as to
the " tabor's sound ;" but to me there comes no " tiiouijiu of
ffrief " at tin* siijht, wherein 1 must be sudered to disairroe
with Wordswortii, to whom I have already alluded once or
twice, and whose celebrated and most wonderful 'hIc has
been echoing iu my heart all the day long. Some of the
lines in it are appropriate to the day, the charms of which I
am attempting to make you fee/, reader, and you will oblige
me by conning and inwardly digesting the following Irag-
nieats of a whole and yet really complete poem : —

•' Tlje MiiisliMie js a ykirjttu.s liirth."'

Tlu-, winds (Oiae to me IVdiii the Jicl(l< ff slce^

•'■' Aiul the Ijabc leaps up on liis iiKither'.s afiii."'

'^ Earth fills her lap with pleasurori of her own."'

THE POFLTRY VAR.

" Full <(>i,\[ thy -mil -hall ii:i\i' Ikt rar ly I JglH.
And cil^tuiii lie \\[)i>\\ tlirc \v itli a N\ •■■ lit
Heavy a.- I'atr, aial (Ici'p alin<>.-t as lit^'.

4:i

'' ( ) j<iy, that ill Diir fiiilnTs
Is Mijiicthiiiu' that (I'ltli livi',
I'hat natiii'i' yet rciiiciiilMrs
What ua- >(i t'lijitivc."

'•'1\) iiic the iiii'aiii'.-t lliiurr thai lilndins, can '/ivc
'I'hoiiLrhts that do (jl'ti'ii lie Um (K'r[i llir trars. "

Slraniro that a man, after dwellitiir upon such poetry, sliould
1)0 williiiu; to iro into a poullrij yard. Hiil why not? I
woidd rath(M- do this /ril/inu'/i/ tlian be I'onipcllcd, as I liavo
been, and may 1)0 ai>ain, to lioar a man say, after readinir to
him Wordsworth's (jWAi Ode, " Wliy! of what f/.sr is such
>iff'J/.'* what (h)es \i prorr/ will it furnish a man with /tread
and huft( r .'^ will it make the po/ boil .^''' The people of the
poultry-yard have heen in sutdi i^lee to-day, and contributed
so much to the irladncss of the day, that I must pay them a
passiufr tribute. In the llrst place, our old gobbler, with his
retinue of turkey wives, has been at the point of burstinir
with pride ever since sunrise. If the (Jrand Sultan of Tur-
key, (who must be the father of all turkeys,) cuts the same
kind of capers in the presence of his hundred ladies, Turkey
must be a <rreat country for lean people to " V\\\g\\ and iirow
fat." Our irobbler is a feathered personilication of .lacdc Fal-
stafl", possessinir his prominent trail of cowardice to perfeciion.
I nourished a '-ed handkerchief in his face this morninj^, and,
by the way he strutted round and gobbled, you would have
thought he was going to devour you. About ten minutes
after this, I threw down a handful of corn, which was in-
tended for his particular palate. AVhile he was busy pick-
ing it up, a certain cock stepped alongside, and commenced
picking too. The intruder, having got in the way of the

■.-.-.^TT-— -.~.^,-„ 1

A TOT'R TO THE RIVER SAOUENAY.

H ii'

«ro!)l»l( r, \v;is siiddciily pushed aside ; wliereupon tlie <rrnlle-
maii with s[)\irs cliuekled and " sliowed fiirlit;'' l)ut llie jrol)-
bl(;r lor a moment lieeded him not. 'i'Jiis tlie rock could not
hear, s(» lie pounced uj)on his enemy, and whipped him with-
out mercvs until the coward and fool ran away, with his lon<r
train of alVectionate wives rollowinir behind.

The cocks, hens and (thickens which have fiuured in the
yard to-day, would more than number a hundred ; and such
cacklin<r, crowin<r, clnicklin^r, and cryinjic 'is they have made,

was anvthmjr hut a

?»

cnncnnl ol sweet sounds." Hut the
creatures have been happy, and it was therefore a pleasure
to look at them. A youiii^ hen, this morninir, made her lirst
app(!aran(;e Aviih a lar<rc brood of cliickens, yellow as <rold,
and this caused quite a sensation amonjr the feathered hus-
bands irenerally. The mother, as she rambled about, se(>med
to say, by lier ])omj")Ous air, to her daughterless friends —
" Ar'n't they beautiful .' don't vou wish you had a IViw ?"
It was also very funny to sec with what looks of astonish-
ment the youthful cocks surveyed these " infant phenome-
nons." As to our ducks, and geese, and guinea-hens,
they have minded their business very well — the two former
paddling about the creek and mud-puddles, and the latter,
"between meals," roaming at large through the orchard and
garden, altogether the most beautiful and rational of the lea-
thered tribes.

A mountaineer, who is to take this queer record to the
post-ollice, is waiting for me below, and 1 must close, — hop-
ing that the country pictures I have endeavored to sketch,
may have a tendency to make you feel a portion of that joy
which has characterized this delightful Spring Day.

CHAPTER I IT

Tlu." Cora IMaiiting Bee,

Pliiuterkill Clove, May.

The people who inhabit that section ol' romitry lyiiij^ be-
tween the Catskill Mountains and tlie Hudson Kiver, are
un(loul)te(lly the let^itiniate descendants ot" the lar-fanicd Kip
Van Winkle. Dutch blood llowclh in their veins, and their
names, appearance, manners, are all Dutch, and J)ut('li only.
The majority of them are eiiiraijed in tillinir the soil, and as
they seem to be satislied with a bare competency, the peace-
lulness of their lives is only equalled by their ignorance of
l)Ooks and the world at larf^e. Tlie heiirht of their ambition
is to enjoy a frolic, and what civilized people understand by
that term, they designate a Bee. Not only have they their
wedding and funeral bees, but they commemorate their
agricultural labors with a i)ee, and of lliese the corn planting
bee, which I am about to describe, is a specimen.

A certain old Dutchman of my acquaintance had so long
neglected die field where he intended to plant his corn, that
he found it necessary to retrieve his reputation by getting up
a bee. He therefore immediately issued his invitations, and
at two o'clock on the appointed day, about seventy of his
neighbors, including men and women, made their appear-
ance at liis dwelling, each one of them furnished with a hoe

A TOUU TO TIFF. RIVKR SAGTKNAV.

and a small i)a<r to carry the seed. After siij)j)lyiii!^r jiis (rucsts
with all tlipy \vaiit(;d in tin; way oi' .s/jtrihat/ dv'iuk., i>!v friend
(^ave tlicj .sio:nal, and sli()idderini( a iarj^e hoe, started ofV for
th ' lield of action, closely I'ollowed hy his neiiihhors, wlio
fell to work (jiiite Instily. 'J'he field was larire, but as the
laborers were nuinerons, it was entirely |)lanted at least two
honrs before sunset, when the party was disbanded, with the
express nnderstandinir reslinii" npon their ininds that they
shoidd invite their children to the dance, which was to take
j)lace in the evenin<r at the l)ee-iriver's residence.

'J'he house of my farmer friend havinsr been oriLnnally
built Ibr a tavern, it liaj)j)ened to contain a lartre l)all-ro()m,
and on this occasion it was strij)ped of its beds and bcddin(r,
and the walls thereof decked iVom top to bottom with o-reen
brandies and an occasional tallow candle, and conspicuous
at one end of the hall was a refreshment establishment, well
supplied with pies, gingerbread, molasses candy and segars,
and with an abundance o[ colored alcohols. The number of
young men and women who came together on this occasion
was about one hundred, aiul M'hile they were trimming for
the approaching dance, the musician, a long-legged, huge and
bony l)ut(dunan, was tuniuii; a rustv liddle. The lliirtv
minutes occupied by him in this interesting business were
employed by the male portion oi" the guests in " wetting their
whistles." The dresses worn on this occasion M'ere emi-
nently rustic and unique. Those of the gentlemen, for the
most i)art, were made of coarse gray cloth, similar to that
worn by the residents on lilackwelPs Island, while the ladies
were arrayed in white cotton dresses, trimmed with scarlet
ribbon. Pumps being out of vogue, cowhide boots were
worn by the former and calf brogans by the latter.

All things beiiv-r now ready, a terribly loud screech came
from the poor little liddle, and the clattering of lieels com-
menced, shaking the building to its very foundation. " On with

A HALL

rlic (laiH'c, let jov hi- iiiifoiiliiicil," sccnu'd to he llie inotlo ol
all present, aiul iVoiii the start, there si^cineil to he a strife
hetweeii the iiiah; and lemale thiiieers as to who shouhl h'ap

the hiiiliest and make tlie most noise

esneratc were;

■llbrlr

s ol the miisieian, as lie lohed away upon his mstni

meiit, keepinir discord with Ins

heeh

ami e\-erv iinu.s

ual

wail ol' the luhlle was the ibreriinner ol' a shower (^T sweat,
wlii(di came roilinir oil" the tiddler's I'aee to the lloor. And
then the joyous delirium ol the musician was eommimieated
to the daneers, and as the danee })roreeded, their ellbrts be-

came sti

re desperate : the

women wi-(

11 V th

rew

hack

leir hair, ami many ol the men took oil their coats, am
rolled up their shirt sleeves, for tlu; purpose of keepinir cool.
In spilt! of every ellbrt, howev(>r, the faces of the dancers
bccanu! ([uile red with the rare excitement, and iht; hall was
filled with a kind of heated foir, in which the lirsl "break-
down" of tlu! evenintr concluded.

Then followed the refreshment scene. Tln^ men drank
wliisky and smoked cijrars, while the women feasted on
mince pics, drank small beer, and smdvcd molassi^s candy.
Some of the smaller men or boys, who were; too lazy to
dance, sneaked oil" into an out-of-the-way room, for the pur-
pose of pittdiinir pennies, while a few couples, who were
victims to the tender passion, retired to some cozy nook to
bask unobserved in each other's smiles.

JJut now- the screechinir fiddle is a<rain lieard above the
murmur of talking and lau^hin^- voices, and another rush is
made for the sanded lloor. Another dance is then enjoyed,
diU'erinir from the one already described only in its increased
extravagance. After sawini^ away for a \o\vj time as if for
dear life, the musician is politely retjuested to play a new
tunc. Promptly does lie assent to the proposition ; but having
started on a fresli key, he soon falls into tlio identical strain
which had kept him busy for the previous liour; so that the

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGUENAY.

pliiloRophic listener is compelled to conclude either that the
fiddler cannot play more than one tunc, or that he has a par-
ticular passion for the monotonous and nameless one to
which he so closely clintrs. And thus with many indescrib-
able variations docs the ball continue throuixhotit the entire
night.

I did not venture to trip the " liofht fantastic toe" on the
occasion in question, but my enjoyment as a calm spectator
was very amusinjr and decidedly oriijinal. Never before had
I sc(!n a greater amount of labor performed by men and
women in the same time. 1 left this interesting asscml)ly
about midnight, fully satisfied with what I had seen and
heard, but I was afterwards told that I missed more than
*'half the fun."

When the music was loudest, so it appears, and the frenzy
of the dance at its climax, a select party of Dutch gentlemen
were suddeidy seized with an appetite for some more sub-
stantial food than any that had yet been given them, 'rhcy
held a consultation on the important sul))ect, and finally agreed
to ransack the garret and cellar of their host for the purpose
of satisfying their jiatural desires. In the former place they
found a good supply of dried beef, and in the latter, a few
loaves of bread and a jar ol' rich cream, upon which ihey
regaled themselves without favor, but with some fear. The
giver of the bee subsequently discovered what had been done,
and though somewhat more than " three sheets in the wind,"
slyly sent for a pair of constables, who soon made their
appearance, and arrested the thieving guests, who were held
to bail in the sum of fifty dollars each. I was also informed
that the dance was kepi up until six o'clock in the morning,
and that the appearance of my friend's establishment and
the condition of his guests at seven o'clock were ritliculoiis in
the extreme. A small proportion of the bee-party only had
succeedeil in starting for home, so that the number who from

CORN' PLANTING UEE.

excess of drinkincr and luuhic fatiirue had retired to repose,
was not nir from tliree score and trn. The sleepier accom-
modations of the host xvcre limited, and the consT(iuence
was that his ffucsts l,ad to shift for themselves as they hest
could. The lloors of every room in the house, ineludin^r
the pantries, were literally covered with men and women,—
some of them moaninir with a severe headache, some hreathin-r
audibly in a deep sleep, and oUiers snorinir in the loudes't
and most approved style. By twelve o'clock the interestincr
company had stolen olF to their several homes, and the corn
plantincr bee, among the Catskills, was at an end.

CHAPTER IV.

Luke Horicou — Sketches of its scenery — Information f(jr un'rlers — Sab-
bath Day Point — War memories — The insect city — Death of a det'r —
Rogers' Slide — Diamond Jslanci — The snake charmer — Snake stories
— Night on llorieon.

Ltjma)i's Tavo-n, June.

If circuniPtaiicos alone could make one poetical, then
might you expect IVoui me, on this occasion, a paper of rare
excellence and heauty. My sketch-book is my desk ; my
canopy from the sunshine, an elm tree ; tlie carpet under my
feet, a rich green sprinkled with flowers ; the music in my
ear of singing birds ; and the prospect before me, north, east,
and south, the tranquil bosom of Lake George, with its
islands and surrounding mountains ; whose waters, directly at
my side, are alive with many kinds of fish, sporting together
on a bed of sand. Yes, the far-famed Lake George is my
subject ; but in what I write, I shall not use that tide, — for
I do not like the idea of christening what belongs to us with
the name of an English monarch, however much his memory
deserves to be respected. iSiiall it be Lake St. Sacrament,
then ? No ! for that was given to it by the Pope, and the
French nation. Iloricon — a musical and appropriate word,
meaning pure water, and given to it by the poor Indian — is
the name which rightfully belongs to the lake which is now
my theme.

LAKE HORICOX,

^
^

Tiakc Iloi-icon is one of tlic few ohjijcts in Niitiire whicii
(lid nut disappoint nie after rea(lin<r the ilesoriplions of tra-
vellers. I vrrily believe that, in point of mere beanty, it has
not its superior ui the world. Its len<:ih is thirty-four miles,
and its width from two to four. Its islands number about
three hundred, and vary from te'u feet to a mile in lenirlh ; —
a ffreat many of them art; located in the centre of the lake,
at a j)lace called the Narrows. It is completely surrounded
with mountains ; the most prominent of whicli are, Hlack
Mountain, on the cast of the iNarrows, Ton<^ue Mountain, di-
rectly opposite, and French Mountain, at the soulh.ern extre-
mity. The first is the most lofty, and remarkal)h3 for its wild-
ness, and the superb prospect therefrom ; the second is also
wild and uninhai>ited, but distinguished for its dens of rattle-
snakes ; and the latter is somewhat cultivated, but memorable
lor having been the camping-ground of the French during
the Kevolutionary War. The whole eastern border is yet a
com})arative wilderness; but .along the western shore are
some respectable farms, and a good coach road from Cald-
well to Ticonderoga, which allbrds many admirable views
of the sky-blue lake. There are three public houses here
which I can recommend : the Lake House, for tlu)se who
are fond of company — Lyman's Tavern lor the hunter of
scenery and lover of quiet — and CiartleUl's House for the
fisherman. A nice little steamboat, commanded by a gentle-
man, passes through every morning and evening, (excepting
Sundays,) and though a convenient afiair to the travciUer, it
is an evesore to the admirer of the wilderness. Identilied
with this boat is an eccentric man named Old Dick, who
amuses the tourist, and collects an occasional shilling by ex-
hibiting a number of rattlesnakes. When, in addition to all
these things, it is remembered that Horicon is the centre of
a region made classic by the exploits of civilized and savage
warfare, it can safely be pronounced one of the most into-

A TOl K TO THE RIVER SAGUENAV.

rcslinir portions of our ooimtry for the summer tourist to
visit. 1 have looked upon it from many a peak whenee mii^lit
be seen almost every rood of its shore. I liavc; sailed into
cverv one of its hays, and, lik(? ihe pearl-diver, hav(> re-
pealcdly descended into its ('old hluc ehamhers, so tliat 1
have learned to love it as a faithful and well-tried friend.
Since the day of my arrival liere, I have kept a journal oi
my adventures, and, as a memorial of Iloricon, I will extract
ihertdVom, and cmhody in this chapter the followinii ])as-

vSages.

Six pencil sketches have I executed upon tlie lake to-day.
Oiu' of them was a view of the distant mountains, whose
various outlines were concentrated at one point, and whose
color was of that delicate, dreamy hlue, created by a sun-
lif^ht atmosph(>re, M'ith tiie sun directly in front. In the mid-
dle distance was a Hock of islands, with a sail-boat in their
midst, and in the forej^round a cluster of rocks, surmounted
by a single cedar, which appeared like the sentinel of a for-
tress. Another was of the ruins of Fort George, with a
background of dark-irreen mountains, made quite desolate by
a llork of sheep sleeping in ono of its shady moats. An-
other was of a rowing-race between two rival fishermen, at
i\u) lime thev were onlv a dozen rods from the goal, and
when every nerve of their aged frames was strained to the
utmost. Another was of a neat log-cabin, on a quitst lawn
near the water, at whose threshold a couple of ragged, but
beautiful children were playing with a large dog, while from
the (diimney of the house ascended the blue smoke with a
thousand fantastic evolutions. Another was of a huire pine
tree, which towered conspicuously above its. kiiulred on the
mountain side, and seemed to me an appropriate symbol of
Webster in the midst of a vast concourse of liis fellow men.
And the last was of a thunder-storm, driven away from the

TROIT FISHIXG.

nioiiiitnin lop i)y llio mild radiance of a rainbow, vvhirli
partly ('Mrir(d(Hl lloricoii in a lovini^ cinbrace.

I iiavc hoA'w fisliinir to-day, and, while endurinir some poor
sport, indited in my mind the followini:' information, for the
hen(>fit of my piscatorial friends. 'I'ln; days of trout-fishinj^
in Lake Iloricon are nearly al an end. A few years a^o, it
abounded in salmon-trout, whicii were frcNjuently eauiiiit
weiuhiuL'" twentv })ounds. liut their avcMMii^e weiulit, at the
present time, is not more than one pound and a half, and
they are scarce even at that. In taking" them, you llrst have
to obtain a sudicient ([uanlity of sapliiiLT bark to reach the
bottom in sixtv feel ol' water, to one end of whitdi must be
fasteiu'd a stone, and to the otiier a stiidv of wood, which
desiLjnates your lishinsr-iiround, and is called a !)nov. A. va-
riety ol mor(! common tish ;ire then caught, such as smdiers,
perch, and ee!-;, which are cut up and deposited, some hall" a
peck at a time, in the vicinity of the buoy. In a few days
the trout will beuin to assemble, and so lonir as yon ke-ep
them well led, a brace of them may be ca{)turc:d at any time
duriu'j" the summer. I>ut the fact is, tliis is only another
way for "• piiyinu- too dear lor the whistle." TIk; best an-
,<j[lin;'.". after all, is for the common Ijrook trout, which is a
bolder bitinLf iish, antl l)etter for the table; than the salmon
trout. 'I'lu! r;iuse of the jjreat decrease in the larire trout of
this lake, is this: — in the autumn, when ihev have souiiht the
shores tor the ptirpose of sj)awninii, the neiuii!)orintr barba-
rians have been accustomed to spear them by tortdi-liuht ;
and if the heartless business iloes not soon cease, the result
Will be, that in a few years they will be extinct. 'I'liere are
two other kinds of trout in the lake, however*, which vet
all'ord irotxl sport. — the silver trout, (;au<^ht in tin; sumincM',
aiul the lall trout. Hut the bbudv bass, upon the whole, is
now mostly valued by the fisherman. Thev are in their

■ ft '^ ' im- ^ n' i m^mtrmi^itm

A TOTIR TO THE RIVKR SAGUENAY.

^ I

primo in iho piinimcr montlis. Thoy vary from one to five
pounds in wcig-lit ; are taken by troUino", and Mith a drop
lino, and allbrd fiiio sport. 'I'lifir haunts arc alonj^ the rocky
shores, and it is olicn the ease, tliat on a still day you may see
iheni IVoni your hoaf, swiniininy' about in lierds Avhere the
water is twenty feet deep. 'J'liey have a queer fashion, when
hooked, of leapinir out of the water, for the purpose of irettinjr
clear, and it is seldom that a novice in the <rentle art can
keep them from suceeedinjr. But, alas ! their numbers also
are fast diminishiiiij^, by the same means and the same hands
that have killed the trout. My advice to those who come
here exclusively for the purpose of fisiiiiiir is, to continue their
journey to the sources of the Hudson, Scaroon liake. Long
Lake, and liake Pleasant ; in whose several waters there seems
to be no end to every variety of trout, and where may be found
much wild and beautiful scenery. 'J'he angler of the present
day will be disappointed in Lake Iloricon.

"When issuing from the Narrows on your wav down the
Iloricon, the most attractive object, next to the mountains, is
a strip of low, sandy land, extending into the lake, called
Sabbatii Day Point. It was so christened by Abercrombie,
who encainjied and spent the sabbaUi there, M'hen on his
M'ay to Ticonderooa, wh(>re he was so sadly deA^ited. I
look upon it as one of the most enchanting places in the
world ; but the pageant with which it is associated was not
only enchanting and ix'autiful, but masinificent. Only look
upon the picture. It is the sunset hour, and before us, far
up in the upper air, and companion of the evening star, and a
host of glowing clouds, rises the majestic form of Plack Moun-
tain, enveloped in a mantle of rosy atmosphere. 'I'he bosom
of the lake is without a ripple, and every cliO", ravine and
island has its counterpart in the pure waters. A blast of mar-
tial music from drums, fifes, bagpipes and bugle horns now

FORTS GEORGE AND WILLIAM HENRY

falls upon the car. and the immense procession comes in
siflcht ; one tliousnnd and thirty-five iiatteaux, containiiiij an
army of seventeen lliousand sonls, headed i)y the hrave Al)er-
cromhie and the red cross of Knujland, — the scarlet uniforms
and glisteniniT bayonets forminsr a line of li<,dit airainst the
darker hackuroiind of the mountain. And behind a ioi^ in
the fore<rround is a crouchini: Indian runner, who, with the
speed of a hawk, will carry the tidinirs to the French nation,
that an army is comin<r — "numerous as the leaves u[Hm the
trees.*' Far from the stranire scene fly the airrijrhted deni-
zens of luountain and wave, — while thousands of human
hearts arc beating liappily at tlie prospect of victory, whose
bodies, in a few hours, will be food for the raven on the plains
of 'I'iconderoga.

A goodly portion of this day have I been musinf^ upon the
olden times, while rambling about Fort Gcorire, and Fort
AVilliam Henry. liOngand with peculiar interest did I linjrer
about the spot near the latter, where were cruelly massacred
the followers of Monroe, at which time Montcalm linked his
name to the title of a hearUess Frenchman, and the name of
Webb became identified with all that is justly despised by
the human heart. I profess myself to be an enemy to wronjr
and outraw of every kind, and yet a lover and defender of
the Indian race; but when I picked up one alter another the
fiinty heads of arrows, which were mementos of an awful
butchery, my spirit revolted against the red man, and for u
moment I felt a desire to condemn him. Yes, 1 will condemn
that })articular band of murderers, but I cannot but defend
the race. Cruel and treacherous they were, I will allow,
but do we not for<ret the treatment they ever met with from
the while man? The most righteous of battles have ever
been foutiht for the sake of sires and wives and children,
and for what else did the })oor Indian fight, when driven from

j i

A TOUR TO THE RIVKR SAGUENAY.

the lioine of his youth into an unknown wiklonuiss, to hccornc
tlicroaftcr a hy-wonl and a roj)roac'h amoni( the nations ?
" Indians," said we, '' we wouUl liavc your lands, and il^ you
will not he satislied with the ^^cwgaws we proller, our powder
and halls will teaeh you that power is hut another name for
ri<(ht." And this is the })rinciple that has guideil the white
man ever sinc'e in his warfare ajjainst the abori<iin(!s of our
country. I eannot bfdievc that we shall ever be a happy
and prosperous people until the King of kings shall have
forgiven us for having, with a yoke of tyranny, almost anni-
hilated an hundred nations.

A portion of this afternoon 1 whiled away on a little island,
whieli attracted my attention by its charming variety of
foliage, it is not more than one liundred feet across at the
widest part, and is encircled by a yellow sand bank, and
shielded by a regiment of variegated rocks. But what could
I iind there to interest me, it may be inquired? My answer
is this. 'JMiis island, hidtlen in one of the bays of lloricon,
is an insect city, and more populous tlian was Rome in the
days of her glory. There the honeybee has his oaken tower,
the wasp and humble-bee their grassy nests, tlie spider his
den, th(! butlerily his hammock, the grassho])per his domain,
the beetle and cricket and hornet their decayed stump, and
the toiling ant her palace of sand. There tiiey were born, there
they llourish and multiply, and there they die, symbolizing the
career and destiny of man. I was a " distinguished stranger"
in that citv, and 1 must confess that it jiratilied my ambition
to be welcomed with sucii manifestations of regard as the
inhabitants thought proper to besU)W. My approach was
heralded by the song of a kingly bee; and when I had thrown
myself upon a mossy baidv, multitudes of people gathered
round, and, with their eyes intently lixed upon me, stood
still, and let " expressive silence muse my praise." To the

»j

THE DEATH.

" ii:itivos," I \v:is einpli:itic;illy :i sourco of tistoiiisliinciit. and
as 1 wished to uathor iii.stnictioii from \\w iiK'idcnt, I woiulerod
ill my heart whether I woidd he a luf/i/iirr mail if my preseiiec
in a linman eity shouhl create a kindred exeitement. .Vl
any rate it would he a " irreat exeitement on a small capital."

While (|iii(!tlv eatinij inv dinner this noon in the shadv
recess of an island near lilack Mountain, 1 was startled hy
the yell of a pack of hounds eomini; down one of its ravines.
I knew that the chase was after a deer, so I waited in hreath-
Icss anxiety for his appearance, and \\\v. minutes hail hardly
elapsed hefore 1 discovered a noi)le huck at hay on the ex-
treme summit of a hhi if which extended into the lake. There
were five doirs yelpini; ahout him, hut the '' anih'red monarch"
fouidit them like a hero. Ills hoof was the most danirerous
\veapon he could wield, and it seemed to me that the earth
actually tremhled ev(!ry time that he stru(dv at his enemies.
Presently, to my (rreat joy, one of the hounds was killed, and
another so disahled, that he retired from the contest. But
the hunters made their appearance, and I knew that the
scene would soon come to a trauic close, and when the !)U(dv
heheld them, I could not but helieve that over his lace a
"tablet of (ffronizhiii; thouirhts was traced," lor he fell upon
his knees, then made a sudden whc(.'l, and with a frialitful
bound, as a ball J);iss(mI throuah his heart, clearetl the roi'k
and fell into the lake below. 'J'he waters closed ov(u' him,
and methouirlit that the waves of lloricon aiul the leaves of
the i'orest murmured a re([uiem above the grave of the wil-
derness king. 1 turned away and partly resolved that I
would never again have a dog for my friend, or respiu-t the
character of a hunter, but then I looked into the crystal waters
of the lake, and thought of the bcauL in my own eye, and
stood convicted of a kindretl erueltv.

A TOLU TO THK KIVKR SACJ.JKNAY.

V ^

OiH! ol llic iiiosi siiiLHilar ])rr('ipir(>s ovcrlookiiiir Iloricoii
is nhonl liv(; miles from the outlet, ami knouii as lioirers'
Slide. It is some four liiimlred feet hiifli, ami at one })oiiit
not a jissiire or sj)ri}r can he discovered to mar tin; polished
surface of the rock till it reaches the water. Once on a time
in the winter, the said l^»lrers was pursued hy a hand of
Indians to this spot, Mlien, after throwinir down his knapsack
he carelullv retraced the steps of liis snow-shoes for a short
(hstance, and descendiii!^ the hill l)y a circuitous route, con-
tinu(,'d his course across the frozen lake. The Indians, on
cominjr to the jumpinu-olf jdace, discovered their enemy on
tlie icy j)lain ; hut when they saw the netrlected kna])sack
below, and no siLnis of returning; iootsteps where they stood,
tliey thought the devil was in the man, and gave up the
pursuit.

The most famous, aiul one of the most beautiful islands in
this lake, is J)iamond Island, so called from the fact that it
abounds in crystalized (}uartz. it is jialf a mile in length,
but the last j)lace which would be thought of as the scene; of
a battle. It is memorable for the attack made by the Ameri-
cans on die IJritirii, who had a garrison there, durinir the
Kevolution. TJie American detachment was coinmaiuled by
Col. IJrown, and being (dated with his recent triumphs on
Lake Chami)lain, he resolved to attack Diamond Island. The
batde was bloody, a. id tlie British fouirht like brave men
"long and well ;" the Americans were defeated, and this
misfortune was Ibllowed by the sullerings of a most painl'ul
retreat over the almost impassable mountains between the
liake and what is now Whitehall. AVhile wandering about
the island it was a dillicidl matt(>r for me to realize that it
liad ever resounded with the roar of cannon, the dismal wail
of war, and the shout of victory. That spot is now covered
with woods, whose shadowy groves are Uic abode of a thou-

FRFXCII MOUNTAIN.

sniul birds, forovor siiiLniiLf :i soiiij of ponce or lovr, ;ts *' tc
rondriiiii llir anii)ilioii and crucltv of man.

In tlic vicinity of Frrnfli Mountain is an island crl«'l)r.it«pd
as tlic hurial-plact! of a rattlesnake hunter, named IJeldeti.
From all that I can learn, he must have heen a strauire mortal
indeed. His birth-place and early liistory were alike un-
known. When he first made his apj)ear;»nce at this lake,
liis only companions w(^re a bi-otherhood of rattlesnakes, by
exhibitinj^ which he professed to have obtained his livinff; and
it is said that, durin<r the remainder of liis lite, he ac(juired
a handsome sum of money by selliiiL'' the oil and (^all of his
favorite reptile. And I have recently been told that the pre-
sent market price of a fat snake, when dead, is not less than
half a dollar. Another mode peculiar to old Helden for
makinir money, was to sulfer himself to ])e bitten, at some
tavern, after which he would return to his cabin to npply the
remedy, when he would come forth airain just as jrood as new.
But he was not always to be a solejnn triller. For a week
liad the old man been missino-, aiul on a pleasant Auirust
morninsx, his body was found on the island alluded to, sadly
mutilated and bloated, and it was certain that he had died
actually surrounded with rattlesnakes. His death bed be-
came his grave, and rattlesnakes were his only watchers ; —
thus cndeth the story of his life.

But this reminds me of two little adventures. The other
day as I was sealed near the edjre of a sand bar, near the
mouth of a l)rook, sketchin<^ a sfi'oup of trees and the sunset
cloutls beyond, I was startled by an immense black snake,
that landed at my side, and pursued its way directly under
my leffs, upon which my drawin<i;-book was restiuL''. Owing
to my perfect silence, the creature had j)robably looked upon
me as a mere stump. lUit what was my surprise a few mo-
ments after, when re-seated in the same place, to lind another

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAfU KXAY,

i 1

|j \

snake, and lliat a laroe spotted adder, passiii}]^ aloiiix tlie same
track tli(! loiiiH^r had pursued. The iirsl iVijiht liad ahnost
disahh'd iiic iVom usiuii the j)eiieil, hut when the second came,
1 nave a histy ycdl, and ibrirotlul of tlie line arts, started for

lonie o

n ti

i(! keen run.

At another time when returnin<( iVom a lishin»>- excursion,
in a hoat accompanied hy a couj)le of " jrreen-iiorns,'" we

discovert (1 on Ilie water, near

OtlLHie

ountam, an immense

rattkisnake with liis liead turned towards us. As the oars-
man in the how of tiie hoat struck at him witli Jiis oar, the
snake coihui round it, and the fool was in the very act of (h'op-
pinii' the (h'vilisli thinjj- in my lap. 1 had heard the creature
rattle, and not knowini,^ what 1 did, as he hunix suspended
over me, overhoard I went, and did not look l)eliind until I
liad reached the land. The consecpience was, that for one
while 1 was perfectly disirusted even with liak(> lloricon,
and resolved to leav(! it without delay. 'J'he snake was killed
without doiiio- any harm, liowever, hut such a hlowiiii!' up as
1 gave the grei'n-h(H'n actually made his hair stand straiiiht
with fear.

One more snake story, and I will conclude : On the north
side of \M.u-k Mountain is a cluster of some half dozen
jiouses, in a vale, which spot is called the IJosom, hut from
what cause I do not know. 'J'he presidinfT <reniuses of the
place are a hand of jrirls, weiiihinjr two hundred j)()unds
apiece, who farm it with their fathers for a livini>-, hut whose
principal (tinuscmcut is rattlesnake huntinir. 'I'heir favorite
play-ij;round is the; notorious cliif on Toniiue Mountain, where
they no with na.ked feet (rowinjr their own l)oats across the
lake), and j)ull out by their tails from the rocks the j)retty
playthinus, and, snappinn- them to death, they lay them away
In a basket as trophies of their skill. I was told that in one
day last year they killed the incredible number of elevcMi
fiiindred. What delicious wives would tlu>se lloricon ladies

MrniTATlONS.

mak". Sinrc llic I'lorida Indians hav(^ boon drivoii tVom thoir
couiilrv 1)V 1)l()()d-lu)nii(ls, would il not \)r a cood idea lor
Coniircss to nocun* tlir services of [\\vsc amazons for tlu»
jMirpMsc of ('Xt(n'miiialin<,»- tlio rattlesnakes upon our moun-
tains. This latter nioveiuent would he the most ridiculous,
hut ihe inhumanity of the former is without a j)arallel.

A clear and traiKjuil summer ninht, and ] am alone on the
pehhly heacdi of this parairon of lakes. The countless hosts of
lieaxcn are hiMUiinir upon mc with a silent jov, and more
impressive and holy than a poet's dream are the surroundini^
niouniains, as they stand redectcMl in the unrulUed waters.
Listen! what sound is that so like the wail of a spirit .' Only
a loon, the loncdy nia'ht-watcher of lloricon, whose midan-
clioly moan, as it breaks th<^ profound stillness, carries my
fancy back to the olden Indian times, ere the white man
had crossed the ocean. All these mountains and this heaii-
tilul lake were then the heritaire of a brave and noble-hearted
peopl(% who made war only upon the denizens of the forest,
whose lives were j)eaceful as a dream, and whose manly
forms, decorated with the j)lumes of the eas»le, the feathers
of the s( arlet bird, and lln; rolx^ of {\\c boundinir slag,
tended but to make the scenery of the wilderness beautiful as
an earthly J'lden. Here was the (piicH wiirwam villaire, and
there the; secluded abodt^ of the thouubtful (diief. Here,
uni!iolcsted, the Indian (diild j)layed with {\\o. spotted fawn,
and the "Indian lover wooed his dusky mate;" here the
Indian hunter, in the " sunset of his life," watidu'd with holy
aw(! the sunset in the west, and here the ancient Indian
prophetess sunii' her un(!Outh but relinious (diant. (ione — all,
all u'one — and the desolate creature of the waves, now |)ealing
forth another wail, seems the only memorial that they have
left Ixdiind. There — my recent aspirations are all (pielled,
I can walk no further to-night; — there is a sadness in my

A TOrR TO THE RIVER SAGIENAV.

•soul, and T must seek my home. It is such a hlessed iiicrht
It seems almost sinful tliat a blight should rest on the spiriJ
ot man; yet on mine a gloom will sometimes fall, nor can I
tell whence the cloud that makes me wretched.

CHAPTER V.

Tlie Sr.'inion r(jmitry — Scaroon Liiko I'ko llshini; l)y torchlight —
Tnjiit h^llillL^ — Lyndsay's Tavorii — I'arailux Lake.

Ijj}iiUaijs Tai'cni, Jum\

Emi'tyinc; iiUothc Hudson River, about fiftecii miles north
of Cileu's Falls, is quite a lartro stream, sometimes called the
East Hrancliorthe Hudson, hut generally known as Searooii
River. Its extreme lenirtli is not far iVom tifty miles. It
is a elear, eold, and rapid stream, winds through a moun-
Minous country, and has rather a ileep channel. The valley
throutrh whicii it runs is somewhat cultivated, but the moun-
tains which frown upon it on either side, are covered with
dense forests. The valley of the Scaroon abounds in beau-
tiful lakes ami brooks ; ami as I have explored them pretty
thorougidy during the past week, I will now record the result
of my observations.

Tlu! most })rominent pictorial feature of this region is
Scaroon liake, through which the river of that name forms a
channel. It is [vn miles in leniidi and average's about oiu' in
width, lilxcepting a little hamlet at its head, and two or
three farms at the southern extremity, it is yet surrounded

* The \\(ii-il Schrooii is Ijail F.iiL^h-h liir th" huhaii wnrd Stiaroon, the
meaning of whii'h is — -^ ihilil of lln mountains." Thi' rivrr was lirigiiially
nunietl by an Algonquin chief after u favorite daughter.

A TOUR TO TIIF RIVKR SAOI EXAY.

II I

will) ;i wilderness of iiioiintaitis. 'V\\<\ \vat(M's tlicrcof arc
(1('('|) aiiil clear, and well supplied wilh lisli, ol" which the
salmon trout and |)ike arc the most valuahle. The trout are
more abundant lieri; than in Lake (Jeorjre, hut owinir to the
prevailini,^ custom of sj)earini: tiiem in the autumn, they are
rapidly hecomintr extinct. I made a d(>sp(>rate ell'ort to
capture one as a specimen, hut without success, thounli I
was told that they varied in weiij^hl from ten to lirteen j)ounils.
My ellorts, however, in takinjr pike were more encourafrinj^.
liut, hel'ore givinir my experience, I must mention an inte-
resting jact in natural history. Previous to the year 1810,
Scaroon Lake was not known to contain a single pike, but
during tbat year, some hall" dozen males and females were
brou<rht from Lake Champlain and deposited therein, since
which Unw. they have multiplied so rapidly as to be quite
abundant, not only in Scaroon Lake, but in all the neiiihbor-
ing waters, and as they are frequently taken weighing some
twenty pounds, the fact seems to be established tliat this fish
grows (juite rapidly, and is not of slow growth, as many
naturalists have supposed.

IJut to my pike story. A number of lumbermen were
going out for the ])urpose of taking pike by torch-light, and I
was fortunate enough to secure a seat in one of the three Hat
boats which coutaincnl the lishermen. It was a superb night,
and the lake was without a rijiple. Our torches were made
of" fat pine," as it is here called, and my polite friends taking
it for granted that T was a Jiovice in the spearing business,
they cunningly award(Ml to me the dullest spear in their
possession, and gave jne the poorest position in the boat. I
said nothing to all this, l)ut inwardly resolved that I would
give them a salutary lesson, if possible. I fished from nine
until twelve o'clock, and then left mv friends to continue the
sport. The entire number of pike taken, as I found out in the
morniii'S was thirteiMi, and as fortune would have it, four of

A MOONLIGHT SrKNF.

arc
the

I arc
) the
V are
rt to
mil I

airinil.

II inte-
1810,

ivcs hut
s were
1, since
c quite
>i(Thbor-
0- some
his lish
many

>n ^vere
it, and 1
lu'ce Hat
|rh iiiilht,
•vc made
[\^ taking
business,
in their
hoat. I
I would
I'roni nine
iimue the
out in the
il, four of

thi< iiumhcr were capUircd l)y inyscH". in spile of my poor
spear. I (lid not take tlie larizcsl tisli. uhirli weiiihed eiiiliteen
pounds, hn: the lireatcst luiinher, with wiiich success 1 was
I'ullv sati>lied. — The cllect ol" my i^noil \\\rk was iiiiex peeled
to m\' companions, hut nralilV iiiif to nu', for there was after-
wards a strife hetween them as to who shouKl show me the
most attention in the wav of pilotiiiLT I'le about the country.
This htth' adveiitiu'(> tauiiht me the importance of understand-
iiiL^ e\('n the vaL''ahon(l art of speariiii!",

'J'hi' e\cnl of that niiihl, how(>ver, wliich ailorchal me the
purest enjovmeiit. was the witm'ssinsi" of a mooidiii'ht sciuu;,
immeihatelv after leaxiiiir the lai;e shore for the iuu, where
1 was tarr\ iuiT. I'eiore me, in wihl ami sohunu heauty, hiy
the southern po'Mion ctl' the Scaroon, on whose l)o>om were
glifUnii tl,i,e spearnu'ii, hohhnu' hijrh above their heads their
hni^e torches, which thicw a spectral i^hirc, not otdy npon
the water, hut n|!on the swarthy I'orins watchiun- for their
.lust at this moment, an immense cloud of foii broke

)rev

away, ami ilirectly ai)Ove the siinnnit ol the opposite nH)un-
tain, the (dear, full moon made its appearance, and a lliou-
sand fantastic liu:nres, born of the foLi", were pictured in the
sky. and appeared extremely brilliant under the (diulirence
f the ridiu!! planet; while the zenith of sky vas of a deej)
l)hie, (doudless, hut completely spantiled witli stars. And
^v]lat lireatly added to the maiiic of tlu; scene, w^as tin; dis-
mal scream of a loon, which canu; to my ear from a remote
portion of tli(> lake, yet covered with a heavy I'on;.

vi.^'ini' from the western marain of Scaroon Lake, is (luile

a lofiy iiKumtain. which was oiu'c paintetl by 'JMiomas Cole,
ami l»y liiin named Scaroon Mountain, 'i'lunx! is nothin<r
parti(ailarly imposinn- about it, but il commamls un uncom-
monly line prospect of the surroiindinjr country. When I
lirst came in sii>ht of this mountain, it struck ine as an ohl
acquaintaiiee, and I reined in my liorsc for the purpose of

A TOTR TO THE RIVER SAGUENAY.

invrsli<r:ilinfr its fGatures. Bfforc I rosumcd my coiirsr. 1
conchult'd that I was standiiiir on llic very spot whence
tli(i artist liad taken liis ori<nnal sketch of the scene, ])v
which circinnstanco I was convinced ot" the lidelity of liis
pencil.

'J'he larg^est island in Scaroon Jiake lies near the northern
extreniity, and studs the water like an emerald on a field of
blue. It was purchased, some years ajro, by a ixentleinan of
New N'ork, named Keland, who has built a summer residence
upon it, for the accommodation of himself and Iricnds.

Emptying into the Scaroon Kivcr, just below the lake, is
a superb mountain stream, known as Trout Jirook. It is
thirty feet wide, tw(dve miles lonir, and comes rushing down
the mountains, formiufj a thousand waterfalls and pools, and
iillin<r its narrow valley with an evcM-lastinuf roar of music.
Not oidy is it distinguished lor the quality and nu.ml)er of its
trout, but it possesses one attraction which will pay the
tourist for the weary tramp he must underi^o to explore its
remote^ recesses. I alhuU; to what the people about here call
" the Stone Bridge." At this point, the wild and dashing
stream has formed a channel directlv throu<^h the solid moun-
tains, so that, in llshini^ down, the angler suddenly finds him-
self standing upon a })ile of dry stones. The extent of this
natural l)ridge is not more than twenty or, perhaps, thirty
feet, but the wonder is, that the unseen channel is sufliciently
large to admit the i)assagc of the largest logs which the lum-
bermen iloat down the stream. I might also add, tliat ai the
foot of this bridge is one of the llnest pools imaginable. It is,
perhai)s, one hundred leet lonir, and so very deep that the clear
water appears quite black. This is the finest spot in the whole
brook for trout, and my luck there may be described as follows :
I had basketed no less than nine h:df-poundcrs, when my lly
was suddenly seized, and my snell snapped in twain by the
fierceness of his leaps. The consequence of that defeat was, that

TROUT I ISIIING.

liim-
ihis

liirty
lUly

llum-

II the

U is,

clcur

^vliolc

llows :

rtV iiy
bv the
is,that

I resolved to capiiirf th(> trout, it" I li.id to rcniain \\\o\'c :ill tii'ilit.
1 lii(Mi riiivMc'kcd til.! niouiitaiii sidf lor a li\iiiLi- bait, and,
with thf aid of iiiv '*oiii[)aiiioii, siiccccdcd in captiiriuiX ^i
small moiHc, and just as the t\vilii:ht was ('(Miiin'i nii, I tied
the little jellow to luv hook, and threw hitii on the water.
He swam across in line st\ le, hut w hen he reafdied the cen-
tre of the pool, a lanje trout Icajieil eoinpletid v out of his
clement, and in deseendinLT, seized the m(Mise, and tlu' res'alt
was, that 1 hroke mv rod, hut eaUL'hi the trout, and though
the in!Mi>e was seriouslv injured, I had the pleasure ot' a^aiii
L^iviuii' him his liherty.

'I'he largest trout that I killeil weij^hed nearly a pound, and
thouLrh he was the eause ol' mv reeeiviuL'' :i duekini:-, he af-
forded me .some sport, and L^i've m^ a new ide;i. \\ !ien I.
lirsi hooked him, 1 stood on tln^ \'er\' mari^in of the ^'rean1.
knee deep in a hoo-, and just a-; 1 was a!)out to basket him,
he ijave a sudden, leap, (deared himsfdf, and fell into the wa-
ter, (iuitdv as thouLdit I made an t'llbrt to rescue him, huf
ill doiiiir so, lost mv balance, and wa.s plavino- the part of i
turtle in a tub of water. 1 then becanu' j)oetii-ad, aiul thouifht

ould ne\'er do to aive it U[) so.

1 aft

er waitinii' some

fifteen m.nutes, I returned ami tried for the lost trout airiiin.
I threw my lly some tw(>nty feet above the place where j
had tumlthnl in, and reca[)tured the identical ilsh whudi I
had lost. I r(M'oo-|iiz(id hiin l)v b.is havimi :i torn and bleed-

itiir mouth.

'JM

lis circumstance convinced iiu that trou

It, lik

many of the sons of men, have short memories, and also
that the individual in ([uertion was a [lerfecl Jiicdudieu or
General Tavlor in his wav, for he seemed to know no su(di

rd as fail. As to the trout that I did not capturi', 1 \erily
believe that ho must have weiiihed two pounds ; but as he
was, probably, a superstitious irentlemaii, he tliouuht it the
better part of valor, somewhat like ISaiita Anna, to treat the
steel of his enemy with contempt.

A TOUR TO THE RIVKR SAGT'ENAY.

The brook of wliicli I li:iv(; hocii spoakiiiiT, is onlv twenty-
live miles iVom Lake llorieoii. :ui(i iiiii|iiL'Stion;ibly one of
the best streams Ibr ihe aiiirler in ibe Searoon valh^y. 'i'hc
Trout JJrook Pavilion, at tbe month of it, ke|)l by one Loek-
wood. is a comforlable inn ; ami bis riijbt band man, named
Ki|»j), is a very line fellow and a ^('iiiiim' aiiLder.

S|)'akimi of tbe above iVieiids, reminds me of another, a
line man, muned liyndsey, who kecjpetb a tavern, about ten
miles iiortli of Searoon iiake. Ills dwelliiitj; is (hdiiibtl'nlly
sitnali'd in ;b(3 centre of a deep valley, and is a nice and
('onv( nient place [n stop at, for those who are fond of fishintr,
and admire romantic scenery. His jainily, iiudiidinir his wife,
two dauubters and one' son, lujt oidy know bow to make their
IVionds comfortable, but they secnn to have a passion ibr
doiuii" kind deeds. During' my stay at this j)lace, 1 bail the
pleasure of witnessint^' a most int(!restinu: game, which seems
to be ])(>culiar to this part of the (,'ountry. It was played
Avith the common ball ami by one iuindred sturtly farmers.
Previous to tbe time alluded to, fifty Searoon players had
challeniied an equal number ol' j)layers from a neighboring
village named Moriali. 'I'hc conditions were that the de-
feated party should pay Ibr a dinner to be given by my friend
Jiyndsey. They commenced playing at nine o'clock, and the
game was eiideti in about three liours, the Searoon, j)arty hav-
ing won by about ten counts in live humlred. 'IMie majority
of the players varied from thirty to thirty-live years of age,
though some of the most expert of them were verging upon
sixty years. 'I'liey played with the impetuosity of sidiool
boys, and there were some admirable feats performed in the
WAV of knocking and catching the ball. Some of the men
could number their acres by thousands, and all of them were
accustomed to severe labor, and yet they thought it absolutely
necessary to particij)ate occasionally in this maidy and
fatiguing sport. The dinner passed olf in line style, and

LAKK rARADOX.

I ad
•iug
dc-

heiid
llhe
hav-

ority
age,
upon

l'\\00l

u iHe
men
wore

)\uiely

was sj)ii'('(l 1)V maiiv ;i'iri('ii1tiiral nnrrdotr?:. niul as the sun
was scitiii'i. tilt" parties scparaird in llu," host of spirils and
ri'tiirncd lo llicir several lionies.

For Tear lliat I should lorL't't niv diitv, T would now intro-
duce to niv reader a slieel ol" water einl)osoiued aniouLl tlicso
iiiouutains, \\lii(di nlories in the naini^ of Fiake Paradox.
Ilow it eaiiie hy that (pieer title, I was not ahle to learn, hut
this I know, that it is one ol' the most heautiCul lakes I have
ever seen. It is li\t' miles loiin-. and surronntled with uneul-
tivated mountains, e\eei)tii:!j- at its loot, where opens a heauti-
t'ul j)lain, liiLddv ('idti\;!ted and dotted with a variety of rude
hut exei'ediuLilv ('(unfertahle laian houses. The shores of
\u\kr Paradox are ro(d\y, the water deep ami (dear, ahound-
inir in li^li. and the lines of the mountains are pietures((ue to
an uneomuKMi deL!re(\

IJnt it is linm that 1 shoidd turn iVom particulars to a oiau'ral
description of the Scaroon Counirv. — 'I'houiih this is an
aLiricuitural region, the two principal arti(des ot' export are
lumher and ircui. Ol" the lormer t!u; i)rinci[)al varieties
are pine, hendock and spruce, v.wd two estahlishnu'Uts lor
the manufacture of iron are ahundanlly suj)plie(l with ore
from the surroundin(r nH)untains. Potatoes of the linest ([uali-
ty llourish here, also wheat and corn. The people are mostly
Anmricans, intelliticnt, virtuous ami industrious, and are as
f?onifortablL' and happy as any in the State.

and
•and

ClIATTEK VI.

Thp AV^^'n<l^a•^^^•">n1;>■.l■.^■

. 1 ,.,-, ||,e extreme

l,.an,il.on, and .bout lov.y " '^J ^^ ,„„,.„,, ,ec> in Wei.U',
•n..v vavy iron, Hv.. ^^-^^''^'^ ^^;:^, ,,,, den.o fures.s.
„„,.\vl.l. low '■^'■^i',"""'' J! ,^,e„sivc wiUlcruoss region m
Tlu V lor.1 it over . ,o "■" ' ^.^^uUv penormcd a pilgrim-

n<TO -imoiv'- them, I i^^'^^ »''"» ,. .
l^:;:ana.n.araanrin.,ny<.H;--^^^^,,,^,„,.,.^^^

,0 U:ave m. nvail >■'>--•;;;„;,„,, ill be ahie to V-re

roon. If I'o-'""" """^;; o, perhaps obtain a sea.

,,,,.,.,„ tal.e him nrlK. U"> J^_^^ ^^^^^

in a Uunber uagon ; lj» " ' .^^ f,,,„„c Avas non-

1US1...S. W''t'"f', ';:;,lwmotp,oonlbo.,sho
oon,n,i.tal ; lor -bile ^\^^ "^ .onnvanions, wUo were

,.,,piiea .ne with ^l'-;<"^'^ " Viencll and have a few

THE nOREAS KIVER.

Sca-
. hire
a scat
3U\c of
s iiou-
ol, s^^c
10 were

a lew
3 of my

Irifiids 'hoih of whom wvvv youiijr iijcii), u:is a fanner, who
carried a rille, ;iiul ihe other a iravelhiii( coimtry imisiciau,
who carried a luldle. (Jiir first day's tramj) took us ahoiil
lifleen miles, thnuiuh a liiily, tliicklv wooileil, and liouseU\ss
wiklerness, to the IJoreas River, where we found a ruined
loiT shantee, in whii'h we etuiehided to sj)eiul llu.' niiiht. A\ e
readied tliis U)nely sj)ot at ahout three o'cloek in the after-
noon ; and havinu' })revi(»usly heeii tokl that the IJoreas was
famous lor trout, twodl'us siarletl after a nu'ss of lish, while
tlic lithUer was ai)[)(Uiiti'd U) l!ie ollice of wood-ehopper to the
CXpi chtion. The IJoreas at this j)oint is ahout one hundreil
leet hroad, — w iiids llirouuh a woody vaHev, and is eoid, rapid,
and (dear. The eniiri' river does not dill'er maleriahy, as I
nnderstaiul, from tiie j)oi!il alluded l(». lor it waters an un-
know n wihlerness. 1 hrihed my farmer friend to iisri ml the
river, and haviiiLi" j^oid^i ted a \ariety of dies, I started down
the stream. I j)roeee(K'd near half a mile, when I eame to
a still water pool, which seemed to he (juite extensive, and
very deep. At tlie head (d' it, midway in the stream, was an
immense i)oulder, whiidi 1 sueceeiled in surmountiuii-, and
whence I threw a red ha(dvle lor upwards ol' three; hours. 1
never saw trout juni}) more heautifully, ami it was my rare
hick to hasket thirty-four; twenty-one of whi(di averatred
lhree-((uarters of a pound, and the reinaiiiin<r thirteen were
regular two-pounders. Satislied with my hudi, I returned to
the .>ha!iiee, wlu re 1 found my comj)anions ; one of them
silliiiii' belore a hlazini: lii'e and liildlinir, and the other busily
employed in (deaniiiL!' the trout he had taken.

In due time f(dlowed the j)rincij)al e\ ent of tlu-' day, wlii(di
consi>led in co(dviiiu' and eaiinn' a wilderness supper. We
had hrouifht a supply of pork and hread, and eacdi (nie haviiuf
prepared for liimself a j)air oi' wooden forks, we j)roceeded
to roast our trout and pork hel'ore a huire lire,usinir the drip-
\ni\)l^ of the hitter for sea.sonini,s and a leather cup of water

, -ro.R TO THF. nlVKU SA.rKNAV.

Hon,! ..H.lcl upon tl.c .1 urn ^ ^^^^ ^^^^^^_ ,^,,,„, ,„^, ,

deci. slnmbor. .( j,,eami«? of u fC't^""

i sho.-, tnnc uU..- "-'" ^ ;;; i,,,,,„,„,,y, 1 «.s au-.U-

F-'''-'->-''^''''''''"'To:ll "I- '1- -'••''• ^"""'
'■ncl l.y u foo-s.-p on ,..■ U ^^^^^ ^„^, ,,„, ,Ununcr

„p,.n n,y oyo., l.»t -'"''' ,;"■,'„ 1 |u.!a ,ny m-o-.ul., and
„ .,>n..xpinn.cnaK.ron.luU-^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^.^^ ,^ ,„„, ,,H

somcthin,' a lU.lo nyn-e --X' an.- .,,^,,,,„^.iy ,hovl iMi.c,

p,,v npon onr sU.uUn- aoo, ^^^^^^^ j ,,^,j ,,,,,,1.

•riiov ihonffl.t il must ^e .i «o , ^^ ^^,,, ,e-

• .-n l,nn uw.v, >'- •■;--'; "lu r.nuer shonUl fu-e
V,s vale in an. au-ccM.on ot l>c mv ^^^^^^ ^^..^^^ ^,,,„

nuiou .a. anly P-''""""';,,, ,;„ Uc^os oC -he aavenu.ve
,i,h,oa, a,c vale -l-;-^; ; »' „, ,,,„,„ «l.eve we fooua a

"-■'•''-' """ '"" "; ■ 1" u aav UaeUs ol' what we .up-
few avops or bl..oa, ana -l '- ;^,_^,, „„, ,„,,,„■ tlu-n com-

^^-^■'' "' T::X\o ,11 a rn-e, when we a.un Un-ew

::;:.Xs upon au, l-";-;;,Xt ,-. au^y, ana m less .Inu,

The Cuiaiev allenaea a .hi ay ,^^,^ ,,,,,,,. '1 Uo

,.en,y nunutes, he ha u ^ua aj-^ ^^_^ ^,„,,,,,ng nviln-

bv-aiiant ana lauglung '^''^ " j i,., Uvslvument and eo,u-
ence upon hUnevvcs, that he se>/.e

A MOI RNFIL SOSCf.

to
re-
\rc

\en
liUire
n(\ ''^
sup-
tom-
hrew

than
The

.1 coiu-

iiK'iU'cd pliiyiiiir, paiMly tor ilic purpose of k(('i)inL'' f^H' thr
wilil :iuiiii:ils, l)iit mcslly lor his own iiuuiscmciit. 'J'hon
lavinii aside his rKhhe. lie henaii to siuir a varictv of nil-
couth, as well a> plaiiiiive soiiirs, oiu' ol which was vaLHie,
hut niouruliil iu seuliiiient, and nion^ wild in nu-lody. as 1
lliouuht at th( lime, than anythiui:' I had ever helore heard.
1 could not liiid out hy whoui il was writteu, or what was
its exact iiiiixuM. lait in the louei\' place whi're we were
slecpitiLT, ami at that hour, il made a very ileep iiupressiou on
my mind.

The !)ur(h'ii of the sonir ^vas as lolhnvs, and was iu keep-
mix with ihe picture whi(di the miustrel, the ftreliiiht, and the
rude cahiu preseuled.

\\ !• [initcl in .-ilriicc. \\i' [larti'd at night,

( )n ilio Iiaiilv- (if lii;it 'niicly nxcr,

Wln-rc tin- ^li;i(l(i\\ y trci'> tlicir li'Ui^li- unite,

\N (■ met. ;nnl we piuti'il liirrVL'r: —

The niiilii liiril piuii:. and the stars ahuve

1 < iM many a ti mi'liinu' stdry

Ol' liicnds Inni,'' pa.-sril tn the nian.-i'.ins oCrf-t,

Will If ilii' ^(lnl wears her mantle nt' ;:l(iry.

We I'aited in >ilonce; dur elieek- were wet
Hy the tears that wen' jiast eontroliini: ; —
We viiu(>d we wnnld never, iid ne\er liiriret,
And thd-c V(i\\-s at the time- were eonxjIiiiL^ ; —
But the lips that eeheed my viiws
Are as cold as that jdiiely ri\er ;
The S|)arkling vyr, the spirit's shrine,
lla- >hniuded its lire Inrever.

And now on the iui(hiiglit sky I lor.k,
My eyes trrow full with weepin;:, —
Maeh -tar to me is a seah'd l)oolc.
Some tale-ul' that loved one keeiiincr.

,, TO.R TO TllE RIVEU SAO'KNAY.

r„H>i 1— "•' 1 '-:-'">• •"■

„,,„, .na wi.U .lu. r,.mu " \'- ^ ^^,,.,„, „'„, ,„.„..,Uf„s,, (out
a.--»--'^'>-- "':^''';,"bl.-l,-..a,,,u stolon
01- 0... IVW '"'-" -■''"^'' ^"^ '•"" '' ;,' .„u .„a kUl.-a . large

aun.. tiu- "i^''-0 .;.>■ ;'''-'-.,„,,,..„ ,.a MH;
„.„.., ,„a 1 .o.a< a sk... . o ^^^^^.,^^^ ^^,,, „,,,,a

"->■ "'■ ■'•^■"^'" -;• ^t:;^ e " a,so„v...a :> »noo, .1. .
,ve luKU-a.a. ami ,.av..au u, ^ ^^_^^^^ ^^^^^^

i-ce.'.--'-''"V'"'';:;:::, :,,,,. .Iroaa, ana a.V.ovaik.

■„,, ,,ou, ion,- n,ae.. ---;;;:;;, ,„■ .,n,.h .as a .oU-

:::n::r ';:::;.-;- - ...o.., .. a,. .. a.

,,,,„,„, „.. Moo.e Lake J' ^'^^^ „„,,;. ,„„,„,,„. .Inc..

Mooso l.ak>- In- at lu ,„„„ntains, and thf.

foumain Uoaa .a the » "W « , ,,,,, i„ ,„tnT

St. .,a.n.n,.,.. '^ '"■''' '';,;'. '.houotn is ....1 .uh

.lK.r.Mnaylu-o,M.atonuxu . ^^,^^^,,,,.,.,^,, ,,,„.

,,,,Uosana,a,.atln.uat.tM. . 1.. >^^^^.^^^^^^

sidi'viug

lis M^'- 1 '^^

DEATH OF A PEER.

lit SIX

1(1 llu-
U) the
cntiri^
a with
('i)ii-
;m any

lake in this wiKlrnirss. and it is also rrl(^hratr(l as a Matprin^
phicT lor dcvY ;uul iiioosu. In lishiui: from llic shore, one of
our party caUL^iit no hss than forty pounds of trout in ahout
two hours. There ^^■ere two varieties, and they varieil from
one to two pounds in weiLrht. Our <rui(k; to this hd<e, where
we eiu'amped for one niLlht, was Sl(,-u!»en Iltnvitt, the ixeejier
of the Neweomh I'^arm, who is quiu' a hunter. 'I'liis woods-
man L^ot the notion into his licad that he must have a veni-
son steak for his supper. WC had ah'eady s(mmi some half (h)zen
tleer walkintr alonir the opposite margin (»f the lake, hut SU'uheii
told us iliat he would w ail uuiil alter dark lo ea|i!ure his i.rame.
lie also told us that the deer were in the hahii of xisiiini!; the
wildiM' lakes of this rcLfiiui at niuht, for the juirjtosc of cscap-
inu' the tormeutiuii ihes, and as he sj)oke so eonlideiillv of
V iiat he iuteiuled lo accomplish, we awaiU'd his ellort \\ ith a
decree of anxiety. Sotui as the (juiel uiiiht had fairlv set in,
lu' shipped him-^elf on hoard a wooilen canoe, (a rickels allair,
oriLiinally he([uealhed to this lake hv some departed Indian,)
in the how of \\ inch was a lire jack, or torch hohler. Sejia-
ra.tinii' this machine lr(mi himself, as he sat in the centre of
the canoe, was a kind of screen made cd' hai'k. which was
sullicii ntly ele\aled lo allow him to lire his i:un from uiuh'r-
lU'ath; and in this predicameiil, with a loadeil rille hy his
sitle, dill he paddle into ihe lake. After lhiatin<:- upon the
wa'er for an hour, in perlec! silence, he 'inally heard a sj)Iash-
mii- near the shore, and immediately 1 uhlin^ his londi, he
lioiseh s>|y |)roceeded in the direelion of ihi' smind, w lien he
discovcnd a heautiful deer, slandiiiii knee deep in the water,
and looking at him in stupefied sdence. Tlie poor (Teature
could discover nodiiiin hut the mysterious liolit, and while
slandiiiLr ill ili(. iii()>i inleresiinn attiliidc iinaninahle, llie
hunter raised his rille, and sjioi ii ihrouiji ilu! In art. In half
an luuir from that lime, ilie cai'cass of the deer was iiaiiuini'
on a dry Innh near our camp lire, and I was leclurinn' tho

,^«8^^^

ieze:

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SACUENAV.

I !

liard-lu :iiM('(l Imntcr on llif cruelly of thus capluriiiL'' tin; iii-
iiocciil crciitiircs of llio Ibrcst. To nil my rcniarks, how-
ever, he replied, "They were i:iveii us for food, and il mat-
ters not how we kill them.''

Lako Delia, tiirouirh whitdi you liave to pass in jroiuLT to
Moose Tiake. lies ahout two miles west of tlu^ Neweomh
Farm. It is four miles lonu^and less than oiiemil(> in width,
and ('om{)lelelv surrounded with wood-crowned hills. Near
the central portion, this lake is quite narrow, and so shallow
that a rude hridne lias hecm thrown across lor the accommo-
dation of the Farm people. 'I'he water under this hridiic; is
only ahout four feet deep, and this was the only spot in the
lake where 1 lollowed my favorite recreation. I visited it on
one occasion, with my companions, late in the afternoon,
wIkmi the wind was l)lowin<r, and we enjoyed rare sjiort in
an<rlin^'' for salmon trout, as well as a laru'c species of com-
mon trout. I do not know tin; numher that we took, luit I

well rememl»er

that

we iiad more

than we coulil convenicMitly
carry. Usually, the salmon trout are only takcMi in deep

water, hut ni this, and ni

oose

idvc, thev seem to ho

niu(di at home in shallow as in deep water. On one occa-
sion I visited liakc Delia alone at an early hour in the morniiiir.
It so happened, that 1 took a riili; alonu" with i\]v- and while
quietly throwinjr my lly on the old l)rid<,''e, I had an opportu-
nity of usinij; the iiwn to some purpose. .My movements in
that lonely j)lace were so excecnlinuiy still, that even the
wild animals were not disturhed hy my prcv'^eiu'c ; for while
I stood there, a larire fat otter made his appearam-e, and when
he came within shootinir distance, I <ravc him the contents of
my ^un, and he disap|)eared. 1 related the adventure to n>)
companions, on my return to the farm, hut they j)ronounce(l

it a " lish story

Mv veracitx' was vindicated, however,

tor, on the followinir day, they discovered a dead otter on the
lake shore, and coiiclud(Hl that I had told the (ruth.

■'^

■5
■I

THE XKWCOMn FAIOf.

lilc
•tu-

iii
ilic
hilo

icn
s of

iced
vcr,

I
I

T must no! roiicluilc this ciinptcr without Lnvin<ji" my reader
an ;i(l(lili()iial |)arai:raj)li altont the Ncwcoinh l''arm. .My
iVicinl Stciihrn Hewitt's nearest neiuhhor is ei^ht luih's oil',
and as his t'anulv i> small, it mav he suj)j)()S('(l that he h'ads a
retired Hie. One of the days tiiat I si)ent at his house, was
(jnite an eventl'ul one with him, lor a town election was ludd
liiere. 'i'lie electors nwt at i,:ne o"clo(d\, and the poll closed
at ll\c; and as the nuinher 'I votes polled was siiu/i, it may
well he imauinial that the excitmnent was intense. |>nt with
all its loneliness the .\(.'wcomh Farm is well worth visiting, if
lor no other purpose than to witness the j)anorama ol" moun-
tains w lii(di it commands. On exci'v side hut om- ma\' they
he seen, ladinu' aw a\' to miniile their deep hlue with the liirliicr
hue oi' the sk\', hut the (diiet" amonu' them all is old Ta-
hawus. Jviiii: of the Adirondacs. 'I'he country out of whicji
llii.s mountain rises, is an imposiuL'" Alpine wilderness, and as
it has loiiM- since heen ahandoned hy the red man, the solitude
of its deep vallevs and louely lakes for tlu; nn)sl j)art, is now
more impressive than that of the far oil" Ivoeky Mountains.
The nieaniuii of the Indian word 'I'ahawus is .s/,i/ p'u ncs' or
.ski/ sji/i/ff r : and faithfully descrihes the appearance of the
mountain. Its actual ele\ation al)o\e the levid of the s(;:i is
live thousand four hundred and si.\ly-si!ven feet, while that
of .Mo\int \\ ashinoton, in New Hampshire, is onl\ six thou-
sand two humlred and thirtv-lour. makiiiir a diirerem-e of oidy
se\en hundred aud sixtv-seven feet in favor of \\'ashinL''ton.
'I'houiih Tahawus is not (piite so lofiv as its New I'hiiiiaiid
hrother, yet its form is hv far the most j)ictures(jue an<l im-
j)osiui:. Taken together, tlii'V are the hi<^Hiest j)air of nnmn-
tain>^ in the I nited Slates.

IJeforc Lioniiione step further. I must allude to what I deem
tlu' lolly of a certain state ^colonist, in atteuipliuir to name
tin; j)rominent peaks of the Adirondae .Mountains after a i)ro-
therhood of li\iiitr men. If he is to iuive ids way in this

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGUEXAV.

liKittcr, the I)(':uitiriil iianu! of Taliawus will be superseded
l)V tliat (jf Marcv, and several of Taliawus' brethren are
hereafter to he known as Alouiits Seward, Wriirht and Younir.
Now if this hiisiness is not supremely ridiculous, I must con-
fess that 1 ilo not know the meaning of that word. A pretty
idea, indeed, to scatter to the winds the ancient poetry of the
poor Indian, and perj)eluate in its place the names of living
politicians. ]-\)r my ]>art, I airree most decitlcdly with the
older iidiahitants of the Adirondac wiUlerness, who look with
oljvious indillerencc u[»on the attempted usurpation of the
j]Ceolo<ri>t alreadv mentioned.

For iiiu(,' months in the year old Tahawus is covered with
a crown of snow, hut there are spots anionic its fastnesses
where you may irather ice and snow even in the doff days.
The base of this mountain is covered with a luxuriant forest
of pine, spruc(> and hemlock, while the summit is clothed in
a net-work of creepiuir trees, and almost destitute of the
gvvcn which shouUl charactiMMze them. In ascending its
sides when near ilie summit, you are impressed with the idea
that your pathway may be smooth; but as you proceed, you
arc constantly annoyeil l)y [)it-falls, into which your legs arc
foolishly poking themselves, to the great annoyance of your
hack bop.e and other portions of your body which arc
naturally straight.

I ascended Tahawus, as a matter of course, and in making
the trij) t travelled some tweniy miles on foot and through
the pathless woods, employing for the same the better part
of two days. My companion on this expedition was John
Cheney, (of whom I have something to write liereafter,) and
as he did not consider it prudent to spend the night on the

summit, we only spi':it about one hoin* gazing upon the
panorama from the top, and then descended about half way
down the mountain wliere wc built our watch lire. The
view from Tahawus is rather unique. It looks down upon

A MOHT ON TAIIAWUS.

folm

'.ind

the

iho

way

upon

Avliat appears to !)0 an iiniiiliahilctl wildernrss, with inoun-
taiiis, ladiiiL"" lo the sky in every direction, and win re, on a
clear d.iy, you niiiy eount not less than twenty-tour lakes,
ineludinL"" Chainplain, Iloricou, r,()ni,r Lake; and liake Pleasant.
While tryini( to i^o to sleep on the niuhl in question, as
[ lav hy the side; oi' my friend (Jheney, he nave me an
account ot' th(^ manner in which certain distinguished
•gentlemen have asci.'uded Mount 'i'ahawus, lor it must bo
known that he olluMates as the i,nii(h' of all travellers in this
wild rcLiion. Amoni:^ those to whom he alluded wvvo \\vr-
hani anil Cole the artists, and Hotfman and Ileadley ihc
travellers. He told nic that Mr. Iiiaham tainted a nund)crof
timers in makinu;' the ascent, hut hecamc so excited with all
that he saw. In; determined to persevere, and finally succeed-
etl in accomplishiuii; the dillicult task. Mr. Iloll'man, he
said, in spite; of his lameness, would n(»t he persuaded by
words that he could not reach the summit; and when lie
finally discovered that this task was utterly beyond his
accomplishment, ids disappointment scemeil to have no
bouiuls.

The niiiht that [ spent on Tahawus was not distiiiLniished
by any (,'vent more remarkable than a re<:ular built rain-
storm. ()ur canopy was compos(;il of hemlock branches,
and our only covering was a blaid-cet. The storm did not set
in until about midnii,dit, and my lirst intimation of its approach
was the falliuii' of rain drops directly into my ear, as 1 sniiir-
Ued up to my bed-fellow for the purpose of keepinii" warm.
Desperate, indeed, were the ellbrts I made to Ibnret my con-
diticm in sleep, as the rain fell more abvuidantly, and drenched
me, as well as my comj)anion, to the very skin. The thun-
der Ixdlowed as if in the enjoyment of a very liappy frolic.
and the liLditninir seinned determined to root up a few trees in
our imnu'diate vicinity, as if for the purpose of aivinu- us more
room. Finally Cheney rose frouj his pillow, (which was a log

:-t

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAOFENAY.

of wood.) and proposed that wo shoidd ([iiall'a liltlo In-aiulv, to
kvA'.p us froiii catcliintr cold, whi(di wo did, and then nr.nU'.
aiioth<'r attempt to reach the hind ol" Xod. " ■ '• At
llie hreak of day we wer(? awakened iVoni a short but refresh-
iii<T sU'cp, hy th(3 siniiinir ol" hirds, and when the; ehecrrul
nioouliiilit liad reached tht^ bottom of the ravines, we were
cujoyiiiL!' a comlbrtabh; breakfast in the cabin of my friend.

'J'he principal attractions associated with 'J'ahawus, are
the Indian Pass, the Adirondac Lakes, the Adirondac iron
works, and the miuhty hunter of the Adirondacs, ,Iohn
Cheney. 'J'he J\tss, so called, is oidy an old-fashioned notch
between the mountains. On one side is a |)erpeiidicular
precipice, risin*,^ to the heiirht of eleven huiulred feet; and, on
the other, a wood-covered mountain, ascendinti' l:ir up into
the sky, at an an^le of IbrtN^-live dcirrees. 'J'hrouuh this pass
flows a tiny rivulet, over whi(,'h the ro(dis are so thickly
piled, as frequently to Ibrm pitfalls that measure from ten to
tliirtv leet in depth. — Some of these holes are nev(!r destitute
of ice, and are cool and comfortable even at midsummer.
TJie Pass is nearly half a mile in lenL^th, and, at one j)oint,
certain immense boulders have come toixether and formed a
cavern, which is called the " meelini^ house," and is, per-
liaj)s, caj)a!de of contamin.u" one thousand people. 'J'he rock
on eitiier side of tlu; J'ass is a i^ray {iranit(% and its only in-
liabilants are ea<>ies, whicdi are (|uile ahundant, and occupy
the most couspimious cra^' in the notch.

The two princij^d lakes which ocm the Adirondac wilder-
ness, are named Sanford and lltMiderson, after the two <i;en-
tleincn who first [)urchased land upon their borders. The
former is five miles in lennlh, and the latter somewhat less
than three, both of iIumu varyiui>- in width from half a mile to
a mile anil a half. 'J'he mountains which swoop down to their
bosoms are covered with forest, and abound in a great variety
of large game. There is not, to my knowledge, a single

;

LAKES SANTORD AND IIFNDERSOX.

hahitiilioii on oillicr of the lakes, and the only siiioko over
seen to ascciul iVoni tluMr lonely recesses, comes from the
watch-lire of the; hunter, or the encampment of surveyors
and touri^^ls. — The water of these lakes is cold and deep,
and moderately supplied with salmon trout. Lake Hender-
son is admirahly situated for the exciting sport of deer huntinir,
and thouirh it contains two or three canoes, cannot he entered
from the West Branch of the Hudson without makinir a por-
tage. 'J'hrouirh Lake Sanford, however, the Hudson takes
a direct course, and there is nothiiiij' to impede the i)assaoe
of a small hoat to within a mile of the iron works, which
are located in a valley hetween the two lakes. 'J'he fact is,
durinir the summer there is ([uite an extensive husiness done
on Lake Sanford, in the way of '' hrinLnuir in" merchandize,
and " carrviiiL'' out*' the produce of the ldrtr(\ It was mv
misfortune to make the inward passajje of the lake in com.
pany with two ijrnorant Irishmen. Their hoat was small,
heavily laden, verv tottleish and leakv. 'IMiis was mv onlv
chance; and on trdviuir my seat with a palpitatinij heart, I
made an express hargain with the men, that they should keep
alontr the shore on their way up. Thev assented to mv
wishes, hut immediately ])ulled for the very centre of the
lake. 1 remonstrated, hut thc'v told m(! tiiere was no danjrer.
The hoat was now rapidly fdliiiir with water, and thoua'lionc
was hailintr with all his miffht, the rascals were determined
not to accede to my wishes. The conclusion of the matter
was that our shallop hecame water-logiretl, and on linally reach-
ing the shore, tlu; merchandize was <rreally damatrcd, and 1
was just ahout as wet as 1 was anL^'V at the miserahle creatures,
whose obstinacy had not only irreatly injured their emj)loyers,
but also einlanjrered my own plunder as well as my life.

The iron works alluded to above, are located in a narrovi'
valley, and in the immediate vicinity of Lake Henderson, at
a place called Mulntyre. Some time in the year 1830, a
6

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAOUENAY.

couple of Scottish gentlemen, named Henderson and Mcln-
tyre, purchased a large tract of wild land lying in this por-
tion of New York. In the summer following, they passed
through this wilderness on an exploring expedition, and with
the assistance of their Indian guide, discovered that the bed
of the valley in (juestion was literally blocked up with iron
ore. On making farther investigations, they found that the
whole rocky region about them was composed of valuable
mineral, and they subsequently established a regular-built
iron establishment, which has been in operation ever since.
A gentleman named Robinson afterwards purchased an in-
terest in the concern, and it is now carried on bv him and
Mr. Mclntyre, though the principal stockholders are the
wife and son of Mr. Henderson, deceased.

The metal manufactured by this company is of the very best
quality of bar-iron ; and an establishment is now in progress
of erection at Tahawus, twelve miles down the river, where
a party of English gendemen intend to manufacture every
variety of steel. The iron works give employment to about
one hundred and fifty men, whose wages vary from one to
four dollars per day. The society of the place, you may
well imagine, is decidedly original ; but the prominent indi-
vidual, and only remarkable man who resides here, is John
Cheney, the mighty hunter of the Adirondacs. For an ac-
count of this man, the reader will please look into the fol-
lowing chapter.

CHAPTER VII.

Jdliii Clicnoy, tlif Adiroiuhic liuntcr — Smne ct" hi-; cxpluis.

ac-
fol-

John Chotn/'.i Cnhin. Jinir.

John Cheney was born in New Ilainpsliire, hat sjient his
boyhood on the shores of Liiko Champhiin, and lias resided
in the Adirondac wilderness about thirteen years. He has
a wife and one child, and lives in a conifortahle eabin in the
wild villajre of Melntyre. His profession is that of a hunter,
and he is in the habit of spendin<,r about one-half of his time
in the woods. He is a remarkably amiable and intellijrent
man, and as unlike the idea I had formed of him as possible.
I expected from all that I had heard, to see a hunQ, power-
ful, and hairy Nimrod ; but, instead of such, I found him
small in stature, and bearing more the appearance of a modest
and thoughtful student.

The walls of his cosy little house, containing one princi-
pal room, are ornamented with a large printed sheet of the
Declaration of Independence, and two engraved portraits of
Washington and Jackson. Of guns and pistols he has an
abundant supply, and also a good stock of all the conve-
niences for camping among the mountains. He keeps one
cow, which supplies his family with all the milk they need;
but his favorite animals are a couple of hunting dogs named
Buck and Tiger.

A TOI'R TO THE RIVER .SACTENAY.

As siimnior is not the time to accomplish much in t!io way
of liuntiii<.s my advontiiri's with John (^hcncy liave not hccn
(listinifiiishod by any slirrini^ events ; we have, liow(>ver, en-
joyed some rare s|)oi-t in tlie way of rishinL»", ' \n\ obtained
some irk)rious views IVom the; tnonnlain peaks of iliis re<rion.
Hilt tbe conversation oi" tliis lamoiis \imrod lias interested
me excee(hnirly, and wherever we miirht be, niKhr his own
roof, or by the sick' of onr mountain watch-fires, I liave kept
him busy ill rtM-ountinir liis former adventures. I copied into
my not(;-book nearly everytliinir lie said, and now present
my rcack'rs with a lew extracts relalini.^ to his huntini: ex-
ploits. 1 sliall use his own words as nearly as I can remem-
ber tiiem.

>■■ * ^ * ;V *

" I was always fond of hunting, and tlic lirst animal I
killed was a fox; I was then ten years of aire. Even from
'•liikibood, I was so in love with the -woods that I not only
neirl(M*ted school, but was constantly ])orrowint'' a irun, or
stealing the one belonging to my father, with which to fol-
low my favorite amusement, lie found it a useless busi-
ness to make a decent boy of me, and in a lit of desperation
he one day presented me with a common fowling piece. I
was the youngest of thirteen children, and was always called
the black sheep of the family. 1 have always enjoyed good
liealtli, and am forty-seven years of age ; but I have now
passed my prime, and don't care about exposing myself to
any useless dangers.

* ^. :v ^ * *

" You ask me if I ever hunt on Sunday ; no, sir, 1 do not.
1 have always been able to kill enough on weekdays to give
me a comfortable living. Since 1 came to live among the
Adirondacs, I have killed six hundred deer, four hundred
liable, nineteen moose, tiventy-eight bears, six umlves, seven
wild eats, thirty otter, one panther and one beaver.
^ * # * # *

HUNTI\« STORIES.

not.
rive
the
ired
wen

" As to that heaver I was speak itiir al)oiit, it took me three
vears to capture him. lor he was an ohl IcHow, and rcmark-
ahlv cumiinnr. He was the hist, from all that I can h-arn.
iliat was ever taken in the Slate. One of the fjOiiL'" f/ake
Inchar.s olten attempl(al to trap him, hut withiuit success; lie
usuallv found his trap spruiiir, hni co\ilil nev(>r '.""''t a morsrl

of the heaver's

tail

and so it was wiih me. too; hi

t 1

liiiallv

fixed a trap under the water, near the entratice to his dam.
uid it so happened thai he one day stepped into it and was

'irownec

** 1 was iToinu: to tell you somethinir ahont my doir?j, IJuek
d Tiller. I've raised some iifty of these animals in my
dav, hut 1 never owned siudi a tormented smart one as that
fellow Buck. I helieve there's a g^^o^\ deal of the llniilish
mastilV in him, hiii a keener eye than he carries in his head
I never saw. Only look at that hreast of his ; did you ever sec;
a thicker or more S(did oiu; .' He's handsomely spotted, as vou
may see. hut some of the devilish liake IMeasant Itulians cut
ofl" his ears and tail ahout a year aixo, and he now looks rather
Id. ^ on may not hi lieve it, hut I have ■r^vvn a aood manv

men who were w. ; half as sensihle as that verv doL^ When-
ever the fellow's Imnirrv he alwavs seats himself at mv feet

and trives three short oarUs, winch is his way ol lelliiiir me
dial he would like some hread and meat. If the folks hap-
pen to he away irom liomtN and he feels a little sharp, he pays
a retrular visit to all the houses in the vilhiire, and after phiy-
injT with tlie children, harks for a dry crust, wlii(di In; always
receives, and then comes haidv to his own home. He's (|uite
a favorite amonir the children, and I've witnessed more than
one fi^iht hecanse some wicked little scamp had thrown Ji
stone at him. When I speak to him he understands me jnsi
as well as you do. I can wake liiin out of a sound sleep,
and by my saying, ' lUick, go up and kiss the baby,' lie

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGIENAY.

f I

wi!! march dircftly to the cradle aiul lick llio baby's face; and
tli(? way he watclics that baby when it's asleep, is perfectly
curious, — he'd t(uir you to pieces in three minutes if you
were to try to take it away. Buck is now four years old, and
thouj^h he's helped nie to kill several hundred deer, he never
lost one for me yet. Whenc^ver I f^o a hunting, and don't
want him alonjr, I have oidy to say, MJuck, you must not ffo,'
— and he remains quiet: there's no use in chainiuir him, I tell
you, for he understands his business. Tliis doir never starts
after a deer until I tell him to go, even if the deer is in
siirhl. Why 'twas only the other day that Tijzer brou«dit in
a (lo(! to Jjake Colden, where the two had a desperate light
within a hundred yards of the spot where liuck and myself
were seated. I wanted to try the metal of 'J'iijer, and told
Huck he must not stir, thougli I went up to the doe to see
wliat the result would be between the lighters. Buck didn't
move out of his tracks, but the way he howled for a little
taste of blood was perfecUy awful. I almost thought the
fellow would die in his agony. Buck is ol" ffreat use to me,
when I am oil" hunting, in more ways than one. If I happen
to be lost in a snow storm, which is sometimes the case, 1
only have to tell him to go home, and if I follow his tracks I
am sure to come out in safety; and when sleeping in the
woods at night, 1 never have any other pillow than Buck's
\nn\y. As to my black dog Tiger, he isn't (piite two years
old yet, but he's going to make a great hunter. 1 am trying
hard now-a-days to break him of a very foolish habit of kill-
ing porcupines. Not only does he attack every one he sees,
but he goes out to hunt them, and often comes home all
covered with their (luills. It was only the other day that he
came home with ai)out twenty quills working their way into
his snout. It so happened, however, that they did not kill
him, because he let me pull them all out with a pair of pin-
cers, and that too without budging an inch. About the story

ii\

HUNTINO STORIES.

people tell, thai the ])orcupiiie throirn its quills, 1 can tell you
it's no such thinir, — it is only when the (piills touch the. dog,
that they coniu out and work their wav throui;h liis hody.

uig
kill-
sees,
all
\the
into
kill
pin-
itory

" As to (leer huntinff, 1 can tell you more stories in that line
than vouM care about lieariuir. They have several ways ol
killinLT tlicin in this (juarter, and some of their ways are so
internal mean. I'm surprised that there should he any deer
left in the country. Jn the tlrst place, there's the 'still
iiuntinjr' fashion, when you lay in ambush near a salt lick,
and shoot the poor creatures when they're not thiukinu of
vou. And there's the beastly manner of blindini' them with
a ' torch liirht' when they come into tiie lakt;s to cool them-
selves, and <ret away from the llies, duriui( the ^varm nights
of summer. Now 1 say, that no decent man will take this
advantaire of wild <rame, unless iu; is in :i starvinir condition.
The t)nlv manlv wav to kill deer is bv 'drivinu' them, as
I do, with a cou))lc of hounds.

" There isn't a creature in this whole wilderness that I think
so much (jf as a deer. They are so beautiful, with their briirht
eyes, (rraceful necks, and sinewy lejrs ; and they arc; so swift,
and make such splendid leaps when hard pressed; why,
I've seen a buck jump from a dill" that was forty feet liitrh,
and that, too, without injurinfr a hair. 1 wish 1 could lij-et my
liviuir wiijiout killino- this beautiful animal! — but I must live,
and 1 sujjpose they were madi' to die. The cry of the deer,
when in the aijonies of death, is the awlulest sound 1 ever
heard ; — I'd a L^Dod deal rather hear the scream of the pan-
ther, j)r()vided 1 have a ball in my pistol, and the pistol is
in my hand. 1 wish they woidd never speak so.

" 'J'lic time for takini^ deer is in the fall and winter. It's a
curious fact, that when a deer is at all frightened, he cannot
stand upon smooth ice, while, at the same time, when not
afraid of being caught, he will not only walk, but actually

mtamtmmtm^tmmm

f \

i !

A roi K TO TIIF-: KI\FR SACIKVAV.

Irot luToss a lake as sinoolh as irlass. It's a i^lorioiis si<rht
to sec lliciii nmniiiL'' dou'ii lli'' moimlaiiis. wilh ihc doas liowl-
iiiLT lH'liiii(l ; lull I (Idii't lliiiilv I cvrr saw a iiion- hcaiiliriil
race than 1 (mcc did oii Lake I Iciidcrsoii, lictwccii a biiidv
deer and m\ doL*" liiick, wIkmi liic lake was covcitiI with a
liilhi fall ol' snow. I had [)iit IJiick upon a fresh tra(dv, and
was M-aiiinn |'oi- lijni on ihe \:\\\V sliorc. Prcscnllv, a sph>n-
did deer honndcd out ol" the woods npon \\\v \ro, and as th(^
dotr \\;is onl\' a lew paces oil", he h'd lh(.' race direcll\' across
the lake. Awav ihey ran as il" a hurricane was alter them;
crossed the lake, then hacdv aLTain. Then ihev made anolh(>r
will el. and liavinu- run to lh(> exlrcMnc^ southern jxdnt ol' tlTo
lake, aiiain returned, when the deer's wind <i;av(? out, and the
do^" caiii>ht and threw the creature, into whos(> throat 1 soon
pluniicd mv knile, and tlu^ race was eiuled.

'* ! ne\('r was so hadK' hurt in htmtinii an\" animal as I
ha\(' heen in huiitmLr deer. It was while chasing- a hiick on

leiiev s

Lai.

which was

named alter me hv Mr. Hen-

derson in commenioratioii of my escape,) that I once shot

mvsell in a verv had wav

1 was in a canoe, and had laid

mv ])ist()| down hy mv sule, when, as I was pressing"

hard

upon the animal, my pistol slij)ped under me m some (pieer

wav, and went oil, s(mu

lino-

a l)a

11 iiit(

o my let];, pisl ahove the

ankle, wliudi came out just helow the knee. I knew sonuMJiiiiir
terrible had hapj)ened, and thouah I 'liouirht that I miiiht die, I
was dcMermined that tli(> ileer should die lirst; and I ilid siic-
eeod in killinir him before he reaehed the shore, lint, soon
as the cxeilement was over, the j)ain I had ll'lt before was
increase'' a thousand-fold, and 1 felt as if all the devils in
hell were drai>irin«r at my let»", the weifihtiuul the ni^oiiy were so
ureal. 1 had never siillered so before, and I ihouij^ht it strantre.
Vou may not bidieve it, i)ut when that accident liap])e!ied, 1
was fourteen miles from home, and yet, even with that used-
up letr, 1 succeedi'd in reachinii; my home, where I was con-

nr\TiN(; stoiuf.s.

lined lo iiiv lied iVoiii (Jctolicr until \|)ril. 'V\\;i was a (.n-oat
winter lor liuntniii" wliicii I iiiis.-cd ; hu' ni\' Icir i^ot entirely
well, and is now as nood as excr.

"The most s:n'aL'(' animal iliat I liunt lor ainonii these
monntains, is the nniovc, or cumIioo, as I lia\'e heard some
people call them. TlieN're (juite pientv in the reniitn of
LonLT liakr and Lake IMeasant ; and il' the hunter don't un-
derstaml iheir \\a\s. iie'll he IdvcK to L'^el killed helore ho
thinks ol' his danncr. The nnxise is the lamest animal of
the deer kind, or, in laet, (d' aiiv kind that we lind in 'his
part ol' the eounlrv. 1 1 is horns are \crv laruc and usually
lo(dv like a pair of erah-apple trees. lie has a loiiL'' heail,
louii' h'L^s. and ma' <'s a tjreat noise when he traxcls; his llesli
)s considei-rd first rate, lor he leeds upon grass, and ih" teti-
der huds ol' the moose maple. lie is a rapid tra\-eller, and
hard to tire out. In wint( r they run in herds ; ai'd when
the snow is deep, thev irenerallv live in cme particular place in
the woods which we call a ' vard.' The craid^ time ler kill-
ini: them is the winter, wIkmi we can travel on the si.ow with
our hraided snow shoes.

" I once killed two moose helore nine o'ekxdv in the moni-
in<i. I had Ixm'ii out a huntiuL'" I<h' two days, in the winter,
and when ninlit canu^ (Ui, I had to camp out near !he loot of
old Tahawus. When I liot up in the morniiiL'". :nid was ahoul
to start lor honu'. 1 discoM-rcd a yard, wher(> lav a couple of
hull moos(>. 1 don't know wnat thev were thinkiiiLT ahout,
hut just as soon as they sa.w me, the\' jtimped up, and made
directly towards the place where 1 was HtandinL^ I couldn't
cet (dear of their uiily feet without runninir, so I put for a
larife dead tree that Inid hlown over, and walkin<r to tho hutt
cm! of it, which was some ten fe(>t !ii(rh, looked down in
safety upon lli ■ devils. Tlujy seemed to bt; very iiuul al)out
somethinL^ and did everythinir tlu'V eouUI to jjfet at me. l>y

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGUENAY.

I ■

runniiijr around; aiul I r('incml)cr ihey ran togellier, as if ihey
liail been yoked. 1 waited for a jrood cliance to shoot, and
when 1 ^ot it, fired a ball elear through one of the animals,
into the shoulder of the second, 'i'he tirstonc dropped dead
as a dooi nail, but tiie other took to his heels, and after going
about fifty rods, concluded to lie down. I then came up to
him, keeping my dogs back for the purpose of sticking him,
when he jumped up again, and put after me like lightning.
I ran to a big slump, and after I had fairly fixed myself, 1
loaded again, and again tired, when the fellow tunil)lcd in the
snow ([uite dead, lie was eiglit feet high, and a perfect

roarer.

* * *- * *■ *

" Another animal that we sometimes find pretty plenty in
these woods, is the big gray wolf; they arc savage fellows,
and dang(!r()us to meet with when angry. On getting up
early one winter morning, 1 noticed, in the back part of iny
garden, what 1 thought to be a woif track. 1 got my gun,
called for my dogs, and started on llu; hunt. I found I lie fel-
low in his den among tlie mountains. 1 kindled a lire, and
smoked him out. I then chaseil him for ai)out two miles,
when he came to bay. lie was a big iellow, and my dogs
were afraid to clinch in ; — dogs hat > :. wolf worse than any
other animal. I found I had a fair chance, so I tired at the
creature; but my gun missed lire. The wolf tluiii attacked
me, and in striking him with my gun, 1 broke it all to pieces.
1 was in a bad fix, 1 tell you, but 1 immediately threw myself
on my back, with my snow shoes above me, when the v/olf
jumped right on to my body, and, probably, would have killed
me, had it not been for my di»g Huck, who worried the wolf
so badly, that the devil left me, to fight the dog. While they
were lighting with all their might, 1 jumped uj), took the bar-
rel of my gun, and settled it right into the brain of the

?■•'■'

HUNTING STORIES.

I'll"

■:^^

I-

savatje animal. That was the lamest wolf ever killed in this
wilderness.

^P ^^ ^P ^^ *r* "t*

" One of the hardest llirhts I ever had in these woods was
with a hhu'k bear. 1 was comiiiir from a winter hunt. The
snow was very deep, ami 1 had on my snow shoes. It so
hap[)ened, as I was eomini: down a ecrtain mountain, the
snow suddenly jjave way under me, and I i'ell into the hole
or winter (quarters ol" one of the blackest and lartrest bears
I evi r saw. 'J'he fellow was quite as much frightened as
I was, and he scampered out of tlie den in a 'jreat hurry.
I was very tired, and had only one doij- with me at the; time,
but I put after him. I liad three several battles with him,
and in one of these; lie struck mv hand with such lorc(i as to
send my ^un at least twenty or thirty feet from where we stood.
I finally managed to kill the rascal, however, but not until he
had almost destroyed the life of my dotr. 'J'hat was a noble
(Ioij:; but in that battle he received liis death-wound. He
couldn't walk at the time, and though I was nine miles IVom
home, I took him up in my arms and brouiiht him ; but with
all my nursinj^ I could not ir<'t him up atfaiii, for he died at
the end of a few weeks. That doji was one of the best
friends I ever had.

"Hut the m()St danirerous animal in tliis country is the yel-
low j)aiitlier or j)ainter. 'J'hey ar(; not \('ry {denty, and so
t(!rn\ented cunninji- that it is very seldom you can kill one,
'I'liey are v<'ry no|y, but don't often attack a man unless
cornered or womidcd. They look and act very much like a
cat, oidy that tliey are very lanrc ; I never killed but one, and
his body was five feet lono;, and his tail between [hvvv. and
four. At niuht their eyes look like balls of lire, and v'hen
they are after game they make a hissin<> noise, which is very
dreadful to hear. Their scream is also very terrible, and It

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGl ENAY.

lii

' I

never saw tho man who was anxious to liear it more than
once. Tlicy are srhloni Imntod as a matter of husiness, but
usually killed hy aceideiit.

*' The panther I onee killed, I eame aeross in this manner.
I was out on Lake Henderson with two men, eatehiny fish
'hrouLdi the ice, when we saw two wolves eome on to the ice
in ^reat haste, Iookin<T and aetiii<T as if they had been pur-
sued. 1 proposed to the men that we should all jjo and kill
them if we eould. They wanted to fish, or were a litlh; afraid,
so I took my <Tun and started after the irame. I followed
them some distance, when, as they were sealinir a led^re, they
were attacked by a biir panther, and a bloody fiiiht took place.
From the appearance of die animals, 1 sujiposed that they
had met before, which was the cause whv the wolves came
upon the lake. During- the scullle between the animals, it
IS a sinirular fact that thev all three tund)led oil' the r»reeinice

and fell throujjfh the air about one hundred feet. The wolves
jumped uj) and ran away, while the panther started in another

lirection.

I foil

owed ins track, and alter (ravellmira number

imb(

of hours, overtook him, and managed to shoot him throuirh the
shoulder. lie (hen g-ot into a tree, and ".s he was lashing his
Jail and <];ettin^ ready to pounce upon me, I j^ave hiin another
hall, and he fell to the earth with a ^-raslii, and was quite dead.
I then went to the lake ain! not ihc men to li^lp nie home M'ith
my booty."

C II A P T E II V I li .

Burliimtiiu — L;iUc Champlain — l)i>tii;;.nusht'cl jncti

BurliuLiitoii, June,

Of all tlio towns whirh I have seen, Biirlinuton, in Ver-
mont, is decidedlv one of the most beautilul. It stands on
the sliorc of Lake Champhiin, and from the water to its
eastern extremity is a re^uhir elevation, which rises to the
hei<ditot' some three hunih'ed I'eet. Its streets are broad and
regularly laid out; the gen(!ralily of its buildings elegant, and
its inhabitants well etlucated, refined md wxvdthy. i\Iy visit
here is now about to close, and I cannot but follovv the im-
pulses of my heart, by givinu- my reader a brief account of
its principal piciturestjue attractions, and some information
concerning a few of its ])ubHc men.

As a matter of course, my first subject is Lake Champlain.
In apptoacliing it from the south, and particularly from Ilori-
con, one is apt to form a wrong opinion of its picturesque
features; but you cannot pass through it without being lavish
in its praise. It extends, in a straig^it line from south to
north sonu'what over an hundred miles, and lies between
the State of New York and Vermont. It is the gateway
between the country on the 8t. Lawrence, and that on the
Hudson, and it is, therefore, extensively navigated by ^'es-
sels and steamboats. It is surrounded with nourishing vil-

A TOUR TO THE RIVKR SACJUKNAY.

I- ^i

la^os, wliosc ]mpul:itiuii is irrncrnlly uvmIv. up of New l''nu-
laudcrs and Canadians. Its width varies from half a mile
to thirteen; l)nt its waters [\vv. miuhly, exeeptin^ in the vici-
nity of IJurliniiton. Its islands m-v. not mimerons, hnt one
of them, Grand IsU', is snlheienlly hirjre to support four vil-
lages, its seenery may he denominated hold ; on the west are
the Adirondac Mountains, and at some distanee on tin; east,
the heautiful Circen Mountains, whose glorious commandrrs
arc Manslield Mountain and tlie Camel's Hump. Owing to
tlie width of the lake at Hurlitigton, and the heauty of the
western mountains, the sunsets that are here visihle, are ex-
ecediiiirly suj)erh.

The elassie assoeiations of this lake arc uneommonly inte-
resting. Here are the moss-eovered ruins of Tieonderoga
and Crown l*oint, wliose present occupants arc the snake,
the lizard and toad. Leaden and iron balls, broken bayonets,
and Knglish Hints have I picked up on their ramparts, which
I cannot look upon without thinking of death-struggles and
the horrible shout of war. And there, too, is Plattsburgh,
ill whose waters Commodore McDonough vindicated the
honor of the Stars and Stripes of Freedom. As to the fish-
ing of this lake, I have but a word to say. Excepting trout,
almost every variety of fresh water fish is found here in
abundance; but the water is not pure, which is ever a serious
drawback to my enjoyment in wetting the line. Lake Cham-
plain received its name from a French nobleman who disco-
vered it in 1009, and who died at Quebec in 1635.

The associations I am now to speak of are of a per-
sonal character; and the first of the three names before i)'\3
is that of Joseph Torrey, the present Professor of Moral and
Intellectual Philosophy in the University of Vermont. As
a citizen, he is one of the most amiable and beloved of men.
As one of the faculty of the university, he occupies a high
rank, and is a particular favorite with all his students. A

-- -?

per-

and

men.

high

JOSEPir TORRF.Y.

plrasinc ovidcnco of tho latter fart I notirrd a few days sinro,
U'he!i it was r('[)()rt('(l ainonir tlu; students that the Professor
had returned from a visit to the Spriiiirs for his lieahh. 1
was in eonipaiiy with some hiilf-dozeri of them at the time,
and these ;ir(; the remarks tliey made. " How is his h(>ahh .'"
" I hope he has improved '/' " Now sh:dl I he ii;ipj)y — for ever
siiiee he went away, the recitation room has heen a cheerh'ss
phiee to me." "Now shall I he advised as to my essay!"
"Now shall my poem he corrected !" " Now in my irouhlc
shall 1 have th(!symj)athies of a true friend '/' Much more mean-
injT is contained in these; simple phrases thati what meets the eye.
Surely, if any man is to be envied, it is he who has a place in
tlic allections of all who know him. As a scholar, too, Professor
Torrey occupies an exalted station, as will he proven to the
world in due time. He has never published anythinir hut an
occasional article for a review, atid the memoir of President
Marsh, (who was his predecessor in the university,) as con-
tained in the admirable volume of his Remains, which shotdd
occupy a conspicuous place in the library of every American
scholar and Christian. The memoir is, indeet', a rare speci-
men of that kind of writini^, — beautifully written, and per-
vaded by a spirit of rellnenient tliat is deli<rhtful. IJut 1 was
mostly interested in Mr. Torrey as a man of taste in the Fine
Arts. In evervthintr but the mere execution, he is a irenuine
artist, and Ioiil*" may I remember the counsels of his experi-
ence and knowledge. A course of Lectures on tin; Arts
forms a portion of his instruction as Professor, an»l I trust
that they will eventually be published for the beneiit of our
country. He has also translated from the German of Schel-
ling, a most admirable discourse, entitled " Relation of the
Arts of Design to Nature;" a copy of which ought to be in
the possession of every young artist. Mr. 'I'orrey has been an
extensive traveller in Europe, and being a lover, and an acute
observer of everything connected with literature and art, it is

y()

A TOUR TO THE lUVER SAG UE NAY.

111

;

quite ;i luxury to hear liiiu expatiate upon " tlie wonders he
has seen." He also examines evervlhinir with the eve of a
philoso[)her, anil his conclusions arc ever of practical utility.
Not only can he analyze in a profound manner the principles
of metaphysical learniiiir, hut with the jrenuine feelinirs of a
poet, descant uj)on the triumphs of poetic i(enius, or j)oint
out the mind-charms of a Claude or Titian. Il(! is — hut
I will not say all that I would, for fear that at our next meet-
ing he would chide me for my hoyish j)ersonalities. l^etme
conclude, then, reader, with the advice, that, if you ever
chance to meet the Professor in your travels, you must en-
deavor to secure an introduction, which I am sure you cannot
but ever remember with unfeiirned pleasure.

John Henry Hopkins, D. 1)., Bishop of Vermont, is another
of the principal attractions of lUirlintrton. The history of
his life, the expression of his counicnance, and his treneral
deportment all speak of the " peace of (iod." Considering
the number and diversity of his ac(iuirements, 1 think him a
very remarkable man. He is not only, in point of character,
well worthy of his exalted station as iiishop, but as a theo-
logian learned and eloquent to an uncommon degree. His
contributions to the world of letters are of rare value, as he
has published volumes entitled " Christianity Vindicated,*'
"The Primitive Church," "The Primitive Creed," "The
Church of Rome," " Jiritish lleformation," and " Letters to
the Clergy." His style of writing is persuasive, vigorous,
and (dear, and all his conidusions seem to have been formed
in liiU view of the Bible, which is a virtue well worth noticing
in these degenerate days. It is because of his honesty and
soundness, 1 suppose, that some of his own church are
disallected with his straightforward conduct. Bishop Hop-
kins, as a divine, is of the same school with the late Bishop
While, and therefore among the most eminently wise and
good of his country.

■)

uEORCii; p. MAnsH.

•j5 ho

of a
Lility.
i-iples
5 of a

point

; but

mt;el-
iCi me
I ever
list eii-
caiiuot

mother
lory ol
general
lUlering
i liim a
iwacter,
a theo-
p. His
3, as he
iinitCHl,*'
' "The
B tiers to
iirorous,
formed
noticini^
c'sty and
irch are
op II op-
e Bishop

wise

and

The Bisliop of Vermont is also a man ol rcmarkalih- taste
with rci^ard to Architecture, .Music and I'aintiuii", in wliich
deiiartments, as an amateur, he has done himself ureat credit.
-Not only did hi; plan and superintend iIk! huildiuLT of an
odilice for his recent sidiool, hut has puhlished an interesting
Ijook on Architecture, wherein lie appears to he as muidi (//
//owe as if he wore (Miristopher Wren. Jvnowinii' the market
to he full of sentimental nonsense in the way of son^s. he com-
posed, for the heuelit of his own (diildreii, a few with a nuM'al
toiu', whi(di he also set to music, ami are now puhlished as a
worthy trihute to liis fine feeliui^s aiul the correciiu'ss of Ids
ear. But he ranks still lii<:her a.s a man of taste in the ca-
])aci!v of Painter. 'J'he Vermont drawinuf-hook, whicdi he
puhlished, is an evidence of his ability as a dral'tsman. 'J'lie
family })ortraits whi(di adorn his walls j)ro\(' him to have an
accurate eve for color, and an uncommon knowled;,;' of
effect; — and his oil sketcdies of S(;enes I'roni nature uive
l(dven of an ardent il(!Volion to nature. I>iit tlu; hest, in my
o))iuion, of all his arlistical j)roductions. is a picture repre-
senlinii onr " Saviour blessina' little children.'' Its conc(>p-
tion, oroujjiiitr and execution are all of very irreal merit, and
1 am persuaded will one day he looked upon with j)eculiar
interest bv the lovers and indues of art in this country.
'I'houLih done in water colors, and consiilered by tin; artist as
a mere sketidi for a lar<j:er picture, there are sf)m(! heads in it
that would have called forth a compliment even from the
himiMited Allston. Would that he could he inlhiem-ed to
send it, for exhibition, to our National Academy ! And thus
ciuleth my humble trilnite of api)lause to a Lnfted man.

I now come to the Hon. Georire P. Marsh, of whom, if I
M-ere to follow the bent of mv feelings, I could write a com-
plete volume. 'J'liouuh yet in the early prime of life, he is
a saue in learninir and wisdom. After leavinjr coUefifo he
settled in Burlinjrton, where he has since resided, dividing

1)8

A Toru TO Tnr rivkk sAf;ri;\AV.

Ins lime htlwccii lii.s 1('l'";iI jjrolcssioii and the re tirciiiciil of
liis slihlv. \V illi a lar<:«' and lihcral licarl, lie p(>ss('ss('s all
the ('iidcaiiiiu' and inlcrcstinL' iiualilics \\ liicli IxdoiiL^ to the
Inie and ae('oiM|)lislied jiciidenian. Jiike all trul\- ureal men,
lie is exeeediniiU relii ini; and nuMlesI in his dej)«)rlmenl, and
one ol that rare class w ho seem ne\fr excMled hv the \()i(;L'
of lame. Ahonl lonr years aijo, almost without his knttu le(!i.f(',
he N\as elected to a seat in the lower house ol ( 'oniiress,
where he at once hetran to mak(! an impression as a states-
man. 'JMumiih lew have heeii his j)uhlic speecdies, the\' are
rcmarkahle lor sonnil political Iolhc and the (dassic eleirancc
of their lan<ruai>-e. As an orator, he is not showy anil pas-
sionat(,', hut plain, forcihle and earnest.

IJut it is in dn; walks of ])rivate lite that A^r. ^larsh is to
1)(! mostly .idmired. His knowledge ol" th(^ Fiiu' Arts is
i)rohal)lv more extensive than that ol" anv other man in this
country, aiul his critical laste is ecjual to his knowlediie; hut
that department peculiarly his hohhy, is eui^ravinir. llu has
a passion for line enuruvinirs; and it is inupieslionahly true,
that his eoUeelion is the most valuahli; and extensive in the
Union. Jle is well aci[uainted with the history ol" this art
Troni the earliest period, and also with its various mecdianieal
ramilicatit)ns. He is as l"amiliar with the lives anil peculiar
styles of the J'ainlers and Mnj^-ravers ol" anliijuity, as with his
liousehold alVairs; .nul wlum he talks to you on his favorite
theme, it is not to display his learniui';', but to makt; you
realize the exalted attributes and mission of universal art.

As an author, iMr. Marsh has done but little in extent,
but emjtiiih to secure a seat beside such meu as Edward
Everett, with whom he has been compared, lie has pub-
lished (amonfr his numerous ihin^rs of the kind) a pamphlet,
entitled " The CJodis in New J'hiirhuul,'' which is a fine
specimen of chaste writing and beautiful thouirht; also ano-
ther on the " History of the Mechanic Arts," which contains

Aj.,-

A RAIli; I.ir.llAUV

!)!)

i liri'Mt (li;i! ot I'lirc ;iiii! iiiijiorliiiit iiironii:ilii)ii. lie has iil-o
writtiMi ;'.ii " |c(l:i!i<lic (iraiiiiinr" of loii paLTs, wliicli crraU'il
qiiiic a >( iisa!ii)ii aiiioiiLr l!ic Icanicd dI' Iviropc a fr\v ycar-^
a.'i(». \,-i lo Ills scliuhirsliip — il can lie said ol him that he
is a iiKish I' in sonic t\\ci\c(»r the principal nimhaai aial
ancient hinuuaiit'S. I!c h.is not h'arncd thcni nn rely lor thi'
purpose ol' hcini! coiisi(h'rcd a HliaMr\' prodi-j'N', hnl to inuhiply
i)i-; means of acipiirini:' int tmiaJion, which inlormalion is
intended to :'ccon»pIi.-di ^omc suhstanlial end. lie is not a
visionary, hnt a (h'\ oted lover ol' truth, whether il he in 1 1 islorv,
I'oclry, or the Arts.

JJnt my ehiel'ohp'ct in >peakinLr of this ncntleman, was 'o
{!itr(Hluce a pas-^ini! no'.ice of his lihrarv, w hicli i-. undoiiht-
cdly the jnost uni([ue in dii; connIr\'. 'J'hc ouildinn" ilscll,
which stands near his dwellimi', is ol" hrii 1\, and arraniied
t!;ronii!iout with ijreat taste. \ i\\\ enter il, a-; il was ol'icn
juy pi"i\ ileiic and lind \durse|i" in a complete wilderness ol
coi'Li'ions hooks, and porltolios ol" enirravinLis. Oi' hooks
-Mr. .Marsh owns some li\c l.hou-^and \(>litnies. lli> collec-
tion ol' Scandiiia\ ian Lilerature is snjiposcd to he mure com-
plete than anv out ol' the .Northern Kinirdonis. 'J'o tiive
yoi! an idea ol" this literary treasure, I will mention a
I'ew ol" the rarest specimens. In (dd .Northern Literature.
Iiere may Ix- I'ound the ./r/Ki M(f<j;ii;r(iii editions ol" old Iia--
landic Sairas, all of those of Snhni, all those of th.e J^>y al
Society of Northern .\nli<[uaries, and in lad all those printed
at Copeidiui,nMi and Stocdvhohu, as well as in Ifehind, with
scana ly an exception, 'i'lii.s lihrarv also contains the LH'eat edi-
tions of U(i III >ik rill ixlui the two /iJdi/d.s, A'u/iL(-s-S/i//i!:^;-SJi),
A'unujiu'd, S/ijri/.sr, tin; Seri[)lores lieruni Daniearuin, Seri[)-
lores Kerum Sveeicarnni, Dansk .Maiiazin, :ind t/ro complete
editions ol' Olinis MiiLfniOi, Sili-u (irainiiuittnus, the works of
liartholinus, Torlaus, Sch'»ninii, Suhm, Ponloppidan, (irundt-
viir, IV'lersen, Uask, the Jplantlcn of Kudbecdv, the yreal

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

"US

1.0

I.I

1.25

If liM IIM

1121

x^ m

t 1^

1.8

U ill 1.6

'e).

>^.

Photographic

Sciences

Corporation

<^.\
««!•^

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, NY. 14580

(716) 872-4503

100

A T(MU TO THE RIVER SAC TEN AY.

works of SpJ/iorLC, riiljcijiroii, (Jcijcr. ('roiiholni and Slriiin-
liohii, all llin collections of Icelandic, Danish and Swcdisli
laws, and almost all the writers, ancient and modern, wlio
Jiave treated of the lanmiair(!, literature, or history of the vm-
cient Scandinavian race.

In modern Danish liiteratiire, liore may he found the works
of 1 lolhcrL^, Wessel, I'l wald. I lejherir, JJaL''liesen, ( )(dd(Mischlse-
jrer, \veni[), In!,n'maiin. with oth(;r ceiehrated authors; in
Swedish, those of Lcojiold Oxensljerna, IJellman, i'ranzen,
Alt(!rl!om, Teirner, Frederika IJremer. and, indeed, almost all
the !.'(i/('.s-/(Nrrs authors of Sweden, the 'J'raiisac!ions of the
Koyal A(*ademy of Science, (more than one hundred volumes,)
tliose (d' the Swedish Academy, and of the Royal Academy
of liilerature, and many collections in documentary history,
hesides iium(>roiis other works.

In Spanish and l?ortiii>uese, hesides many modern authors,
hero are numerous old chroni(des, siudi as the Madrid col-
IcM'tion of old Spanish Chronicles, in seven volumes Ito.; the
Portuguese Llrro.s uicdlfo.s da lIiHtorUi Porhigtnza, live
yolunu>s I'olio; Fernam Loj)ez, do Hrito, Duarte ?Sunez de
Liaiu, Damiam de Goes, de Barros, Castanheda, Kesomle,
Aiidrada, Osorio ; also, de Meiiezes, Mariana, aiul others of
similar charaoter. In Italian, most of the host authors who
Jiavo acquired a I'hiropean reputation ; several hundred
volumes of French works, includimi' many of the ancient
chronicles ; a line collection in (ierman, including ntany edi-
tions of l-teynekc de V'os, the INihehm^ei., and other works
of the midtllc aj^es. In classical literature, good editions of
the most ceiehrated (J reek and Latin authors; and in Eno^-
llsh, a choice selection of the best authors, amoni^ which
should he mentioned as rare, in this country, Lord lierners'
Froissart, Roger xVscham, the writings of King James I.,
John Smith's Virginia (edition of 1021), Amadis de Gaul,
and Palmeriu of England. In lexicography, the best dic-

».

A PARK LTRRARY.

101

lioiiarios luivl i:r;imiiiars in all the laiiiiiiaLics of WCstcni Mil-
rope, and inaiiv i)i()L'"rai)liiral diclioiiarics and other works ot
•f(drr('n>a' in \arious lanuuairrs. .Manv works, too, arc lu're.
on astroloiiv, alclicniN', wiudicral'i, ami niaiiic; and a Li()<>dlv
nnnd)er of wdrks on ilii' situation ol' IMato's Atlantis m\d
lOKsian I'lclds, su(di as Iv'udlx'ck's Atlanlira. (nu-opins \]v-
eani'.s, {\(' (iraxc iifpuhiiijuc dcs ('liainps Idxsocs. uiul a
iiost of others in e\ery dej)arl!neiit of iearniiiLi", the iiierc
nientioii ol' wliieh would cause tlie bookworm a ihrdi ol
dt'liii'ht.

In the (ici)artnienl td' Art, Mr. Marsh possesses the .Musee
Franeais. .Muscc lto}'al. (proof hcforc letters.; l>il)er \ erita.-
(is, lioiiijliton (iallcr)'. I'loreiicc (iallcr\'. I'uhlicniidus ot'
Dilettanti Society, and nian\ oilier illu-trated work- and col-
lections <ii' enijravintis ; the WvU'ks of I'artsfdi. ( )tile\', Meinjs,
\ isconti, Wiiudu'lniann, ami other writers on the hi-^torv ami
theory of Art; old illustrated works, ;inionL!' wliich are tin;
orisiinal editions of Teuerdanck an.d l)cr W'ci-^s Kuniii'; and
man} thousand stei 1 enLira\ imj-^, includinii' nian\' oriuiiiais hv
Albert Diirer, liid\i' ol' Lexden. Lucas ( 'ranach, MdcMrcuer,
\\ ier\, the Sadiders Nauteuil. (annuiL!' others the celebrated
liouis A I \'., size of life, and a proof of the ( 'adet ;1 la ! *erle,
i)y Masson.) Ivleliidv, Drevet, .Marc Antonio, and other old
cni»ra\('rs of the Italian s'diool ; ('allot, ( >siade, Ixendn-andt,
(imdudiiiir a most superli imju'cssion <tf the('liri'^l llealimr
tlu! Sick, the Hundred (iuilder Piece, and the i'ortrai; of ]^>
nier Ansloo.) Waterloo, W^oolleit, Sharp. Strannc, I'birlom,
Wide, Fic(iuel Sclimifit, Jionsjlii, ami Moriihen; in >hort,
nearly all the works of all the nreal masters in (dialco-
i^raphy from the tinu' of J)iirer to the present daw It were
folly for me to praise these various works, and I have alluded
to them merely (or the purpose of leitini»" von km)W some-
tliiii;'' of the taste ami jiossessimis of .Mr. .Marsh. 1 1 is li!)rarv
is one of the most delightful places it has ever been mv for-

102

A TOT'R TO TirE RJVER SAGITXAY.

imic to visit, mid tlio day thai I licoaino ncquaintod \\illi tlic
liiaii, r camiot but consider as an ora in mv life. Moriiiiin;,
noon and evcninu' did 1 linufr with the mastor-sj)irits oi
oldcii tiiii(% eollt'ctcd in Iiis library, and tbongli I often stood
in nuito a(hniration of their genius, I was eonipeHed to slied
a tear, as I thouirht of the destiny as a writer whieli will j)ro-
bablv be mine. Thatdv (Jod, th(?r(? is no sneli thiiiLT :i!^ (fni-
fiiflnn in thai l)l(vssed world above the stars, which I hope
to attain, — no and)ilion to harass the soul, — for, then ^vill ii
be free to vcncl, and forever, in its holy and <i"odlilve concep-
tions. Hut a truc(^ to this strain of thouiiht, and also to the
liions of IJurlington, ul" whom I iio'v take niy leave with a
respectful bow.

CTI APTIllv* I\

NlnuM' rii;i,-]i— 'I'lir "\VillM(j.~Ki 'I'li,. (IfiTll Mi illlit;iili< 'I'lh' rililli'd i! wcli-

illi: 'I'lic White .'\IiiiliiI;iili The I-'hlllir — -A (I 'III [Mini Til.' Olil

M;ui lit' the Mdiiiitaiii — 'I'lir IJii-in — I'l niH'i iiii:i Xntrli — \ i'.'V.' < il' llir
iiH. iiiit;iiii- — MiMiiit \V;i.-liiiiL;tiiii — 'i'ln' Xnlrli N'alli'V.

Ill II Sfir^r Coiirh. — JiDlC.

'J'liUKi: lodtl knocks upon my hcd-room door ;i\v;ik(MiO(l
nif tVoiii '"a (Iccji (lr(':iin of pcaco." ''The I'lasicrii sta<r<' is
rctuly,'' said my landlord as lie handed me a liiilit. \\ h('r(>-
upon, in less diaii live ininntrs after the hour of three, 1 was
on my \v:iy to the AVhile Mountains, iiulifiiiL'' on the tablet
of my UKMUory the followiuL'" disjointed sta<ie-eoaeh rhapsody.

A tine eoa(di. tonrtiu'ii ])assen!_n'rs, and six super!) horses.
i\Iy seat is on the outside and my eyes on the alert for anv-
thinir of peenlitir interest whiidi I may nu'et with in my
journey. ^()w do the heautiftd (ireen Mountains meet my
view, '['he day is hreakiiiLf, ami lo ! upon either sule of mo,
and like two h'aders of an army, rise the peaks of Mansliejd
Mountains ami the ('amel's Hump. Around the lormer the
elond-spirits of early nmrnini;- arc; pieturinL;- the fantastic j)o-
etry of the sky; while just ahove tiic .iimmil of the other
may he s(>(>n the new moon ami the morninijf star, waitinir lor
the sun to come, like tu'o sweet human sisters for tin; smiles
wnd kisses of a returinn<r lather. And now, as the sunheams
glide alono- tlie earth, we are in tlie solitude of the mountains,

1(K

A roiri TO TIIK RIVKR SAGFEXAV.

:ui(l tlic ;i\\ ;ik('iir(l inist-ci"(':itiii"('S wvc ascciuliiiL'' iVoiii the cool
aiul sli.!(l\ nooks ill the ili'c^) riniiics.

^()llllL! Dioia's (icscriptioii of a sliip niidcr lull s;iil is \cvy
liiic. luit it (Iocs no! possess llic li\iiiL;' licaiitN' of ill.. I pii-tiiru
now ItfloiH' iiic, ill lliosc six 1);!\- horses, slraiiiiiii;' e\('iv iiervo
lo eclipse tlit> iuoniino- lu'ee/e. Hold your hreatli, lor the
road is hard and smooth as iiiarhle, and tlie extended nostrils
ol those inal(ddess steeds spenk of a nohlo piiile within.
There, lh(> race is done, the victory theirs, :uul no\v, as ihcy
trot steadily alona, what music in the (di:nn[)i!iL'' oT those hits,
and the strikinii" of thos{> iron-honnd hoofs I Of all llu^ soid-
less animals on earth. !n)iie d(/ 1 love so dearly as th.e horse —
I someiimcs am inclined \'.) tlnid; that they have souls. 1
res[)ect a. nohle horse more than I do sonu" men. Horses
are the Indian (diiel's ol" the hrute crc^ition.

'I'hi^ Wiiuioski. ahwiii" whose haidvs runs the most j)ictur-
cs([uc stauc route in V ermont, is an uncommonly intereslinij
stream, ra.pid, (dear, and cold. It is remarkable lor its falls
and narrow pa.s.scs. wliere p(M-pcndiciilar rocks of a hundred
Icct or more Crown u[)on its solitary pools. Its chid" picto-
ri::l attraction is the cataract at ^Vaterl)ury. a d(H^p ami jaL!i>od
cliasm in the <xranit(; mountain, n hoso horrors arc iireatly
increased hv the sioht and smothered liowl ol" an avalanche
of pure white loam. On its baidvs ami Ibriy miles i'rom its
outlet near JJnrlington, is situated Montpelier, the cajntal of
V'^ermont. It is a compact town, mostly built upon two
streets, and complettdy hemmed in by rich ami cidlivated
mountains. Its chief attraction to my mind, however, during
my short stay, was a pair of deei> black eyes, only half visi-
ble under their drooj)ini>' lids.

Durinjx one of my rambles near ^lontpclicr, I discovered
an isolated and abandoned dwelling', which stands u|)on a
littl(> plot of orecn, in the lap of the forest near the toj) of a
mountain. I entered its deserted eluunbers and spent a lonj^

>i.\Ksiini:r,i) \VATi;iir.\r,L.

lOf)

time iiiiisiiin iijHMi ils soil inn lulrnonMions. Tlic cclhr had
])( conn' t!ic iKtinc of li/,:n"(ls and toads. 'I'lic spidi'i' ami
crickcl were mallei's of the licai'lli, where oiiee had heen
^\)U\\ the inonnlain h'liiaid \>v an oM man to the onK' ehdd
ol" Ins \\id()\\ed son. 'i'hey wrvr, a> 1 am tohl, the last oJ"
a loiiu' line w hieh once lh)urished in IJiilaiii, and with them
their name xvamhl pass inio !'oi'<j( llidness. (hdv the years
of a simile L;<'iiefati(m liaxc elapsed sim-e then, Imt the ducll-
(M"s of yonder nnMinlain a.re sleepinu' in the Lirii^f. And is
tliis j)assiiiir record oi their existenei- tin- onlv inheritance
tliev ha\e lel'i hehiml .' Most true; hnt wonld it ha\-e heen
bvlhr lor them, or lor us, jiad they hequenthed to the wandc.!
a noted iianu' or immense possessions' What is our lite.'

'J'he roule hetueen .Moil! [lelier and I)an\ille lies alono' the
W inoo>lvi. and is m)t less heaiilitul than that down the riv(;r.
Its (diiel' picture is Aiarslilield Waterlall. While at Alont-
p(dier a pleasure ride was u,{)\ up hy some of my iVieiids,
and as they were hound to thi' llast, am! I was hon(n-e»l with
au invitation. I sent on mv baiioiiiic and joimd them, so that
lli(( monolonv ol' mv jouiaiey was eon.siih.'rahly r( lievinl.
We had our lishiiiii-rods with us, and liavinn- stopped at the
tail, we caULiht a line mess ol' trout, wlii(di we had cooked
for dinner at the lU'Xt ta\crn on our wav, — ami our dessert
was fine sinuinLT from the ladies, atid t^ood stories from the
lips of Senator Phelps, who \\as of the partv, and is cele-
brated for his conversational [)ower.s. For further })artic!ulars
concerniiiir that expedition, 1 would refer my reader to that pair
ot eyes whicdi 1 just now meiitiomMl as Inivina' beamed upon
me with a hewit(dun<r brilliancv. I5ut alas! the dear creature
is already — excus(3 me, 1 cannot. 1 will not sjxndv the liateful
word. 'J'he hicdvy fellow ouljIiI to carry a liberal and kind
soul hereafter, if he has never doiu' so Ixd'ore.

At coid'i-crowiiii,'- this moriunn- I was anain in mv seat out-
side of the staire-coach, anxiously waitiii<r for tiie mists to

100

A TOT'U TO Tlir. KT\ i:r SAcrF.NAV.

5'! 1

('v;i|)itr:it(' ill llic K:ist. The sun jjrovcd to !>(> my iViciul,
and as soon as lie ajjpcarcd, llicx' \:misl)('(l like a iViLililf'iicd
Irooj). :iiid he was inandniiir up die sk\- in the plcniludc of
Ids nlory. And \\\{'\\, lor tlif lirst lime, did my vision rest
ui)on the ^\ Into Mounlains, as tlicv reposed in llie distance,
like a miiihlv herd ol' eanuds in the solitude of \\\{) desert.
In the (diarniiiii!" valley of the ( "onneetieni wo oidv tarried
about ten nnnutes, hut lonn enouuh I'oi' nu' to h(\ir the nio\V(M'
wliel iiis scythe, th(> "lark sinu' loud and liiah." and the plea-
sant tinkle of a cow Ixdl far away in the hroad nn'adow.
AN'hile there 1 took a sketch, wherein I introduced the lalhcr
ol" \ew I'jiLiliiiid rivers, and the hald peak ol" Mount Lafay-
(Mte, with the storin-indicted scar upon its hrow. A noble
inonument is yonder mountain to the memorv of a noble
man.

AN bile breakfastinn; at Littleton tins niorninir, 1 eainc^ to tlie
conclusion to leav(! niv bajiuaae and visit Franconia. I
juni])ed into the staiio, and alter a very j^leasant ride ol" seven-
teen miles, found myself far in/o the Notcb, in the midst of
whose scenery 1 am to rep()s(> this nin^ht. I reached here in
time to enjoy an early dinner with " mine iiost ;" aftcn* which I
sallied forth to examine the wonders of tbe place, but I \vas
so deliobtcd with everytbiuii' around that 1 did not take time
to make a single sketcli. I saw the Flume, and was aston-
ished. It is a cliasm in tbe mountain, thirty feet wide, about
a bumlred deep, and some two thousand lonu', and as reirular
in its sbape as if it had been cut by tbe band of man.
Bridgino- its centre is a rocdv of many tons wei<rbt, Mbi(di one
Avould suppose could oidv bav(> been burled tb(>re from the
lieavens. 'I'brou^b its centre jlows a little brook, wbicli
soon passes over a succession of rocky slides, and M'biidi are
almost as smootli and wbite as marble. And to caj) the
climax, this Flume is tbe centre of as perfect and lioly a
Avilderness of scenery as could be iniau'ined.

TFFE OT,I) MAX OF Tlfi; MOIMAIN.

i<»:

I li;i\(> :ils() seen ^\vli;il should he tlic j)|-i(lt' ol llic .Merri-
mack, as it is jipoii one ol its Irilxitaric- ;, ilic most s(i|)crl'>
])ool ill this whole coiuitrv. Tlie tall ahove it is not r( iiiark-
ahle, hill the rorrsl-ccu ered roeks on either side, ;iiid the pool
itsellare woiiderrully tiiic. In the lirst plaee, voii must remem-
ber thai the w;ilers of fliis w hole reirioii are cold as ice, and
verv (d(Mr. 'I'lu; j)()ol lorms ;i eir(de ol'ai)(»iil one hundred feci
in diameter, and is s:u(\ to he lil'iv leet in deplh. ()uiiiLr to
the fall il is the '* head-iiiiarters" of the trout, w iiiidi aie loiiiu]
all alonii' tlu.' stream in iffeat al)iindanc(>. After I iiad com-
pleted a drawinuf, i laid aside m\' peiudls and fixeil m\' llsli-
iiiii-rod. I threw the line Ofi^j/ ahoiil two hours, and caiiifht
forty-li\'u trout. Amonu" them was tlie lireai-iirandfather ol
all trout, as I thought at tin lime ; — lie was seventeen inches
lonii", and weighed two ])ounds and one (Minc(\

'J'he ()1(1 Man of ihe Mountain i-^ another of the lions of
tliis place. It is a ('()ne->haj)ed mounlain, (al the foot of
Avhi(di is a small lake,) iij)()n w hose to[) are some ro(d\S, \v!dch
have a resemhlaiice to the i)rolile ol" an oKl man. it is really
a Acry curious atlair. 'J'herc? the i^\i\ fellow stajids, as he has
stood periiaps for eeiilurii^s, " lookiiiL'" the w hoh" world in the
lace." I wonder if the thunder ne\'er iViiihteiis him I and
(Iocs the lio-htninu: play around his !)row without making- him
wink? His business there, I se cose, is to j)roleei the "un-
granted lands"' of New IlampshiVL', or l^'cp Isaac, Hill from
lectiirinir die A\'hito Mountains on lioeofocoism. He need
not trouble himself as to the first fear, for they eould not be
deeded even to a hear: and as to iIk; second, I don't beli(!vc
the mountains could ever 1)(> persua.ded to vote for tlu,' ac([iiisi.
tion of new territory. I']very plant ui)on tiiem speaks of
Ireedom, and in their fastnesses does [\\v eanle linil a home;
their banner synd)ols arc the stars and stripes, and therefore
thev must be Whias.

And

another curiosity w liiidi everybody goes to see, i?

A TOI'R TO THE RIVKR SAOrENAY

I' i

eallcd llif IJns^in — nn rxqtiisito little spot — fit for the abode
of ,'i very aiiucl. It is Ibniu'tl in tlu^ solid rock, and tlion<r|i
twenty icct in depth, yon can see a sixpence at the hottoni —
it is so wonderl'ully clear. Hut the wild beauties of this
Notch, unknown to faino, are cliarininir l)oyoiid compare.
TIktc <:o('s the inidniirht warniiiix of the clock, and I jnust
retire. Wor.ld that my dreams miirlit be of yonder star,
now beaniinu- with intense briirhtness above the dark outline
of tlie nearest mountain !

The distance from Kniirht's tavern to tlio western outlet of
Francoiiia Notch is eiirht miles. The eastern staire was to
pass throuuh about the middle ol" the afternoon, so that after
catin<r my breakfast I started on, intendinir to enjoy a walk
between the mountains. With the conceptions and feelinf^s
tbat were with me then, I should have been willimr to die,
for I was very happy. Now as I sat upon a stone to sketch a
mass of foliaire, a little red squirrel came within live feet of
me, and commen(U'(l a terrible chatterini»;, as if his lady-love
had given him the "mitten," and he was blowina' out ai^ainst
the whole female sex ; and now an okl partriduc with a score
of childr( n came trippinir alonn" the shadowy road, almost
within my reach, and so fearless of my presence, that I
would not have harmed one of them for a crown. IJoth of
them were exceeding-ly simple pictures, and yet Uiey allbrded
me a world of pleasure. I thout^'ht of the favorite haunts of
these dear creatures, — the hollow tree, — the bed of dry
leaves, — the cool sprinnf, — the mossy yellow log", — the rocky
ledges overjirown with moss, — the iiurjrlinir brooklet stealiuir
throuti;h tlie trees, with its fairy water-falls in a iri'ecn shadow
and its spots of vivid sunliirht,' — and of a thousand other kin-
dred p;cnis in the wonderful pallc'ry of Nature. And now
as I walked onward, peerinij: into the gloomy recesses of the
forest on either side, or ilxed my eyes upon the blue sky
with a few white clouds floating in their g'lory, many of my

Tin: I'.ALi) ka(;t.k

109

favoriK; sollL^'< were n'mcin'M'rctl, :iii;| in w >\y\i' /ti (i//i(ir/i/
my own, I j)()iir('il them iijioii ilir :iir, whidi were aiisucrt'il hv

immiinlx tihI iiiouiilaiii crluK'

Notli

il tl

iiiiL'' hail tliPV tn do Willi

tlic place or with each ollit'i-, hiil likr the piflin'cs aroniid mo,
llioy wpro a divine food lor niv soul — so iliat I was in the en-

joymenl of a lieavenly feast. No

I loidxcd tlirouL^li tlic

openinL'' trees, T saw an eaule lloatini: a!)ove ilie summit ol
a miuiity elill', — now, with the speed of a fidhnii' ^\'U\ (h'seeiul-
iiiii; iar into the h'afv (h'pths, and tlien, siowly hut >urelv as-
c'CiKhiiL;-, until hi(hh'n from view hy a jiassiiin- (doud. I'ly
on, j)roud hir(K niorious symhol of my country's free(h)m !
AVhat a nod-like life is thine I Thou art the "sultan of tho
skv," and from thv eranLfv home forever lookest upon the
abodes of man with indillereiu'c and scorn. 'J'lu war-whoop
of tlie savaL'(\ the roar of artillery on the hlooily hattle-fudil,
and tin; loud i)oom of the ocean cannon, have fallen upon
tliv ear, and lliou hast listened, utterlv heedless as to whom
bcloniicd the victory. AVlial strenuth and power are in ihy
puiions ! traversinir in an Jioiir a wider space

'■Than yonder ij'idhur .-liij). willi all her >;iils
W(jiiiii;,'- the wind.-, raa crn-- lb 'in morn till rv( !''

When tliy huuL^'er-sliriek echoes throuuh the wilderness, with
terror does the wihl animal seek his ilen, for thy talons arc
of iron :ind thine eyes of tire. But what is thy messat(e to
the sun ■ Far, far into the zenith art thou L^nie, forever gone
— emblem of a miuhtv hope that onc(! was mine.

My thoutrlits were upon the earth onc(.' mor(!, and my feet
upon a hill out of tlie woods, whence mit>ht be seen the lon((
broad vallev of the Amonoosack meltin<r into that of the
Connecticut. Lonii' and intently did I <raze upon i\n) hmd-
scape, with its unnumbered farm-liouses, reposini^ in the sun-
light, and surmounted by pyramids of liLdit-blue smoke ; and
also upon the cattle grazing on a thousand hills. Presently

110

A roi'll TO Tin: KIVKR SA(;rKXAY

!«

I licMrd tlh' ratlliiii: wheels oC the stiiire-eoaeli, — one m(»n;

look

o\ (

r llie eliariiiiii'J: valh.'V, — ami I was in iiiv seat hoidc

the coaeliiiiaii.

Ill view of tho forci^oinir and forlli('(»niin<( facts, I cannot
but conchidc, tliat I am a most lucky fellow. .My ride iVoiu
Fraiiconia to liittleloii was attended with this interestinu- cir-

iirc

eiimstanco. A very prettv yoiiiiii' lady, who was in the st
found it neccssai'V to (dianiro Iut seat to llu; outside on ac-
ci)uiil of the confinement within. Of ccjurse, I welcomed
hc;r to my side with unalloyed pleasure. 'J'he scenery was
fine, hut what does my reader suj)pos(; 1 cared for that, as
I sal there talkini:' in a most elo([ueiit strain to my comi):iiiion,
with my rinht arm around her waist to keep her from fallin<r.'
That conduct of mine may apjx'ar " shockiuLi" to those who
hav(! " never travelh'd,'' hut it was not only an act of j)olile-
ness, hut of absolute necessity. rSeither, as my patient's
smile told mc, " was it bad U) take.'' And iiow deliuluful
it was to have her elini^ to mo, and hear the Ixniting" of her
heart, as the driver swuiiir his whip and ran his horses down
the hills! Animal Mai«netism is, indeed, a great invention —
and I am a believer in it so far as the touch of a beautiful
woman is concerned.

Away, away — thoufrhts of the human world I for I am en-
tering into the heart of the AVhite Mountains. Ah mo\ how can
I describe these glorious hierarcdis of New England ! How
solemnly do they raise their rugged peaks to Heaven! Now,
in token of their royalty, crowned with a diadem of clouds;
and now with every one of their clilfs gleaming in the sun-
light like the pictures of a dream! For ages have they held
communion with the mysteries of the midnight sky. The
earliest beams of the morning have batlied them in livinnr
light, and theirs, too, have been tlie kisses of departing day.
Man and his empires have arisen and decayed ; but they have
remained unchanged, a perpetual mockery. Upon their sum-

Tin: W IIITK MOINTAINS.

I
?

mils 'I'iiiic li;is iic\(T cliiimcd (loiiiiiiion,

'J'

life, ;is o! old

(Iocs ilic (Mu'.c t('-ic!i licr Itrood to ll\ , :iii(l ilicrc does ihc w iUl

)r;ir prowi iit'ti r \\\< [Htv

'I'i

ici'c do llir wiitcrlal

<ldl 1

(■;il)

:uid >li(illl on their \\;i\ to the dells l)elo\\ , even ;is when tlic

tired lii(!i;in Imiiter, ><»ine hunt

ired

:iLi'es nnonc. Itent hini to

i[n;iir the litjuid element, 'i'here, still, does the rank Lirass
rustle in the hrcc/.e, and the pine and cedar and hendork

take part in the hou linn- ot' the uale

[)on man alone 1 ills

the heavy curse ol' lime; .Nature has never sinned, tiierclbrc
is her Lrlorv immortal.

s IS we

known, the

hiul

lest ol" these mountains was

christeiu'd at'ler our heloved Washiniiloii, and with it,

as willi

him, are associated tli

e names ol .lellerxui

Mad

ison aiu

Adams. Its lieiolit is <;ii(| to ije six thousand and eiiiht huii-
dretl le( t al)0ve the sea. hut owiiiL"" lo its situation in the crn-
frc ot" a brotherhood ol hills, ii does mjt dppiar to he so oraiid
ail ohjecl as South I'eak .Mountain amoii'i the ( 'at>kills. Its
summit, like most oi' its comjianions, is destitute ol' veuicla-
tioii, and tlK.'rel'ore more desolatt' and monotonous. It is
somewhat ol" an undertakiuii- to ascend Mount W ashinuloii,
tlioui,di the trip is perl'ormed on liorsehatdv ; hut if the wea-
tlier is (dear, the traveller will he well repaid ("or his labor.
The paint(!r will i^e j)lea>ed w ith the views he nuiv ('(immand
ill asceiuliiii;' the route from Crawford's, which abounds in
tiie wildest and most diversilled charms of mountain scenery.
But the prospect from the snminil of Washington will mostly
excite tlie soul of the [)0(,'t. .Not so miudi on account of
what he will behold, but for the brcdllih-^s fcvlhi'j; whi(di will
make iiim deem himself for a moment lo be an aiiiicl or a
tiod. .Viid there, more than ever, if lu^ is a (,'hristian, will
he desire to be alone, so as to autitdpale tlie bliss of Heaven
by a holy communication with the Invisible.

I spent a night upon this mountain, and my first view of
the prospect \vas at break of day, when, as Millon says,

112

A TOi'R TO Tin: iu\ rii sAra'EXAY.

i\(l\;iiii'ii)'i, b(j\\'(l tlic carlli witli orinit, [iciiiis,"

riiKl

" Wiilccd liy till' cilvliiiLT lioiir-; with rri^y lirtuil
riiliiin'ril ihc •j.;iir< df liijlit,""

or wJicii, in tilt? liuiLniage oC Sliakspcuro,

"'J'lic '-;r;i\-('yi'il iii'irii Miiih'il mi the iVi iwniiiLr imliIiI,
Clii'ckL'riii.u tlic (.'uslrni cluiicl.-- with .-Irciik.- nt' li-hi."

AV'oiulcrrullv vasi and strangely indistinct and drcaniv wn>
llic SL'cnc spread out on cvcrv side, 'i'o tlu! west lay the
super!) ( 'onnecticut, with its I'ertile valley reposini; in the
i^looni ol" niaht, wliilo to tlie east, the occ^an-honnded pros-
pect, just l)urslin{r into the life of lijrht, was i'ainlly relieved
by \VinnipiseoL''(.'(! and Sebauo lakes, and like ro(d<ets alonjr
tlic earth, wandered away the Merrimack, the Saco and the
Androsconsxin, to then" ocean honns — llu; whole IbrniinL'' an
€])ic /((ii(l'Sr(fpc, such as we seldom hehold e\cej)tiiiir in our
sleep. Heavens! with what cx(juisite (.leliuht did 1 ufaze
U])on the scene, as in the eyes of truth and lancy it exjiandcd
belbre my mind. Yonder, in on(3 of a hundred villaues, a
vounu" wile, with her rirst-I)orn child at her side, was in the
midst oi' her morning- dream : and there, the pilurini of four-
score y(>ars was lyinij on his cou(di in a iltful slumber, as
the ])ains of a^c creeped throuufh his frame. 'I'here, on the
Atlantic shore, the li.>^herman in tlie shelterinji' hay, hoisted
antdior and spread his sail for the S(>a ; — and there the life-
star of the liiihth()us(! was extiniruishcd, again at its stated
tin;e to appear with increased brilliancy. In reality, there
"Was an ocean of mountains all around ine; but in the dim
light of the hour, aiul as I looked down upon them, it
seemed to me that 1 stood in the centre ol' a plain, boundless
as the universe ; and though I could not see them, I felt tiiat
I was in a region of spirits, and that the sunnnit of the mount

.»•

■.#

^1^

THE NOTCH VALLEY.

113

was lioly ffrouiul. lint tho morniiiir was advanciiiir, ttic
risiiiir mists obscured tny vision, and, as I did not wish to
liavc tliat day-break picture dissipated iVoni mv mind, I
mounted my I'ailliful horse, and wiili a solemn awe at heart
descen(h'(l the mountain.

The ride from the Notch House, kept bv the ceh'lirated
hunter named Crawford, tlirouuh the \olch \ ahey some
•twelve miles loni^, is mairnilicent. First is tho (Jap itself, only
soiue twenty feet in width, u\n\ overhunir with iafrned rocks
of wondrous hei<rht: and then the tiin' sjirinsi, alive with
trout, which ijives birth to the untamed Saco. A few more
downward steps, and you are in full view of a blutf, whose
storm-scathed brow seems to prop tin; very heavens, — its
gray sliadows stronirly contrastinnf with the de(>p blue skv.
A little furdier on, and you lind yourself in an anii)hilheatre
of mountains, whose summits and sides are barren and deso-
late, where the storms of a thousand years hav(> exhausted their
fury. Downward still and further on, :uid you come to the
memorable Wilev coltaire, whose iidiabitauts perished ii, the
avalanche or slide of 182(). The storm had been unceasino-
for some davs upon the surroundini!" country, ami llie dwell-
ers of the cottaL'^e were startled at midniLiht by the i'alliiiir
earth. They lied — and were burii^l in an instant, and up
to the present time, only one of tin; seven bodies has ever

been found. As it then stood, the dwellinir still stands

a monument of mysterious escapi;, as well as of tlie incom-
prehensible decrees of Providence. 'J'he Saco river, whicfi
runs through the valley, was lifted from its ori<rinal bed, and
forced into a new channel. 'I'he whole [)lace, which but a
slujrt time bel'ore was a " oeautii'ul and verdant openinir
amid the surrounding rudeness and deep shadow, is now like
a stretch of desolate sea-shore after a tempest, — full of wrecks,
buried in sand and rocks, crushed and g-round to atoms."

After witnessing so much of the grand and gloomy, 1 was
8

?ft"fv'.i-,»S>.«^.-

114

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAOUKNAY.

^l;i(l to retrace my course to a loss dreary country My last
view (tf -Mount Washinjriou and its lordly companions was
the most hc.anlifdl. The sun was near liis sotlin<r, and the
whok; sky was covered with a glow ol" richest yellow and
<;rimson, while to the eastward hung two immense copper-
.•-olored clouds just touching the ouUiue of the mouiilains;
and through the hazy atmosphere, the mountains themselves
looked (doud-like, hut with more ol" the hriohi hlue of heaven
n})on tiiem. In die extensive middle distance laded away
wood-crowned hills; and in the foreground reposed an exqui-
site little larm, with the hushandman's liapj)y abode, almost
hidden by grou})s of elms ; and the simple figures, only a
lew paces ofl', of a little girl sitting on a stone, with a bunch
of summer flowers in her hand, and a basket of berries
and a dog at Jier side. One more yearning gaze upon the
dear old mountains, and 1 resumed my pilgrimage towards the
north.

last

CWW'VWM X

y\i iiiiii'iii.

Moilhidl. JlUK'.

With some tliinir^^ in Moiilrcal 1 !ia\(' been pleased, hut
wilii others a irootl (h'al (hssaiislied. The appeaianee wliich
it piH'seiils iVoiu every j)()iiil of \iew is iiiipo-ino jn ihi! ex-
treme. Its iiimieroiis ehureli towei's and e\teiisi\e hhx'ks
ol stores, its extensive shippiiin- and nohie stone wharves,
conihine to u'ive one an iih-a ol' ureat wi'ahh and hheraUly.
On first ridiua- to my lioteTl was strurk with the (leaidiness
ol its streets, and, on heinsx shown to mv room, I was eon-
vineed that the hotel itself ( I )onenana"s; was of tlu' first
water. 'I'he eity ahounds in pidilie huiidiiiiis, which arc
usually built of limestone, and it extends alonu' the I'iver St.
Lawreneo al<oul three miles. The streets, in the older parts
of the town, are as pictures(|ne and narrow as those of the
mor(> aiK'ii lit cities of the Old World, hut in the modern por-
tions they are (piile regular ami eomfortable. 'J'he princi-
pal street is y<)irr iJatiic, which always presents, on a plea-
sant ilay, a i;ay, and eleiiant appearance.

Geiiera.lly speaking", its ehiirehes are below niedioerity,
but it has one arcdiitiH'tural lion worth menlioniuix — the
Catholic cathedral. It faces a st[uare called Place (fJirmes,
and presents an imposinir appearance. It is built of stone,

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGUENAY.

r I

and said to be after tho Norman-Cifotliic order of arcliitectiirc:
but I .should think it a mixture of a dozen dis-orchrs. Its
extreme lenijjtli is 225 feet, breadth llJf), and its }ieii^ht72 feet.
Il ;dso has two towers, wliicli measure 220 feet to their sum-
mit. 'J'he windows in these towers are closed with coarse
boards, and yet it cost $ 100,000. The jrround floor is covered
with pews capable of seating 8000 people, while the aisles
and (rjilleries mi<rht hold 2000 more. The jralleries are sup-
ported by ivoodin ])illars, which reminded me of a New York,
barber's sign. The interior has a naked and doleful appear-
ance ; the large window above the altar is wretchedly painted :
the altar itself is loaded with gew-gaws; and of die many
paintings which meet you in every direction there is not one
ibr which I would pay ten dollars. The organ resembles a
bird-house, and the music perpetrated there every day in the
year would jar upon the ear of even an American Indian.
And when it is remembered that this church was built by
one of the wealthiest corporations on the (Continent, it is utter-
ly impossible to entertain a feeling of charity towards the
founders thereof.

The population of Montreal is now estimated at forty
thousand, one-half of w'hom are Koman Catholics, one
fourUi Protestants, and the remainder nothing in particular.
By this statement it will be readily seen that the establish-
ments of the Catholics must be the most abundant. Nun-
neries are consequenUy quite numerous, some of them well
endowed, and, to those who have a passion for such affairs,
must be exceedingly interesting.

But 1 wish to mention one or two additional specimens of
architecture. The market of Montreal is built of stone, located
near the river, and remarkably s])acious and convenient in all
its arrangements. It eclipses anything of the kind that we can
boast of il. the States. The only monument of any note in the
city is a Doriccolumn, surmounted with a statue, and erected

MONTREAL.

117

111 iioiior of Lord Nolsoii. 'Vhv ciiUre coluniii is seventy iect
higli, and «rives an air of elegance to that portion of Notre
Dame where it stands. On the four siihvs of tlie pedestal are
pictorial representations, in alto relievo, representing Nelson
in some of his memorable battles. It was erected by the
British inhabitants of Montreal at a cost of near six thousand
dollars.

One of the most striking peculiarities of tiiis city is
the fact that everybody has to live, walk and sleep at the
point of a bayonet. Military ([uarters are stationeil in va-
rious i)ortions of the city, and soldiers meet you at every
corner, marching to and fro, invariably pulled up with igno-
rance and vanity. The last woman, I am sorry to say, who has
become an outcast from society, attributes her misforluut! to
a soldiiT ; the olllcers, however, who rub; these militarv slaves,
are, g(Mierally, well eilucaled and agreealile geiillcuu'ii. lUit
these are not without their faults, and, if 1 miirht be allowed
the exi)ression, I would add, that they appear suprenu'lv ridi-
culous whenever they march into a church, on llu; Subbalh,
with their swords dangling between their lei^s, and looking
down upon the praying congregation in all the '* pomj) and
circumstance of war."

The people whom you meet in the streets of Montreal
seem to come from almost everv natiijn in the world. Now
it may be the immensely ])ompous I'lmxlishman, who repre-
sents some wilderness district in Parliament; and now it
may be the cunniiiir 8cotchm;m, or ;i half-famisliL'd Irishman.
Sometimes it is the speculating American, or the humble and
industrious Jew ; the gay and j)olite Habitan, ov a irroup of
wanderniL'" Indians from the far north. 'J'he better class of
Montreal people (so called by a fashionable world), are the
British settlers, or, rather, the English population. Generally
speaking, they are highly intelligent, and somewhat arbitrary
in expressing their opinions ; but they entertain hospitable

118

A TOT'R TO THE RIVER SAOUENAY.

foeliiii^s towards stranir<'rs. They l)o:ist of their mother
country, as if her gh)ry and power were omnipotent; and an
occasional individual may l)C ibund wiio will not scruple to
insult an American if he happens to defend his own. In
religion, they ar(j generally ]']piscopalians ; they hate the
Habitan, look with contem])t upon the poor Irish, and address
their brethren of Scodand with a patronizintr air. They drink
immense (quantities of wine, and those who happen to be the
illiterate members of the Provincial Parliament, think them-
selves the greatest people on earth.

The island upon which Montreal is located, is seventy
miles in circumference, and was once (if not now), the pro-
perty of an order of Catholic priesthood. In the rear of the
city rises a noble hill, called Mount l^oval, from which it
derives its name. The hill itself is thickly wooded; but the
surrounding country is exceedingly fertile, and studded with
elegant country-seats, and the rural abodes of the peasantry.
A ride around the Mount, on a pleasant day, is one of the
most delightful imaginable, commanding a view of Montreal
and the St. Lawrence valley which is grand beyond compare.

To appreciate the uni(}ue i'eatures of Montreal, it is neces-
sary that you should be there on the Sabbath, the gala-day
of the Catholics. Then it is that the peasantry flock into the
city from all directions, and, when they are pouring into the
huge cathedral by thousands, dressed in a thousand fantastic
fashions, cracking their jokes, and laughing as they move
along, the entire scene is apt to lill one with peculiar feelings.
It icdb- beautiful to look at ; but the thought struck me that I
should hate to live in the shadow of that cathedral forever.
But if vou chance to take a walk in the suburbs, on a Sab-
bath afternoon, you will notice much that cannot but afford
you real satisfaction. You will find almost every cottage a
fit subject for a picture ; and the flocks of neatly-dressed,
happy, and polite children playing along the roads, together

MONTREAL

119

til frcauent tri'oups ot ><)l'oi nun, .uniu i

the oc

leuniniT <Hit of a window,— a

these thinL^s, I say, coiistilutc

;-:T;'::;:.-:;;:;r;;::::;n'':;.::'::t

tune to

visa it -...un,' .m\ <.'e ,Morc ,.r it. Hi^lHMl .orir.y.

;: i

C H A P T i: R X 1

Quebec.

QkcOic, June.

I CAME from Montreal to this city in the day time, and,
consequently, had an opportunity of examininir this portion
of the St. Lawrence. The river opposite Montreal runs at
the rate of six miles per hour, and is two mil(;s wide; it pre-
serves this hreadth for about sixty miles, and then expands
into the beautiful and cmerald-lookiui^ lake of St. Peter,
after which it varies from one to five in width until it reaches
Quebec, which is distant from Montreal one hundred and
eighty miles. Above St. Peter the shores vary from live to
fifteen feet in height, but below the lake they gradually
become more elevated until they measure some three hundred
feet in the vicinity of Quebec. The country between the
two Canadian cities is well cultivated, and on either side may
be seen a continued succession of rural cottages.

Our steamer approached Quebec at the sunset hour, and
I must say that I have never witnessed a more superb pros-
pect than was presented by the lofty citadel city, the contract-
ed St. Lawrence, the opposite headland called Point Levi, and
the far distant land which I knew to be Cape Tourment. A
slid' breeze was blowing at the lime, and some twenty ships
were sailing to and fro, while wc had to make our way into port

it i

QUEBEC.

121

by wiiuliiiir between and arountl some tlu-ee hunilrctl ships
wliich were at anclior.

I have seen much in tliis goodly eity which has made a
deep impression on my mind. Tlie })ron>ontory called Cape
Diamond upon which it stands, is formed by the junction oi'
the St. Charles and Si. Lawrence rivers, and rises to the
heisiht of three hundred and fifty feet above the water. The
city is built from the water's edjirc alonir ibe base of the clifl\
and iVom thence, in a circuitous manner, ascends to the very
border of the citadel and ramparts. There is but one street
leadiii(( from the lower to the upper town, and that is narrow
and very steep, and the trateway is defended by a number of
larjre cannon. The city is remarkably irre<,adar, and, as
many of the buildinjrs are ipiite ancient, its appearance is pic-
turcsijuc and romantic. The fortifications cover an area of
forty acres, and beneath them are many spacious and gloomy
vaults for the recc])tion of ammunition and stores duriiiir a
time of war. — Recedinir into the interior, I'roin the verv" In'ow
of the fortress, are the plains of Abraham, whicli are covered
with a rich iireen sod, and planted with unnumbered cannon.
Their historical associations are numerous, and, as they would
fill a chapter in themselves, I will refrain I'rom dwelling upon
them, at this time.

The religious establishments of Quebec are quite numerous,
and belong mostly to the liomaii Catholics : like those of
Montreal, they are cpiite ancient and well endowed ; but they
did not interest me, and I am sure my description of them
would not interest my reader. As a matter ol' course, I
visited the French Cathedral. It seems to be as old as the
liills, and yet all the windows of the principal tower are
roughly boarded up. On entering the edifice, which is crowd-
ed w^ith gilded ornaments, 1 could not iix my eye upon a
single object which suggested the idea of richness. 'I'he
sculpture, the paintings, and even the gilding, arc all withoiU

122

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAOirENAY.

merit ; :iri(I what iriTiilly added to my distrust was, that I
coidd notohtaiu a civil answer from a siiiLdeone of tlic maiiv
boorisli men and hoys wlio were fussiniif al)ont the cdiurcdi.
III the front of an extensive; promenade, just below the
citadel, stands the nionuinent creeted to tin; nieniory of Alont-
ealin and Wolfe. 'IMie oentleinan who conlrihuted the larircst
sum lor its erection was Lord Dalhousie. It is a handsome
obelisk, and was desijriied by a military gentleman named
Young. The prhivlpal inscription on the column is charac-
teristic of the English nation, and is >vhat a shrewd Yankee
would call " a pufT of Dalhousie" — even thougii it be
chiselled in Latin. The annoying ell'ect of this inscription,
however, is counteracted by another, which is also in Latin,
and very beautiful, tt was composed by J. C. Fisher, Esq.,
founder of the Quebec Gazette, and is as follows :

"Military vlmic litivo ilicm a (.unniiun death,
HirtDi'V' a (•(iiiimou liimc,
Posterity a coinindii iiioniimcnt.''

The Golden dog is another curiosity which will attract the
attention of the visitor to Quebec. It is the figure of a dog,
rudely sculptured in relievo, and richly gilded, which stands
above the entrance of an ancient house, wdiich was built by
M. Phillibert, a merchant of this city, in the time of M.
Bigot, the last intendant under the French government.
Connected with it is the following curious story, which I
copy from an old record : —

" M. Phillibert and the intendant were on bad terms, but,
under the system then existing, the merchant knew that it
was in vain for him to seek redress in the colony, and deter-
mining at some future period to prefer his complaint in
France, he contented himself with placing the figure of a
sleeping dog, in front of his house, with the following lines
beneath it, in allusion to his situation with his powerful
enemy :

if.

QIFUF.f.

,h' -iii-i nil I'liifii < {iii ii'iiLii' I ns,
I', 11 li- nihL:i;iiit jr pii'hil-. iiiun ri'|)M-. —
I 11 I'TiiH' \ii'tiili;i <{iii ti'ot |i;i.> \rim
(^iif J'- iii< >iili-ii (jiii III ;iiii:i III! inhi."

123

u 'I'l

'I'liis rillciforiciil laii!rii;iu"r was. liowover, \oa [)lniii for
Afons. UiL^ot If) inisiindcrslaiKl it. A man so pouciiul easily
found ail iiistniiiKMit to a\('iiL''<' llio insult, and \I. IMiillihert
reccivtnl, as the reward of his verso, the sword of an ollieer
of the L>[arri.son throui:h his hatdv, when dese(MidinL!' the Tiower
Town Hill. 'IMie murderer was permitted to leave the coUjtiy
unmolested, and was transferred to a reiriment stationed in the
l^ast Indies. 'J'hitlier lie was j)ursued hy a hrotherof the de-
ceased, who had tlrst soiiaht him in Canada, when he arrived
here to s<!ttle l\is hrothcr's allairs. The parties, it is rcdated,
met in the puhlic street of Pondieherry, drew their swords,
and, after a severe eonlliet, the assassin met a more honora-
ble fate than his crime deserved, and died hy the hand of liis
anta<ronist."

I know not that there are any other curiosities in Qiiebec
really worth mentionina, and I willinirly turn to its natural
at'raetions. The fortress itself is undoidjtcdly one of, if not
the most formidable on the continent; but I fell in love with
it on account of its observatory features. To ramble over
its commanding- ramparts, without knowing, or carinj^ to know
a solitary individual, has been to me an agreeable and nnique
source of entertainment. At one time I leaned upon the ba-
lustrade, and looked down upon '.he Lower Town, It was
near the hour of noon. Horses and carriages, men, wotnen
and children, were hurrying- through the narrow streets, and
ships w(>re in the docks discharging their cargoes. I looked
down upon all these things at a single glance, and yet the
only noise I heard was a hum of business. Even the loud
clear shout of the sailor, as he tugged away at the mast-head
of his ship, could hardly be heard stealing upward on the

124

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGTENAY.

air. Doves wore flying about, high above the roofs ; hut ihuy
were so liir below my j)oiiit of vision, tliat 1 could not hear
the heatinu; of their \viii<rs.

JJiit the linest prospcet that I have enjoyed in this city was
from the summit of the ►Sii^nal House, whieh looms al)Ove
the citadel. 1 visited this spot just as the sun was setting,
and everytiiing was enveloped in a golden atmosphere. Be-
neath me lay the city, gradually lulling itself to repose; on
the west, far as the eye could reach, faded away the valley
of the upper St. Lawrence; towards the north, winding its
way between high and well-cultivated hills, was the river 8t.
Charles; towards the eastward, rolling onwards, in its sub-
limity like an ocean, across the continent, was the Hood of the
lower St. Lawrence, whitened by more than a hundred sails;
and towards the south reposed a picturesc^ue country of hills
and dales, beyond which I could just discern some of the
mountain peaks of my own dear " Father Land." Strange and
beautiful beyond compare was the entire panorama, and how
was its inlluence upon me deepened, as a strain of martial
music broke upon the silent air, and then melted into my
very heart! I knew not whence it came, or who were the
musicians, but 1 ''blessed them unaware," and as my vision
again wandered over the far-olf hills, I was quite happy.

The population of Quebec is estimated at thirty thousand,
and the variety is as great as in Montreal. A large propor-
tion of the people whom you see parading the streets are
soldiers, and chief among them I would mention the Scotch
Highlanders, who are a noble set of men, and dress in hand-
some style.

Quebec, upon the whole, is a remarkable place, and well
worth visiting. The environs of the city are also interesting;
and a ride to the Falls of Montmorency, seven miles down
the river, and back igain by an interior road. Mill abundantly
repay the tourist for all the trouble and expense to which he
may be subjected.

s^ s^

riTAPTEH vrr.

A «:iil (Imuii tlic St. l/uvronce — Sword-li-h rhii^iiiL; a \rtiai('

Tadoimtr, Jinu.

I HAVE not visited Can:i(]:i for the purpo.sc of cxarniniiiii
her cities, aiul stiulying the character of her peoph% but solely
with a view of hunting' up some new scenery, and liavinnr a
little 5;port in the way of salmon fishiiiir. 1 am writing this'
chapter at the mouth of probably the most remarkable river
in North America. Hut before enterinir upon a description
of my sojourn here, it is meet, I ween, that [ should give
you an account of my journey down the St. Lawrence.

On reaching Quebec, 1 was informed that there was no re-
gular mode of conveyance down the great river, and that I
should liave to take passage in a transient ship or schooner,
M-hich would land me at my desired haven. This intelli-
gence had a tendency to dampen my spirits, and I had to
content myself with sauntering al)out the citadel city. Among
the places I visited was the tisli market, where it was my
good fortune to find a small smack which had brought a load
of fresh salmon to market, and was on the point of return-
ing to the Saguenay for anoUier cargo. In less than thirty
minutes after 1 saw him, I had struck a bargain with the
skipper, transferred my luggage on board the smack, and
was on my way to a region which was to me unknown.

120

A TOiJit TO thf; river .sagi:knay.

AVc IioisU (1 sail at twelve o'clock, and won' fa^oicd bv a
stifl' westerl}^ l)reeze. I'^verytliino-, iii fact, coiinecicd with
tlie vovaiic was heautifiilly accidental, and [ had "a Lil'naous
time." In the jirst place, our craft was just the thiuL^ —
schoon(.'r-riirii('(l, a last sailer, and pcM'Tectly sale. MMie skip-
per — nanu'd liidland — was a warm-hearted and intelliir(;nt
I'renidiman, wh()>e (Mitire crew consisted ol' one hov. 'J'he
dav was superb, and tin; scenery ol' the ri\('r appeared to me
more Hke the work of eiiehaninunt than nature.

The appearaiu'c of (Quebec. iVom the eastward, is impos-
ing in tilt; extreme. SlandiuL*' as it does upon a lol'ix bhiir,
its massiv(; ramparts and tin-covered roofs, domes, and
cupolas suL''L'"('^^t th(! itlea of immense jnjwer and opulence,
.lust below the city, the St. Lawrence spreads out to the
width of three or four miles, while from the marii'in of either
shore fades away a conliiiued succession of hills, whi(di vary
from live hundred to lifleeii hundred leel in hci<iht. 'J'liose
upon the m)rth shore wvc the hiL''liost. and both sides of the
river, for a distance of some twenty miles below the; city,
are plentifully sprinkled w ilh the v\-hitc cottaii'es of the C.'ana-
dian peasantry. As you ])rocee(l, however, the river ^I'adually
widens, the hills u])on the north shore bet-ome more lofty,
reaehiui; the eh^'ation of two thousand feet ; and, while you
only occasionally disco\-er a farm house uj^on their summits,
the soutlun-n hhore continues to be;a* the apj)earauce of a
settled country, where the spire of a C'athoiic churcdi is fre-
quently seen looming- above a cluster of rural residences. In
dcse(mding the river, the llrst pictorial leatnre whicdi attracts
attention is the Fall of Moulmorency, pouring the waters of
a noble tributary immediatelv into the St. Lawrciuce. .lust
below this fall the ri\cr is divided by the island of Orleans,
whi(di measures about twentv miles in leni»tli, and five in
breadth. It is partly covered with forest, and partly cultivated ;
and, though the shores are rather low, it contains a number

IlEAI TIHL ISLANDS.

127

of jioiiils wliicli arc a hiiiulrcd ftct Iiiiili. Al llic i astern termi-
nation of this i.-land is iIk; parisli of St. Lawreiii, a remark-
ably liilv Freneh village, whose iuluibitanls are said to he as
siiiijdc ill their manners, as they arc virtuous, and iiiiioraiit of
the world al lar'^c. ( )n a smalh'r ishind, wiiieh lies r-ome thirty
miles behtv Quebec, and directly op[)osiie a noble cape called
Tounnent. is located the (juarantine station I'or the shippinir of
the river; and wheiil passed this spot. 1 counted no less than
lortv-live ships at anchor, nearly all of which were freii>hted
with foreiiiii paupers, who were then d\ iuLi' 'd the siiij) fever,
at the rale of one hundred and lit'ty individuals j)cr day.
I miizhl here mention that the vessels usually seen on ibis j)art
of the St. .l/awrence are merchant ships and briu's, whicdi are
chielly ami extensively emj)loyed in the lumber and timber
trade. Another island in this portion of the S,. liawrence,
which attracts atleiition from its pci'uliar sylvan beauty, is
called Uoose Island, and owned by a sisterhood of \iins, who
have cultivated it extensively. 'Vhv eastern j)(»inoii ol' it is
covered with I'orest; the channels on eiilu.'r sitle are not far
from ten miles wide, and it is distant from Quebec about
iifly miles.

We landed here at sunset; ami while m\- coiiipanions were
buildin<r a watch-lire, and cookinu" a sup[)er of lish, pork and
onions, I amused myself by takinii' sumlry observations. I
found the vegelalion of the' island (piile luxuriaiil, the common
hard woods of the north prevailing, but its foundaiion seemed
to be composed of two distinct s|)ecies of slaU.' stone. IJoth
varieties were of the linest gr-ain, and Mhile one was of a
rich Iiulian red, the other was a dee[) blue. 'J'his j)orlion of
the St. Jiawrenee is a good deal blocked up by extensive
reefs, composed of these identical slate stones, and al one
point they extend so nearly across the river as to render ship
navigation extremely dangerous. On subsequently examin-
ing the high hills on the north shore, 1 found them to be of

128

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGITEXAY.

solid Jiranito, veined witli red marble and extensive beds of
quartz, and covered witli a stunted forest of pine and hem-
lock. IJut this ireoloirical dissertation is keepinir niy pen
from descril)inff a niijht picture which it was my jjrivileiJ'e to
witness on this beautiful but badly-named island, where, for
sundry reasons, we concluded to spend the nijrht.

Our supper was ended, and the skipper had j)ai(i liis last visit
to the little craft, and, with his boy, had smoked himself to
sleep by our camp lire. The sky was without a cloud, but
studded with stars, and the breeze which kissed my cheek
was soft and pleasant as the breath of one we dearly love.
I Jiad seated myself upon a rock, with my face turned towards
the north, when my :ittention was attracted by a column of
lipht, which shot upward to the zenith behind the distant
mountains. The broad expanse of the St. liawrence was
without a ripple, and the mountains, toijether with the column
of liii;lit and the unnumbered stars, were distinctly mirrored
in its bosom. While lookinn" upon this scene, the idea struck
me that the moon was about to rise, but I soon saw a crim-
som jrlow stealin<f up the sky, and knew that I was looking
upon tlu; fantastic performances of the Northern Liiihts.
Broad, and of the purest white, were the many rays which
shot upward from behind the mountains, and at equal dis-
tances, between the horizon and the zenith, were displayed
four arches of a purple hue, the uppermost one meltinc im-
perceptibly in the deej) blue sky. On airain turniuir my eyes
upward, I tliscovcrcd that the columns and arches had all
disappeared, and that the entire sky was covered with a
crimson color, which resembled a lake of liquid lire, tossed
into innumerable waves. Stranire were my feeliuirs as I
looked upon this scene, and thouirht of the unknown wilder-
ness before me, and of the IJein^ whose ways are past litulinjr
out, and who holdeth the entire world, with its cities, moun-
tains, rivers, and boundless wildernesses, in the hollow of

A WTFALK STORY.

129

1)(m1s of
(1 hcm-
iiy poll
ilc'irc to
lore, Tor

hist visit
msclt" to
Olid, i)Ut
y cheek
rly love,
towards
^himn of
3 tlistanl
Mice was

[I cohinin

1 • 1

iiiirrorea

struck

a crim-

lookin<r

liiiihts.

rs wliich

[u\\\ dis-

isphiyed

Itinii' im-
iny eyes
had all
with a
|e, tossed
<rs as 1
li wilder-
t finding
, moun-
)llow of

2 a

His li'.md. lionu: and intently did [ liazc upon this wonder
of the Norlli; and at the nionicnl it was fadinu' away, a wihl
swan passed over mv head, sailinir towards IIufls{)n*s IJay,
and as his h)n(dv sonn- (udiood ah)!in' the silent air, I retraced
niv steps ti) the watch-lire^ and was sooti a dreamer.

That [loriion of the St. I/iwronce cxtcudinLi- hetween Goose
Island and lh(; SauiuMiay is about twenty niih's wid(\ 'I'lie
spriniT tides rise and fall a distance of ("iohteen fei^t ; the water
is salt, hut (dt ar and cold, and the (diann(d vtTV de(>p. Iferc
it was tliat I first saw tlu^ hla(dv seal, the wh.ile [)()rpois(;,
and tlie black whal(\ Hut speakintr of whah's, reminds me
of " a whalini^" fish storv. A sliori distance above the .S;i-
i^uenav river, there sliools out into tlin St. Lawrence, to tlie
distance of al>oi!t (MitIu miles, a broad sand bank, w hit h li'really
endani»(M's the navitration. In descend iiiLi" the Lireat river,
we had to double this capo, auil it was at this plac(^ that 1
first saw a whale. 'J'hc lellow had been pursued by a sv/ord-
fish, and when we discovered him, his head Vvis turned
lowards the beacdi, and he was moving" with nreal rajiidity,
occasionally pcrformiiiir a most fearful Icaj), ajul ullci-inu" a
sound that resembled tlie be!IowinL''of a thousand bulls. The
whale must have been fortv l"eet lonu-, aiid his enemy nearly
twenty; and as they hurried on iheir course with urt-at sj)e(!d,
the siiiht was, indeed, terrible, i'ran'ic willi ram; :uid [)ain,
it so happened that the more unwitddy individual toru-ol his
bearinfrs, and in a very few minutes he was llouuderini^
about on the sand bar, in about ten leet of water, wIk n the
rascally sword immediately !)eai a retreat. After a uliilc,
howev(M', the whale concluded \o rest himself, but as ih(>
tide was uoinir out, his intentions wer( soon (duuiued, and
he heii'an to roll himself about, and slap tin; water with his
tail for the purj)Oso of (j^e^ttinnf (dear. His elforts, in a : hort
time, proved successful, and when we last saw him, he was
9

L — «-*-Ji*»iiC**i

•"tf^-l^'^'*''-"--'-'-^-"'-

130

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGUENAV.

ill the deepest part of the river, movintr rapidly towards the
ffulf, and spouting up the water, as if congratulating hiinselt
upon his narrow escape.

In about two hours after witnessing this incident, our boat
was moored at the mouth of the 8aguenay; and of the com-
paratively unknown wilderness which this stream waters,
my readers will find some information in the next chapter.

'ards the
ir himself

, our boat
the oom-
1 waters,
liapter.

CHAPTER XIII.

The S;iiriirn;iy River — Stnn

11 pi.iun.—The TIi„!s..irs I5;.v ('

a JeMiit e>t;iljii>!iineiit.

(iiiipnny —
of

Tar/oitsar, July.

Ano,.T one hnnclr.cl .n,l /If.y miles norll, of tl,c S,. J.„v-
rence, an, „„ one of .he .rails lea,li„. .0 Hudson-. Day, lies
a beaunfui lake called .S.. ,,ol,n. I, is about for.v n,iles 02
and su,.,.ounded wi.h a heavily .in.bered, and ..her l::^,'
coun.ry. I,s inle.s are „un,erous, and twelve of then, are
regular r.vers. Its waters are elear, and abound in a IZ

lake ,s ,he Sa^uenay l{,ver, which .akes a sou.herly diree.ion
and e,np.,es n„o the S,. I,awrenee. It is thelar.c^t .rihutary
of tin. s,.eat r,ve>-,and nnques.ionahly one of .1,,. „,ost re-
ni kal.le on the eontinent. Its original Indian „a,ne was
C uun, s,gn„yn„ ,U.;, ,r,,er; hu. .he early .Fes.n', n.is-

"^u„n>, who have seatte,-ed their Suint-anie names over

iow r """"7',"'"""'" P-l- '» give i, the na,ne whieh
•t no« ea,-s, and the ronn.lahout hnerpre.ation of whieh i,

;o:ro?s ' i:;"- ■'■";— —-i-vorh,. ha..;.*

be looked upon as a nnn.ne s,,ecimen of F.eneh poe.ry

rhe scenery of the Saguenay is wild and rotnan.ie",; a„
uncommon degree, 'riw. (i„.,* i.-.k- ,. .. ^"

The iirst half of its

eouryc avcM'aircs half

132

A TOUR TO THE RIVKR SAGTIENAY.

a milo in width, and runs thron^H an nntroddm wilderness
of pine and sprure-covcrfd hills; it a!)(»imds in waterfalls
and rapids, and is only navigable lor the Indian eanoe. A
few miles below the most southern fall on the river, is loeated
the villai,re of Chicoutimi, where an extensive luinlxM' business
is transacted, and the Hudson's Hay C/ompany have an im-
portant post. The villnire has an ancient appearance, and
contains about live hundred inhabitants, chiefly (';inadian
French. The only curiosity in the place is a rude Catholic
church, which is said to have been built by Jesuit missiona-
ries upwards of one hundred years af^o. It occu])ies the cen-
tre of a grassy lawn, surrounded with shrubbery, backed by
a duster of wood-crowned hills, and commiuids a iin(^ pros-
pect, not only of the Safruenay, but also of a spacious bay,
into which there em})ties a noble mountain stream, now
known as Chicoutimi River. In the belfry of this vene-
rable church bancs a clear-toned bell, with an inscription
upon it wdiich the Icarninir of Canada (with all its lt>arned
and unnumbered priests,) has not yet been able to translate
or expound. But, great as is the mystery of this inscription,
it is less mysterious to my mind than are the motives of the
Romish Church in pbinting the cross in the remotest corners
of the earth, as well as in tiie mightiest of cities.

About ten miles south of Chicoutimi, there recedes from
the west bank of the Sagucnay, to the distance of ten miles,
a beautiful expanse of water called Grand Jiay. The ori-
ginal name of this bay was '" Ua, II a," descriptive of the
surprise which the French experienced when they first en-
tered it, supposing that it was the Sagucnay, until their
shallop grounded on the uorth-western shore. At the head
tliereof is another settlement, similar to Chicoufin,',, Between
these two places the Saguenay is rather shallow, (when com-
pared with the remainder of its course,) and varies in width
from two and a half to three miles. The tides of the ocean

THE RIVER .SAGri:\AV.

133

are ohsorvahlo as far north as Cliicoiitimi, and this entire sec-
tion of the river is naviirahlc for ships of the lars^est chiss.

Thnt portion of the Sairuenav extendinir from Grand Hay
to the St. Lawrenee, a distance of sixty miles, is (xrcally dis-
tinj^nished for its wikl and pieinrcscpie scenery. 1 know not
that 1 can hctter portray to mv rea(hu''s mind the pccidiarity
of this river, than hy the folhnvinir method. Imauinc, for a
moment, an extensive^ connlry of rocky and thinly-clad moun-
tains, sndth'nly separated i)y some convulsion of nature, so
as to form an almost hottomless chasm, varying from one to
two miles in width ; and then imaiiine this chasm suddenly
hall-lillcd with water, and that the moss of centuries has soft-
ened the rniiii(Hl walls on (dther side, and von will have a
pretty accurate idea of the Sairuenav. 'J'he shores of this
river an; composed principallv of <j,ranile, and every hend
presents you with an imposiua' hlull', thi^ miijority of whicdi
are eiiihl humlred feet hiuh. and many of them uj>wards of
fifteen hundceil. And, acnerallv speakiiiLT. t!iis(^ tow(>ring
bulwarks are not content to loom perpendicularly into the air,
but they must ikumIs hend over, as if to look at llieir own sav-
age features rellected in the deep. Ay, and thiit word deep
but tells the simple truth ; for the llood that rolls beneath is
black and cold as the bottondess pit. 'I'o sjx'ak without a
ilgure, and from actual measurement, I can state that many
portions of the Saau(?nay are one thousand feet deep ; and
the shallowest parts not much less than one humb'ed. In
many places, too, the water is as deep live feet from the rocky
barriers as it is in the centre of the stream. 'I'he feelin<rs
which tilled my breast, and the thouLHits whicdi oppressed my
brain, as I padilled by these places in mv canoe, w( re allied
to those wlii(di almost overwhelmed me w hen 1 lirst looked
upward iVom below the fall to the miiihty llood of Niagara.
Awful beyond expression, 1 can assure you, is the sensation
which one experiences in sailing along the Sagucnay, to raise

134

A TOrR TO THE RIVER SAG! EXAY.

liis eye heavenward, and beliold haiii^iiiLS directly over his
licad, a mass of «rranite, apparently ready to totter and I'all,
and vveighiiifr, perhaps, a million tons. Terrible and sublime,
beyond the ima/rery of the most darinjr poet, are these elill's;
and while they proclaim the omnipotent power of God, they,
at the same time, whisper into the ear of man that he is but
as the moth which flutters in the noontide air. And yet, is it
not enough to iill the heart of man with holy pride and un-
bounded love, to remember that the soul within him shall
have but commenced its existence, when all the mountains
of the world shall have been consumed as a scroll?

It is to the Sa<ru(Miay that I am indebtiid for one of the
most imposing storm pictures that I ever witnessed. It liad
been a most oppressive day, and, as I was passing up the
river at a late hour in the afternoon, a sudden gust of wind
came rushing down the stream, causing my Indian companion
to bow, as if in prayer, and then to urge our frail canoe towards
a little rocky island, upon which we immediately landed.
Soon as we had surmounted our refuge, the sky was over-
cast with a pall of blackness, which completely enveloped
the clifl^s on either side, and gave the roaring waters a death-
like hue. Then broke forth, from above our heads, the
heavy roar of thunder, and as it gradually increased in com-
pass, and became more threatening and impetuous, its volleys
were answ^ered by a thousand echoes, which seemed to have
been startled from every crag in the wilderness, while flashes
of the most vivid lightning were constantly illuminating the
gloomy storm-made cavern which appeared before us. Down
upon his knees again fell my poor Indian comrade, and,
while I sat by his side, trembling with terror, the thought
actually flew into my mind that I was on the point of passing
the narrow gateway leading to hell. Soon, however, the
wind ceased to blow, the thunder to roar, and the lightning
to flash; and, in less than one hour after its commencement

BEAUTIES OF THE SAGUENAY,

135

ihe siorin had subsided, and that j)ortion of the Sauiionay
was jrlowini]^ hcnoath the crimson rays of tho scfiintr sun.

From what I have written, my reaih-r may he impressed
with the idea that this river is ineapal)le ot" yiehliiinr phMsnr-
abh^ sensations. Sail ah»iiir it"^ shores, on a plrasimt (h\y,
wlien its cHirs are partly hidden in shadow, and covered with
a i(anze-Ukc atmospliere, and th(>y will fill your lic:irl with
imaLTCS of beauty. Or, if you would oiijoy a still (rn^iter
variety, let your thouirhts llow away upon the blue smoke
which rises from an Indian encampment hidden in a dreamy-
lookinir cove ; let your eye follow an eafjle sweepinir alouL^
his airy pathway near the summit of the clitls, or irlanco
across the watery plain, and see the silver salmon leapiuir by
hundreds into the air for their insect food. Here, too, you
may always discover a number of seals, bobbinir iluMr heads
out of water, as if watchiuij; your every movement ; and, on
the other hand, a drove of white porpoises, rolling their Inigo
bodies aloni^ the waters, ever and anon spouting" a shower of
liquid diamonds into tlie air. () yes, manifold, indeed, and
beautiful beyond conn)are, are the charms of the Satnienay.

Allliouirh my description of this river lias, thus iar, been of
a general character, I would not omit to mention, as perfect
orems of scenery. Trinity Point, Eternity Cape, The Ta-
bleau, and Le Tete du IJoule. The peculiarities of tlu^se
promontories are so well described by their very names, that
I shall refrain from attemptinir a particular description of my

own.

The wilderness through which this river runs is of such
a character that its shores can never be greatly changed in
their external appearance. Only a small proportion of its soil
can ever be brought under cultivation ; and, as its forests
are a good deal stunted, its lumbering resources are Jar from
being inexhaustible. The wealth which it contains is pro-
bably of a mineral character; and if the reports I he:ir are

130

A TOUR TO TIIK RIVER SAGIJKNAY.

rorrtcl, it alxiiiiids in iron orv. 'I'liat it would yield an
:)l)»iiidaii('0 oi liiu.' Jiiarblo, I am certain ; tor, in passinir np
this stream, the ohservinu eye will rre(|nently (all upon a broad
vfMn of an a.rtiele as j)nre as alabaster.

How is it, many peopU? are led to iii(|uire, that so little has
l)(!en know n ol" the SajnuMiay country, until ([uite recently ?
The (juestion is easily solved. It is a portion of that vast
territory whicii has h(?r( tolore Ixmii umler the partial jurisdic-
tion of tli{> Hudson's IJay ('ompany. 1 say j>arlially, lor the
riirhl ol' til, it powerful monopoly, as 1 understand the niatter,
e.xtendeil only to the prt)Ieelion and use of its wild aidinals;
but it has endeavored to convince the would-b(! setthu' that
it was the sole proj)riet()r of the immense; domain, and that
he had no riiiitl to live thereon. Its Posts on the Sa»uenay
and St. Lawrence, so lar as collectiui'" furs is concerned, are
a dead letter, aiul i\w. journeys of its distini<;uiyhed (Governor
are herealler to be conlined to the extreme north.

'i'he man who deserves the most credit for encroachinij
upon the so-calleil ])ossessions of the Hudson's liay Com-
pany, and pro\ini'; U> the world that its powcn* is not without
limit, is ^Villiam Price, lv-;q.,of Quebec. All tlu^ saw-mills
located on the Saguenay and the lower St. Jiawrenco were
(jstablished by him, and are now conducted at liis expense. He
gives emj)loymenl to some two or three thousand men, and
sends to England annually about one hundred sliip loads of
lumber, in the shape of deals. He is a thorough-going busi-
ness man, and, did I not know the fact to be otherwise, I
shoidd set him down (with regard to his enterprise), as a full-
blooded native of the Union. Many of the ships alluded to
ascend the Saguena\' to obtain lumber, as far as Chicou-
timi, and it struck me as singularly i)aradoxical to see ships
winding up that river whose legitimate home would seem to
be the broad ocean. The current of the Saguenay ilows, in
some places, at the rate of seven miles per hour, but when

THE MOlNTAdN.

INDIANS.

137

tluTc is :my wind :it all, ii Mows , imI< hi*:»» v iliicclly iVoiii
the north or south, so that, wiih he assi> .urc oi' Uic tidt',
the nj)\var(l homid ships or hri^s niaii;»<f(' lo u»'t alo, williui;
much dillii'ully. 'J'hc oidy stcamhoat which iia\'"..iU's ih' •
riv(!r is ihc Pocahontas, and is the property of" tr. IVit**;.
She is coninianth'd hy a j^enth-inaii who uiuh rsiamls lun
business; and I can assure the lovers of scenery everv where
that a sail up tln^ Sa«.nienay, in this steanu'r, w oidd he an
event they could not easily lorifet. For the henetit ol' suni-
nier-tonrists, I Moidd lure mention the tact, that, lor ahout
three nuMilhs in the year, a (.iiiehei; steauK r makes an (M-ca-
sional trip to the nio\ilh of the Sairuenay, hv wav ol" the river
J)ii Loup, which is on the Canadian route to llalilax.

In speakiiiL*' of the SaLniena\ , I nuist not omit ti> mention
its oriiiinal proj)rielor.s, a trihe ol' Indians, who are known
as the .Mountaineers. Ol" course ii is the duly of mv pen to
record tin; fad that, where once nourislie(| a laruc nation of
brave and heroic warriors, there now exists a little hand of
ahout one hundred I'aniilies. .luiluinu' from what I have heard
and seen, the Mountaineers were once the \ery liowci of this
northern wilderness, even as the Chippewas were once the
{^lory of the Lake Superior region. The .Mouniaineers of
tlu! ])resent day are sunicicntly educated to speak a smalter-
ino; of French; but thev know nothinuf of the trm- iun\, and
are as poor in spirit as thev art; indiueiii with n^ard to the
necessaries of life. 'J'he men of this nation are rather short,
but well-formed ; and the women are heauliful. They are
proud in spirit, inlellit>ent, and kiml-hearted ; and many of
them, it is pleasant to know% are no longer the victims of the
baneful " lire-w^atcM*." For this blessing they art; indebted to
the Romish j)rieslhooil, which fact I record widi ureal plea-
sure. 'I'he Mountaineers are a j)articidarl\' honest people,
and great friends to the slranger while man. 'i'liey are also
distinguished lor their expertiiess in hunling, and take pleas-

138

A TOI'R TO THK RIVER SAOT'KNAY

lire ill rccoiiiiliiiir the exploits of their fon^ratlicrH. And tlirir
lanj^naire. Mccordinir to :i Catholie missionary, Pierre Me Hoche,
is one of the oldest and purest Indian laniriinires on tlu; con-
tinent. It ahounds in Jjatin words, and is eapai)le of heini^
rejj^ularlv eonstrueted and translated. The (pialities, in line,
which inak(; the history of this people interestin<r. :ire mani-
fold ; and it is sad to think of the rapidity with which they
arc with(;rinir away, even as the leaves of a premature au-
tumn.

Hut it is time that I should j^ive yon a hrief deserij)ti()n of
Tadousac, where I have heen spendinir a few days,, and
whence I date my chapters. The meanin<r of that W(jrd is
a French corruption of the Indian word Sajruenay. It is situ-
ated directly at the mouth of the Satruenay, and commands
a fine prospect of that river, as well as of the St. liawrencc,
which, at this point, is nearly thirty miles in width. Imme-
diately at the base of the hill upon which the hamlet stands, is
a beautiful hay, hemmed in with mountains of solid rock. The
place is composed of houses belonging to an Indian trading-
post, and another dwelling, occupied by a worthy Scotchman,
named (Jvinglon, who is a pilot by profession. The door
of my friend's cabin is always open to the admission of the
tourist, and if others who may chance to stop here are as
kindly treated as I was, they will be disposed to thank their
stars. In front of the trading-post are planted a few cannon,
and directly beside them, at the present time, is a small In-
dian encampment. In a rock-bound bay, about half a mile
north of my temporary residence, is an extensive lumbering
establishment, belonging to William Price. This spot is the
principal port of the Saguenay, and the one where belongs
the Pocahontas steamboat. About a dozen paces from the
table, where I am now writing, is the ruin of a Jesuit reli-
gious establishment, which is considered the great curiosity of
this region. The appearance of the ruin is not imposing, as

AN ANHENT RUN.

i:iO

yon c.-.n .lisrovri nolhinnr h„f i|,e loiin.lations upon wlii.-I, the
unci.Mt iMliticc rost.Ml; l„,t it is coMli.i.Mitlv allinn..i that upon
this sp.,t emeu stood tl,(. first stone ami mortar f,uil.li„.r ,.vrr
erecML'.l on tlip conliiu-nt of \ortli America. \,„I tliis'state-
/JHMit I am not disposed to (piestion, f„r from the verv eentrc
of the ruin has i-rown a ehister of pine trees, wlii.'h must
have been exposed to the wintry hlasts of at h-ast two hun-
dred years. Tlie, fate, and the very names of those who f.rst
pitched th.'ir tents in this wihlcrness, and here erected an altar
to the C;o,l of their fathers, are alike unknown. Who, who
can tell what shall be on the morrow?

C II A PTi: K XIV.

'J'lic s;iliii(iii — Scvcnil advcntiirt's.

I INTF.M) to (l(>votr tlir present clmpler to tli(> ncktHMvlcdtrrd
kiiiil' ol" :ill tli(> liiiiiy Ii'ihes, t!i(> lillie, wiKl and hcaiitirul sal-
mon. He pays an annual visit to all tin; trihntarics of the
St. Iia\vr(MU-(' lyino- between l^nel)ee, and Hie Islaml, (where
eoniinences the dull" of St. liawrence,) hut he is nu)si ahun-
danl (»n the north sliore, and in tiiose streams which are he-
yond \\\c iuristhclion of eivinzalion. Il(> usuallv makes Ids
llrst nppearaiu'c about the Iwentii-th ol' May. ami eonlinues
in season for two months. Ni^u'l)' all th(^ streams in this re-
ilion abound in waterfalls, but those are seklom found whi(*h
the sahnon does not surmount in his "■ excelsior" j)i!i:riinane ;
ami the stories related of his hvaps \\\v Irulv wonderful. It
is not ot'tcMi that he is found, tnan !)ouiul at the head ol" the
streams he may have ;iseended; but when thus Ibuud and
caplnrcnl, his llesli is whit(\ skin black, and his I

orm,

ioni''.

lank

I 1

can as is the ri

bhed

sea-saml

IS weiiilil IS

commonly about rifteeii pounds, but he is sonnnimes taken

weiohini>- full forty pound

'i'h

e salmon is an important

article ol export Irom this re<i:ion, and is also extimsively used
by the Indians. The common mode for takinir them is with
a stationary net, which is set just on the margin of the river,

■1

SAf,M()\ riSlIlNfi.

at low water. Il is ciislomarv with tlir salmon l(» a^i-ctid the
St. Lawrence as near the shore as pos^^ihh-, and their rnnninif
time is when llie ti(h' is hiiih ; the (Mmsecinenee is, that, they
enter the net. at one tide, and are taken (nit at another; a.nd
it is rretpiently the ease, that npwards of three hundred arn
taken at one time. 'J'he Indian mo(h' tor taking them is with
lh(; spear, liy torchliirht. 'I'wo hnUans L!('nerallv enter a ca-
noe, and while one packlles it nois<'lesslv alon<r, the other
holds lorth the liirhf, (which attracts tlu! attention ol" tho iisli,
and causes iheni to apjiroacdi their enemv.) and pierces them
with the cruel sp(!jir. 'I'his mode of takini( the salmon is to
he d(>precat(Ml ; hut tin; savaire must live, and possesses no
other means lor catcdiiiiir tluMii. It is hut seldom that the In-
dian lakes mor(; than a dozen duriuir a sinirle ni'dit, lor lie
cnniiot allord to waste tin; hoimties which he receives iVom
Nature. l''(n* ])reservintr the salmon, the Canadians have
three modes: — I'irst, hv i)Uttini[; them in salt lor \\\rvj) davs,
and then smokinii; them; secondly, hy remdarly saltinjr them
down as you would ma(d<erel ; and, thirdiv, hv hoiliuL"; imd
then ])icklinL;" lluun in vincL'^ar. 'J'he Indians smoke them;
but oniv to a limited extent.

I must iu)w^ <riv(! you some account of my experience in
the way of salmon-fishin(r with the lly, of which glorious
sport 1 have rticently had an ahundauce. if, however, [
should imlite a nutnher of episodes, you will please rf;-
memher that " it is mv way," and that I deem it a |)rivilei»-e
of th(> anL>ler to he as wayward in his discourse as lu'v. the
channels of his favorite mountain streams.

My lirst salmon expedition of the seastui was to the St.
Marf^niret Jiiver. 1 liad two com|)anions with me; oiu', an
aceomplisheil lly-fisher of (iuehec, and the other, the princ'i-
pal man of Tadousae, a lumher mamifacturer. VV C went in
a gig-hoat helonging to the latter, and, having started at nine
o'clock, we reached our place of destination hy twelve. We

142

A TOUR TO THK RIVER SAGIKNAY.

found ilu- river unromuiouly liitrh, and a littk; rily. \\ v made
a dc'sj)crate od'ort, liowever, and threw the line about tlirce
liours, caj)tiirini( four sahiion, only one of wliiidi it was my
privilt'ire to take. He was a

hand:

ome

fell

ow. weiLnimu seven-

teen ])ounds, and in cfood condition; he alTorded niy com-
panions a irood deal of fun, and placed me in a jieculiar situ-
ation, lie had taken the hook when I was wadinii in swift

water up to my middle, and soon as he di

iscovered his j)redi-

cament, he made a sudden wheel, and started down the strea

that 1 must allow h

My rod bent nearly double, and l saw tliai i must allow nmi
all the line he wanted; and havinir only tliree hundred leet
on my reel, I foimd it nec(^ssary to follow him with all speed.
In dointr so, I lost my footinir, and was swej)t by the current
against a pile of lo<rs ; meantime my reel was in the water,
and whiz/ino' away at a tremendous rate. The lo<r upon
which I depended hap[)ened to be in a balancinir condition,
and, when I attempted to surmount it, it pluiiLnnl into the cur-
rent, and floated down the- stream, havinir your humble serv-
ant astride of one entl, and clinjjing' to it with all his miiriit.
Onwaril went the salmon, the loo-, -and the llsherman. Finally
the lo<r found its way into an (hUIv of the river, and, while
it was swinirino" about, as if out of mere deviltry, 1 left it, and
fortunately reached the shore. My life having' been spared,
I was more anxious than ev(M- to take the liib of the salmon
wliich had caused my duckina-, and so I held aloft the rod,
and continued down the stream, over an immense number of
loga and rocks, which seemed to have been placed there for
my especial botheration. On cominii in siixht of my lish, I
found him in still water, with his belly turned upward, and
completely drowned. I immediately drew him on a sand-
bank near I)y, and, while enuaged in the reasonable employ-
ment of drying my clothes, my brother fishermen came up
to congratulate me uj)on my success, but lauoiiing, in the
mean time, most iieartily. The lumber merchant said that

•1

SALMON" FISHING ADVKNTI'RES.

143

tilt' l(»ir I li:i*l b('t'n ridiiiij' beloiiircd to liiiii, and it \v;is liis in-
tention to charue nic; one sliillinir lor ni\' j)assai.n' Iroin the
rift where 1 liad liooked the salmon, to tiie spot when^ 1 had
landed him, which was in full view of tlu; Saii:ucnay ; and
my l^iiebec friend remarked, that he knew the people ol" Vaii-
kee-land had a (pieer way of doinn thiniis, hut lie was not
aetpiainted with their peeuliar mode of taking salmon. As
may be readily ima<rined, we retraced our stejjs bacdv to the
lofr shanty where we had stoj)ped, and, havinir carefully
stowed away our salmon, we laid a.-itU' our fishinu tackle,
and made arranirements for a little sport of another kind.

The hamlet of St. Marj^aret, where we spent tin; nij^ht,
contains some eight or ten log shantees, which are occupied
by about twenty families, composed of Canadians, Indians,
and half-breeds. They obtain their livinir by " driviiiir" loirs,
and are as happy as they are ignorant. Anxious to set> what
we could of society among this people, we sent forth a mani-
festo, callinir upon the citizens generally to attend a dance at
the cabin of a certain man whom we had enuancd to i>ive the
party, at our expense. Punctual to the aj)p<)iiiie(.l hour, the
assembly came toijether. Many of the men did not take the
trouble vvvn to wash their haiuls, or to put on a coat before
comina" to the party; but the women were neatly dressed
W'ith blue and scarh^t ptJtticoats, over which w(m-(> displayed
night-oowns of white cotton. 'J'lie fiddler was an Indian,
and the dancing hall (some twelve feet s(]uare), was liohted
with a wooden lamp, supplied with seal oil. 'V\w dance
was wilhont any particular method; and, when a L''<'ntleman
wished to tri]) the light fantastic toe he had only to station
himself on the lloor, when one of his iViiMids would select his
partmu", and lead her up lor his acceptance. 'i'h(> conse-
quence was, that, if a man wished to dance with any particu-
lar lady, he was obliged to make a previous arraiiiiemenl
with ills leading-tip friend. The fiddler not only furnished

144

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGUEXAY.

all lli(! iimsic, hut also perlormod a i>()0(lly portion of tlio dniic-
ini(, — liddliiiir and daiicintr at tlio same tinio. 'i'lic supper
was laid on tlic tahlc at l(!n ()'clo(d\, and consisted prinripnlly
of tiricd heaver tail, and cariboo meat, fried and !)oiled f-;il-
mon, (wliieli was rooked ont of doors, near tlm entrance to
the cahin,) rye bread, maple molasses, and tea.

'IMie j)arty broke up at tw(dve o'clock, wlien we retired to
the cahin, where we had secured lo(l(rin<rs, and it is an actual
fact that our sleepin<T room on that niirht was occupir'd, not
only by ourselves, but l)y two women, one man, and four
children, (divided into three beds,) all members of the same
family with whom we had succeeded in obtaininir accoinmo-
dations. On the followinjr mornimT we rose at an eaiiy hour,
and attain tried our luck at salmon fishinir, but oidy killed a
few trout, wlu^reupon we hoarded our gig, and started down
the romantic Sajjfuenav, tellintr stories and sinuinj'' son<rs.
Anotlier river, in this rejxion, which affords jmod salmon
fishing, is the Msquemain. It empties into the (St. Jiawrencc,
about twentv miles east of Saguenav. It is a cold, clear and
rapid stream, abounding in rapids ;uul deep pools. At its
mouth is located a saw-mill, but its water-works arc so
managed as not to interfere with the salmon. The lish of
this stream ascend to a great distance, and, though rather
small, are exceedingly abundant. The best fishing in the
river is at the foot of the water-fall, which forms a sheet of
foam, about one mile above the moutii. Mv Quebec friend
accompanied me to this place, and though we only threw
the fly about six hours, (three in the evening and three in the
morning.) yet v.-e killed thirteen salmon, without losing
a single line, and with the loss of onlv three Hies. Owing
to the bushy shores of the stream, we were comiieiled to
fish standing upon boulders, located in its centre; and when-
ever we hooked a fish, there was no alternative but to plunge
into the current, and trust to fortune. For some unaccount-

SALMON FISH1\(; AI)\ rXTlRKS.

llf)

;il)l(' rciison, (of course, it could not \\:\\v Immmi o/n' I'lull.) wo
los! nior(> iluui luilf of those \vc hooked. I>ul it was worili
a luodei'iite loriuiie to see the iii:ii.niilicent h'aps w hich the
Jish pertornied, not only when lliey toidv the ll\ . hut when
they altempted to escape. There was not one iudi\ idual that
did not LHve us a race of at least hah' a mih'. The larL;-esl
taken, (hirinir this e.\|)e(hlion, was kiHed hv \nv conipiuion,
and caused more ti'ouhh' than aU his oih.er pi'i/es. .No'onlv
did die leUow attempt to (dear himsell' hv slenimiiej ihe loam
of a rapid, and ruhhino- his nose aiiainst a ro(dv, to hreak the
hook, hut he also swept hinisell' complet(d\- round a laro-(.'
boulder, poked his head into a net, ami ran, w ith the speed
of liiihliinii! to the exlreme end ol' his line. It tu'ik mv
iVieud loriy minutes to laud this s:dmon, and I assuri' vou
ho was parliiadarly pleased when he I'ound dial hi- llsji
wnuLihcd one pound more than the 1 irijcst I had taken. 'l'h(.'
lact was our I'ods were almost pi-ecis(d\' alike, in IfUL'.'th and
streiiiilh, and as two counlries were represented in oui- per-
sons, die slril'e hetwcen us was (piiie despera'e. 1 will ac-
knowdediic that the ('anada Lii'iuli'inan took the laru'est
salmon, hiii the Slates aiiiiler took tliem in the i^reai! i num-
ber. A'olw idistandiuL!" all ihe line sj)or! that we enjo'.ed on
the i']-- [ueinain. I am c'.MUpidled !o stale thai it wa- more
than c(Min!>'i'halanced hy the sulieriuiis we eudiii'ed Iriun the
black liy and mus(pie|()e. The hiaek ll\' is ahoul hail' as larnc
as die e(mimon house lly, and, thouidi il hiu's vou (UiK'
in the day time, they are as ahiindan! m the air as ihe sand
upon die s. a shore, and M'munous to an uiicommoii deni'ce.
'.riie nni-'pu'toe of this reuion is an uncdinimmU' ijaiini. huiii-
b'iiiit il, and hungry creature, and his howl is peeiiliai-i\- horri-
ble. We had been almost (le\oured bv ihe bhud'. llies,
durini!- the arim'noon, and as soon as darkness came, we
S(>ciired a couple of beds in a Freii(diiiian's house, and, as
we tumbled in, coniiratidaled oiirsidves upon a little (;oiu-
10

116

A TOL'U TO THE RIVER SAGUENAY.

fortahlc repose, ll \v;i.s an exceediiii'lv sullrv iii'Hil, and thou'rh
we were both in a complete fever, IVoin the lly j)oisoii eircii-
laliiig" ill our veins, ihe heal exeoHed the fever, and our hodies
were literally in a ineltinir condition. We endeavored to
lind relief I)V Ivina upon the hare lloor, with no (-overiiiir hut
a sinjiki sheet, and this arrantre-nient niinht have answered,
had it not heen for the flood of nnis(iuetoes which poured into
the room, as one of us haj)[)ened toojien a window to ohtain
fresh air. J'^ver}- s])ot on our hodies which the llies had left
untouched, was immediately setthul upon by these devils in
miniature. They j)ierced the very sheets that covered us,
and su(dved away at our hlood witlnnit any mercy. Liiwil-
liuii' to depart this life without one etlort more to save it, wc
then dressed ou^'selves, and sauntered into the open air. AVe
made our way towards a pile of lund)er, near the san-mill,
and without a j»arlicle of coveriuiT, endeavored to obtain a
little sleej) ; hut the insect hounds soon lound us out. and wc
bolted for another place. Our course now lay towards the
rude hritJoe whi(di spans the; i']s(iueniain, Just above tin; mill.
Our intentions at tin; lime, thouLih not uttered aloud, I verily
believe were of a fearful character. On reaching" the hridtrc,
liowever, a refreshinti; breez(! sprunjx up, and we enjoyed a
brief respite from our savatre enemies. We now congratu-
lated each other upon our good forlnnc, and had just con-
cluded to be quite ha})py, when we discovered a number of
Indians on the river, spearing salmon by torch light, anil, as
it was after midnight, and the heathens were spearing on our
lishing ground, we mournfully concluiled that our morning's
s})orl was at an end. luit while in ihi; very midst of this
agreea!)le mood of mind, a lot of skylarking musipietoes dis-
covered our retreat, and we were a<rain besieired. \V c now
endeavored to lind relief on board the boat which had brought
us from the ISaguenay ; and here it was that wc spent the
two hist liours of that most miserable night. Though not

"'m

I XPLEASAXT PREDICAMKNT

1 n

lis

oxactly in :i riiliiiii- coiiilitioii tollirow the llv willi ;iiiv dc-irit;
ol" coiiilorl, we iiiiidc an cllttrt allrr salmon in tli*.' tn<»niin'/,
md snccccilcd in killing a poriion ol ilic iliiiMcfn alrcadv
mentioned. 'I'lial wceiijoscd the irood hrealvl'ast wliieii we
had prepared Idr onr especial lien''tlt, and thai we departed
lV()ni l']s()iiemain us soon as possihh-, are facts whicii I con-
sider sell-ev i(h'nt.

The month ol the Sauiienav, as I have helore remarked,
is completely hemmed in uiih i)arriers of solid roidv, and,
when the tide is tlowiiiir in I'rom one of these j)oints, llrsi
rate salmon tishiiiii' may occasionally Ik; enjoved. I liavu
mMpu'iitly had die [)leasnre of throwinii the l]\ on the point in
que.slion. and, on one occasion, was so carrieil away witii the
sj)ort, that 1 look no notice (d' the rising' tide. It was lu'ar the
sunset hour, and on prejjarinu' lor mv departnr<' home, I dis-
covered that. I was complelidy surrounded with water, and
dial my situation was monienllv liccomiiiL;- more daiiii"erous.
'I'he water was hitle'r cold, ;ind turhulent, and ihe chaiimd
wlii(di separaleil me iVom the main shore was upwards ol' a
.hundred yards wide, i was more tlian half a mile from the
nearest dwellinu", and could not see u single sad (Ui the Sa-
guenay, (»r the still hroader St. Lawrence, exceptiuL! a solitary

ship, which was ten leaLiues away. M

\ predicament, I as

sure von, was not to he envieil. [ could not entertain the
idea that I should lose my life; and, thoiiiih I felt inys(df to
be in daiioer, my sensations were suj)remely ridiculous.
Hilt somediinu', I was persuatiedi, must Ix; ilone, and that im-

nie

diate

ui'l so 1 commenceil tiirowmLt" oil mv (

doll

les

for u linal effort [a save my life. 1 lia.d strij)ped od" every-
tliiiii^ hut siiirl and pantaloons, and to a Ihxdv of crows, which
were cawina; ahove my head, I must have presented an inte-

restinir [)icUiri

It!

louirhloi' the famous swimmitiir adventures

of Jieandoraiid liord IJyron, and. also, of the inconveniences
of bein<r drowned, (as Charles liamb did of being hanged,;

118

A lOlR TO THE lilVF.R SAGIKNAV.

but jii.-l :is I was iihout ti) iirilxc the iiupoilnil pliiiiiic, an
Iiidi 111 ill liis caiioc caiiic ulidiiiii around a jiciLildioiiiii'' |)()iut,
and I was rcscm d, Uincllicr willioiu; salmon and .'^oiiir dozen
pounds of troiil.

l)iif i !ia\i' iioi liiiislicd iu\' st<)r\- \ci. ( )n l!i( iiiLiht follow-
iiii: llii^ iii<-id( lit I rclir; li to lied in ratluT a so'icf mood, lor
1 could not hani-ii the rrcol|rcti(Mi ol' ni\' narrow cx-apc Irom
it dii(d\in!i, if not Irom a walcrx' Lli'axc. 'I'lu' (•oiir-(()ucncc
was, that, in my dreams, 1 underwent h n timrs as much
nient)! sullerinL!' as 1 had aetualiv endured. I dreamed that,
in scaliiiL;' the roclss \\hi('h h'ad to the point alluih'd to. I lost
in\' rootinii:, and fell into the water. \\ hile in thi- (-(nKHlioii.
(Irinkiiiii' more sah water than 1 wanted, lloiimh'rinjj' alntut.
like a sit I; ]i(U'j)oise, uas]>in'^ tor breath, and utteriiiii" a iiu)sl
cloh'ful moan, I was suddenly awidvcned. ami lound m\ i.>(K)d
laiuliord at m\' si(h'. tapping me on the shouhh'i'. tor the pur-
pose of summoninir iiu> — iVom llie back ol' the ntLi'ht marc
1 liad been ridinL^

As I may not have another oj)portu!iily ol" alhidiiiLi' to
lliis portion of the Sauueiiay. and the rofJv\ poim ah'eady
albided to, I must iii\(' my reaiU'r another, and a remarkai)k'
im'i(h'nt eon nee ted with them. Some years aL''(>. the I ludson's
IJay ("ompaiiy had in its ein[)h)y, as (derk at 'i'a(b)nsae,
an inielliiM'iit and amial)k^ yoiinn' tnan, whose name was
MeCray. i'or some ui\.u-e<;Uiil;iLde reason, he became dc-
raiUi'Ml ; amk on oiu; occasion, a cohl and stormy winter
niahl. he took it into his head to cross the Saiiuenav upon the
lloatiiiii" ice, wlii(di was comiiiir down at the time. When iirst
discftvcred. he was halt" way across the .stream, and makiuL'"
JViuiitlul leaj)s ol" ten and tifteen I'eet rrt)ni one l)Io(d>. ol' ice
lo another. His rriends followed in (dose pursuit, with a
boat, as soon a.s possilde, but on reaidiino" the opposite shore,
lh(3 unha})py man was not to be i'ouiul. On the day rollow-
ing, however, certain people, who were hunting lor iuni in

FISH OF THF S\(;rF\AV.

1 11)

il)le

(le-

iitor

lirst

ving

ice

llli a

\Ol"C',

llow-
II in

llic wooils. (iisri)\ crfd liiiii. pi'i'dii'd ill llic ci'oifli ol ;i tree,
almost iVdZcil lo ilcalll. ami senseless ;is ;i ejod of llii' \.illey.
He w.is taki'u home, the circulinioii of !iis Mood reviored,
and he is MOW ;in iiimaie ol the (Jiielx'i- laiiiatie .\>\liitn.
The mind ul' this woiiIin' iiiaii \\;is ihoiiLiht lo he of a liiLlh
oialer: i.Ild it is eert.iili dial he pn.-sessed ;in e\ti'l',M\c I\!H)\V-
lediie' ol ii()t;ili\- ;ilid ocoIomn'. I'imiii l•e|||;ll•|^s lh;il ceiped
liiin suhseqiieiid V to die Nsomha-lul leat he jxaduniieii. ii is
sujiposed that, at the nine (d' stardnu' ;, cross the I'iv ef. he was
thinkiiiLi <d' a parli.-idar i)t)()k whudi he wi-hed UMiidaiii. and
had heeii i(dd eoiild lie |>tir(diased al (^iiehee. lowards u hi(di
place (uiiallainahle hv land;, he had set his face. It is w Dtihy
of record that pool' .Mc('rav is tiie oniv man lliat escr cii'--ed
the deej) and aiiiirx' S;!iinena\- on die ice, as it is ne\er sohdlv
iVozcn ; a,ml it is almost taa'tain that the leal he perlormcd
can ne\(a" he a^ain repeated.

IJiit lo retnrn to ni\' pi^-c,ilorial itanarks. .Next lo die sal-
mon, the ilnest sportiiiLi- lish of this reuion i-^ die troiil. ( )|'
du'se I lia\(' seen two sj) 'cie-. — die salimm and die coiiiinoti
trout. <)!' the t'oriner, I Ixdieve there is hut one varie'\ . hut
that is an e\<'e(,'diniily line lish for sport, or the lahie, ami is
found in the lower trihnlarics of ihe St. Lawrence, iVi-iii jixc
to lil'icen pounds. 'JMiey arc taken (diiellv in die sail water,
and possess a lla\()r whitdi the trout of our wavUaai lak's do
not. ( M' tlic ( oniinon tr<mt, I lia\-e seen at least six varji lies,
dilleriiiL;'. however, only in c(dor ; for some are almo-t en-
tirely while, olliers hrown, some hliie, some ureeii, some
hhudv. and others yellow. 'J'liese are taken e\(a'\\vli(M(' in
the Si. Lawrence, and in all its trihutaries. 'IMiose oi' the
Saiiueiiay arc; tin; laruesi, niost ahiindaiit, and of the rarest
quality. L'p(Ui tin? whole, I am imdined to set this laver
down as allordiiiii- the linest troiil-li>hinu' that [ have eva r ( n-
joyed, not wen excepting- that w hi(di I have exp(M'ienced at
tlu3 I'^alls oC St. .Marv, in Michigan. Almost ev(a'v Ijav or

150

A KM R TO THE RIVER SAfM ENAY

covc ill the SntrncMiav is crowdcMl with trcMit, mikI, ircncrally
sp(':lkiIlL^ tliP rocks upon wiiifli voii liavc lo stand aliord an
a!)iiii(!aMco of room to swiiiL'' :uid drop \hv lly. Jn soriic of
llic coves alluded to. I liave freciueiitlv taken a dozen two-
pound trout during' the siiioh; hour hefore sunset. Trout-
lishiuL; in this reiiifui jiossesses a (diarni which the aniiler sel-
dom <'\j)erieiu'es in the rivers and lakes of the I iiited Slates,
which consists in his uncertainty as to the character of his
prize hefore he has landed him, ior il may he a comnum or
snhnon trout, or a rejrular-huilt salmon, as these fish all swim
in the same water. It is rej)orted of a celehrated au'jler of
Quehec, that he once spent a wec^k on the Kscjuemain, and
caj^tured within that time, seventy salmon, and upwards of a
huiulred trout. 'J'his is a very large story, hut I have faith
cnouiih to helieve it true.

Ami now for a few remarks upon the lish of the lower St.
Lawrence ifenerally. Cod are taken to a very ureat extent,
ami constitute an imp;)i-!;uit article of coii!mer''e. Herring
and maidcerel are ahundant ; also th(> halihut and sardine.
Shad are also tid-Len.hut not in sullicient (piantities to export.
'j'hc !o!)ster. flounder ami oyster are a.lso found in this river,
and, with a lew unimportant cxce{)tions, these are the only
iish that llourish in this j)ortion of the great river, 'i'he sea
bass, tlu! striped hass, tin,' blue lish, and the l)la(d< lish, for
which 1 should suppose* these waters j)erfecdy adapletl, are
entirely uid^nown.

C 11 A P T i: li X V

Si'iil liiiiiliiiu' "11 the St. Lnwrciiri — 'J'ln- \\ liiti' [idi-pdisi'.

Ttiiloii'Htf, Jidi/.

Hkkouk breakfast tliis morninir, I li:^<l the ploasnro of tak-
ing ilflrcn <'oinnK)ii irout, and iliu rciiKiiiidcr of tlu; (lav I
devoted to seal huntinjr, 'I'liis animal is found in izreat ahiin-
danee in the St. Lawrenee, and i)y the Indians, and a few
white people, is extensively hnnteil. 'Inhere tire several vari-
eties founil in these waters, and the usual market pri<'(; for
the oil and skin is live dollars. 'I'hey vary in si/e from four
to eiirht feet, and are said to he (rood eatinij;. Many j)eo[)lo
make them a principal artieh; of food ; and while the Indians
use their skins for many purposes, they also linlit their eai)ins
with the oil. In sailinir the river, they meet you at every
turn, and when I first saw one, I thounht I was looking uj)on
a drowniniif man ; for they only raise their heads out of
water, and thus sustain themselves with tlunr feet, fins, pads,
dippers, or whatever you mav eall them. Thcv live upon

iish, and in many of their lial)its, closely resemhle tlu; o\Un'.
'J'heir paws have live elaws, joined to^'ether with a thick
skin ; they somewhat resemble the do«r, and have a bearded
snout like a cat, lai-<ro britrhl eyes, and loni^ sharp teeth.
They are a noisy animal, and when a number of them are
suiininiT themselves upon the sand, the screams they utter arc

1 51!

A T(»l K TO TIIK RI\ I:K SA(i« KNAV

<ln|( Till ill llic cxircinr — >(»mculi;il nscmlilili;; the ri\ of rliil-
(Ircii.

iMy i"ii>t sr:il ex pcdilioii w ;is [xiToiiiM'd in ('nm|tiiiy with
l\\i» iiimI'i s.-i(>ii:il liiiiilci'S. \\ r stnricd iVoiii fliorc willi :i
v:i\\l liiid a raiKM', and iiiadc iMir coiirx' lor a ccrlaiii sjxtt
ill llic St. Law rciK'c, wlicit' llic waters of tlic Siiniiciiav and
till' lldod lidf caiiic tdLit'tlicr, and cinscd ;i tcri'il)!^ comnuiliMii.
Tlir (Miioc led the way, ocriipicd |)\- (uic man, who was sup-
plii d w itii a liai"j)oon, and a loni' liii<' ; nv'IuIc tiif oilri' Imntcr
and niy.-cir canic np in the roar, lor tlic purpose of i-( :>cninu
tlic liaipooncr in case an accid.'iit slionid happen, and ;d>o lor
the pnrpose ol" shippini:" die |»hin(h'r. 'I'he seal seems to do-
iiiilit in rre(|uentinL>- the (lee|>e.:t water and more tnrl)ulent
whiil|'0(ds, and the ohin-t ot' nsiiui' a canoe is to <teal n|)()ii
him in the most siiecessj'nl inanieer. \\ C had noi lloated
ahoiil tiie v(\{\v more than twenty minntes, hel'ore a. larijo
hla'/k anima! made his appearance, ahonl ti'ii feel t'roin die
canoe; hut, just as he was on the point of ijivinir. the hunter
Uirew his harpoon, ami <iave him the line, to whicli w ;is at-
taidu'd a i)iio\-. 'J'he poor creature lli>undered ahoiit at a
l>reat rale, do\(' as far as he could towards the hotlom, and
then lea[)ed entirelv out ol" the water ; hut the cru(d spear
would not loosen its hold. Finally, after making' everv ellort
to escape, and tinuinu; th(> surroumlinii" water with a crimson
hue, lie aaspiHJ lor hreath a lew times, and sunk to the eiul
of the rope, (piite dead. \V'(! (heii pulled him to the sidi' of
the htiat. ami with a uall'-hook secured him therein, and the
liunt was renewed. In this manner did my companions

capture lU) less than three sea

Is hefore tlie hoiii' oi' noon

On one occasion, 1 noticed (juito a hirtro nuiidier of seals

sunniui'' themselves upon

I (pertain, sandy jxtint ; ami as I felt

an " iltdiinu' palm" to ohtain, with my own hands, the male-
rial for a winter cap, I spent the afternoon in the enjoyment

of a

dioot

hiir frolic, all alone

t)orroweu a n

lie of

one

si; A I, HI \TI\(.

I nn

lit

n|' my iVit'ii'ls. ami. Ii;t\ imr passed o\(r lo ilic saii(l\ |'M»iinit in
a canDc. | .-•(■cicirtl ii.\ M'if in ilic mitl-t ot' Mmic ruck-., aiid
awaited tht' iiMiiif. 1 had n'maimd (|iii(t hut a shi»n iiiiic,
\\h(n a hiiiic hlark seal ma(h' its appearance. scfamldiiiLl Up
the head), w hd'e he kept a sharp h>i)k-<ml lor an\lhini;' that
miulit do htm harm. I aihiiired the apparent intelhjcnce m
the creatiire. as he (h'aii'^f d his (dumsv and h'Llh'Ss hod\ aloiin
ihe sji'oiind. and ahnost i( uretled that he was diHomd to die,
i'rne to my riii cidims iri'nre, howcser. I linalK' (amchided
lo h'ave him nnmolesied m- the present, hopini^ that he woidd
soon he a(a-omp'anied h\- one o|' his leUow-seals. and tliat I
shiudd ha\'.' a (dianei of killini;' a pair. I \va< not di>ap-
p(Mnted. and von will iherelore please con>ider mc in lidl
Aiew of one ot the lini-l mark^ imaiiinahle, ami in the atti-
tude oi' liriiiL:. ('ra(dv \\v\\\ the ride, hnl my shot had indv
the ell'ect of lemporarilv roii>inii' ihe animals, and I jiroceeded
to reloail inv uiiii, w'eiidi ;an;i at the eanse of m\' nii>.-inii, and
I'eelinn' somewhat dissatislied with matters and thin^^s in li^'c-
ncral. Aii'aiii M'as it my privileiic to tire, and 1 saw a ^tiek
ll\' into the .)ir ahout tldrtv I'eel on liu' iel'l ot m\ iiame.

'J'l

le animals were, (d' course, not at all injtired, I •;! jiist

ciioiiiih tViuhleiied to inrn iheir t'aces tow ards the \\:\\y v. into

whudi tliev snoriiv phiiuretl, ,;ml taitii-ely disappeared.

turned to my iovliiinirs, lionestly told my story, and was
lauiihed at tor mv pa.ns and had liiidv. It so happeneij. how-
e\('r, thai lh(; owma' ol ihe L>nn imaLiined thai soinethinii
miLihl he the matter witii the thiiii!', and, on examination,

kc'd

I'onnd that one of tlie siLiht.-^ had heen aecideiitadly kno(
t'rom its oriiiinal j)o^iti'.i!, Avdrudi eircnmslance had heen llic
'' cause ol' mv ;.!iinii>ii f ' a.tid, ihouii'h it restored to me my
•rood name as a maiksman, it atlorchal me hnl little salislac-
lion.

Hilt, dial mv paper ahonts(>als may 1)0 wortli sealinir, I will
ffivo von lh(! hisiorv of an ineiduiit which illustrates the sa-

1 51

A TC.rR TO TTIF KIVKR SAOrKXAV.

irncitv ol'iiii Indinn in UilliiiL'" iiis l'';iiii('. A .Mik-ni;ik liimtcr.
with ! IS laiiiily. Ii:ul i-cmcIkmI the shore of tin' St. Lawrciico,
lnmL''i'V, iind short of ninmunitioii. On :i lartro sand-hank
which hiy hflorc him. at a time when the tide was h)\v, he
discovered an innnensc; nntnher of seals. Ife waited for the
ti(h' to How, ami a<jain to ehh. ami as soon as the sand ap-
peared ahove the water, he hastem'd to the dry |)oint in his
cnnoe. carryinir onlv a hatcdu't as a weaj)on. On this spot
lie inimediatelv dnt: :i Inde. into which he crept, and covered
liimsell' with a hlaidcel. lie then commenced ntteriniT a cry
in imitation of the seal, and in a short time had collected
ahont him a verv lar^e mimher of those animals, lie waited
patientiv lor the tide to retire so far that the animals wonid have
to travel at least a mile h\' land hefore reachiiiir th(> water; and,
when th(> wished for moment arrived, lie snddenlv fell npon
the allViuhled mullitude. ami with his tomahawk, succeeded in
slanixhierinL'' upwards of one hundred. To manv, this may
n])pear to he an improhahle storv, hut when it is rememl)ered
that this amphihious animal is an exceedino;Iv slow land tra-
veller, it will he readily helieved. The manner in which our
liunler imuiaiied to ^ave his o-ame, \\ as to tie them toiicther
with hark, and when the tide rose tow them to the main
shore.

Since I have hroujrln mv r(>ader upon the waters of the St.
liawrence, 1 will not permit him to no ashore until I have
ifiven him an account of another iidiahiiant ol' tin

ne deep w

hi(d

IS lound m very areat ahundance. not only m this river, hut
also in the Sagiieiiay. 1 allude to the white porjioise. The
shape of this creature is similar to that of the whale, thouuh of
a pure white color, and usuallv only ahoiit fifteen leei in
length. They are exceedingly fat, and yield an oil of the
best (lualilv, while the skin is ca|)ahle of heiiiii' turned iFito
durable lealluM'. They are extensively used as an articU' oi'
food; the fiiis and tail, when pickled, are considered a deli-

THE WIIITF, PORPOISi;,

1 ■• ^

icr

nil

('II

l)Ut

cacv; :iii(l their vnliic is about twciilv-livc dollars a-j)ii'(*(>.
'J'licy arc lar froiii hriiirr a shy fish; and, w Ihmi sailiiio ahoui
our vessel in lari^e nunihers, as is ol'ten the case.tliev present
a heaulilul :;nd unique appearance. For talvin^;' this lish, the
people of this rcirion have two methods. The lirst is to use
a boat with a whit(^ bottom, behind whiidi the tisherman
tows a small wooden porixtisc, whicdi is painttni a darlv slate
color, in imitation of the vouhl;' ot' the species. With these
lures the por[)oise is often brouiiht into the immediate \icinit\'
of the harpoon, which is invariahlv throw n w ilh fatal j)reci-
sion. In this manner an expert man will often tak(> three;
or four line ))ri/cs in a day. Another mode for takiuLT these
crea!ur(>s is hv fencinn" them in. It ai)pears that it is cus-
lomarv for this iish to wamler over the sand bars, ai hii^h
water, tor the i)urpose of feedinL^ Prolitinir bv this know-
ledir(\ the lishermen enidose one of th(> saudv rcM IV. with |)oles
set about threes feet aj)art, and sometimes eoverinij a s((uare
mile, 'i'hev leave an approi)riate opcMiinir for tln^ porpois(>s,
whi(di are sur(> to enter at hiuh water, a.nd, (twinil' ^<> their
timiditv, thev are kept confined bv the slender barricn" until
the tide ebbs, when tlic\ are dcstroveil in <ir(\it nund)ers with
very little tr(Mible. It is rcjiortcd that a party of lishermen,
some idnctv nulcs abo\(' tlu! SajiiKMitiv, once took oiu' hun-

dred

and l(*rt\' porpoises at one \\{\v ; and it is also asset

■ted

that in dixidiiiL'' tiie spoil the lishernuMi

had

a xcrv bitter

quarrel, since whi(di time, as the story i(oes, not a
porpoise has ever been taken on the shoal in quef^tioti,

iiniile

cii Ap'i'i: \i X vr

'j'ii.^ ]••

^^lll!ll;lll.\ liiili;iii~

Ltiiir;'. mr.

'r.ni,

lil'SlU ,

./,■//,/.

TiTr, vast rcnioii of coimlrv lyiiiu' on llir hoimIi shore ot'
Hit' (luir oi" St. liawrciu'c, and cMciKliiia' to the eastward ol'
the Saoaieiiav as far as Aewfoe.iKihiiKl, is i>('iierallv known
iinch'!' the name o!" Laljrador. ll is an exe(cdiiinlv v. ihl and
desohile reuion, and, exeeptir.ir an occasional fishing handet
or a missionary station hcdoniiinu" to the worthx' Moimn lans.

Its oidv in

haldt:

e Indians. ()[' tliese the nioi'e I'ainous

trihes are the lu'd Indians, (now ahnost extinct,) the l!iintini^
Indians, tii(> Mic-.Maks, and the J')s(jni!nanx. The hiiter na-
tion is hy far the most nunn'rous, and it is said that their
swav even ext(Mids to the coasts ol' Hudson's liav. 'J'hev
are, at the sain(! time, the wilth'st and most rnde iniiahiiants

ol this wilderness, and, ni apjiearaiice, as well as manners
and customs, (dosely resemhle the inhabitants o(" (Ji'ci nhmd.
During' on(> of my nautii-al expeditions down the Si. I^aw-
rcnce, I (dianced to he wind-hound lor a couple of da\ s at
the nu)uth ol" the nameU^ss river on the north shor

e. w lier(>

I foniul a small encampment ol" Msquimaux Indian-. 'JMie
priiH'ipal man of the parly was exceedinuly a'jed, and tlie
only oiu' who could convev his thoui>hts in any olli.r lan-
jrua*>(! than his own. He iiad minuled much with the I'rench

^'ii--tr;i(|(.rs of il

T"K Ks.,rnrA. Y IXdjaxs.

('••IS

-'■■•N.::::;:: ;■;::::' ■••:.'-''- -i^i..-.., .

"' ""-^ Uood old

IT)?

)| the

"'II' in]\irii,> SJ,,„, I ,

r ll„ „ ' ''■• ' !"■ --"I'M:,,,,.,.

'"■"'■'::::'■'■ ""-■' ..M-„i';;„i::

^'""■''' '"■ - ,„,,„,,„, ;,; " I'"'-!"- ." n.,.,„.,, .,

•■""J '"" '"■ ■■'">■ l-.'"-nV„|,„. ,',,,,„ ^^ ' '" "'" "■■"'"" ■■'■' !:'<-,.,
-'^'•''^^^^^^^^^^^^

•■'■^ ''''■"—.(■ ,i„. .,„■;'";■'■'■"■"'-'— „„ ,,„,.

i;i\c

'^'''0 ....... ,:,;■■' J^''^"'" '""".in iH.;Hl,.n ,|;n-kn,.s

?<"'"'f;illv of ||.-. ,.,,.. , . '"'■I'lll! r ill);,,

" ^ ' "1 ;i >lll)rr.ii,. I>..;..

''''■■':::t:'*;:;!::;:.:,;';!:;:r''"',; --'^^'.--

>•'"""- •■'"• ...Hi- ,„ „„'„,'■"""• ''>' ""■ "■ "■ Tl„.i,.

'"■"""■'■ "".'^n,.!,!,.. ,,„,

''■"■'■ ■'•I'-.- iu-„„.i,,„, ,„„,''" •"■■'■'■• -l-l, ,1,,., ,.„„„„
^-' — .• a n,.„i.. .,. '''■■''■^'",'- '""■""■"■ f"-""'^—

'■""" -^'■'ll„. „,„.|,| ,„,. ' .. /' '>■ ""■ '"-.-I m:„, „.|,„

'"■'''"^ "I-. l.nn,.;. ,„,' :'"-^ ""^""■>- -' <-f"l.ll..o.,.

■'■'■""' •■""' ''-i"^-. o„ a •..,„.,.,

i"'-l-"l «\' :. ll„H-,.,. „.),„,j

I ur()(,j),.(| „^

'■'''■taiii o

''<''iNi(»ii,

I'l" (JfJ(i ui' Il

ccaiiK? cli;iijn,.(j

1.^ ;ir

mU) a oirj

\')H

A ToiR TO rin. Ri\r,R sachknav.

with llowiiiLT li:iii", who hrcainc iiis j)layiii:itc. and aricrwards
his wile, and wa.s the molh.cr of all li\inii". 'I'hcv hc!ic\c in
a lH'a\cn and a hell, and (•()nsi(h'r thai the road to the lornicr
i.s rnoticd and i'o(d\y, and that to the latter, level, and coxered
wilh iirass. 'I'heir ideas ol" astrononu' are peculiar, lor tlie\'
consider the >\\n, nuton and stars as so many ol" their an-
cestor.", wlio have, lor a areal variety ol reasons, heeii iii'ied
to the ski(>s, and hecome celestial hodii's. In accounlinn' lor
the two iornier, they relaie that there was once a, super!)
festival i^iven hv the Escpiiinanx, in a Lilorions snow-paiac(;
of the norlh, where were assemhled all the youiiu' ni"n ;ind
maidens of the laiul. Amonn' them was a remarkaltly Lrave
youth, who was in love with an exceedinii'ly heautilul uiri.
She, however, did not rt'ciprocato this attachment, and en-
deavored, hv all the means in her power, to esca()e I'roni his
car(!sses. '1\» accomplish this eml, slu^ called upon the (Jreal,
Sj)irit to nivc her a pair of wini^s ; and, liaviuir received them,
she llew into tiie air. and became the moon. The youth also
endeavored lo obtain a pair ol' win^s, ami, after many im)nlhs,
finally succi-eded ; and, on ;iscendinu" to the sky, he became
the sun. TIk! moon, they say, has a dwellin<i-j)lac(! in the
west, and the sun another in the far east. They account for

iiieiii, caiiMiii^ ii neiiHiuuni.'s uoim;, wmie uiu uuiiuai \ven.; so

anj^ry that their eyes Hashed lire. J{ain, they say, comes
from a river in the skies, whiidi, I'roiu the jjireat nund)er ol
people who sonn^times bathe in it, overllows its baidvs, and
thus et)mes to the earth in showers.

When one of their friends has departed this life, they take
all his property and scatter it upon the ground, outside of his
cabin, to be purified by the air; but in the evening, they col-
lect it together again, and bury it by the side of his grave.

INDIAN' TRADITIONS.

ir)9

llO

5()

lol

'J'hcy think it wroiin- for ilic nicn lo mourn tor llicir tViciids,
and coiisidrr tlicinsclvcs dctilcd it' llicv lia[)[)('ii to toiiidi the
bodv ol" the dt'ccascd, and the individual who n>nad\' pcr-
I'ornis tho ollicc of nndt'rtakcr, is consiiha'cd unch-an tor many
(lavs after inltillinu his duly. The women do all ihc wailinir
and W(M'|iinu', and diirinn' their moiirnini: season, whudi cor-
responds with the fame (d' the deceased, they abstain t'roni
I'ood, wear iheir hair in ureal disorder, and retrain troin e\'erv
ablulioii. When a friendless man dies, his hodv is let'l upon
the hills to decay, as if lu; had been a beast. When their
children die, they bury the body of a dead doir in the same
U;ra\t', thai the child may have a uuide in his pa!liwa\' lo an
unknown land, to whi(di they suppose all (diildreii no.

I'olvuainy, as such, amonu' the ]']s([uimaiix, is practised
onlv to a limiteil extent; hut married men ami women arc
not ()ver-scru[)iilous in ineirloM' all'airs. (nmarried women,
however, observe the rules t)l" modesty with [)i'culiar care,
and the maiden who sufVcu's herself to be betrayed, is looked
upon with infamv. When a voiiiiu- man wishes to marrv,
he lirsl settles the matter with his inteiuled, and then, havini>'

isked and t)blained her father's permission, he sends two o

W(Mn(

n to brinu" the ladv to hi

s lodire, and lliev are consi-

dered one. 'I'lie Msipiimaux mother is loud of her (diildren,

uul never chastises iliem lor anv olhmcc

111 111 re n are

tau«iht to be dutiftd to their parents, and until tluiv marry
thcv always continue under the paternal roof.

The amusements of the l']s(piimaux do not dilfer, materi-

dlv, from those; of llu; Indian tribes <ren(M'allv.

!ie men are

foiul of daneinj^, playin<r ball, and a species of dice iiame,
while the women know of no recreation Inil that of danchi;^
and s-ingini^.

And thus endcHli my mite of information respectiuir one of
llie most extensive aboriginal nations of the far north.

(HA rj' i: \i X V 1 1

Till' I l;iliil;iii fl ( '.•M!;ii

Stnck ihiliiiii- iiiv i;i.-t ('Ii;ip1('r Irom the S;iiiucii;iy. I iinvi;
^'ompliMcd my pil'yiiiii.'ijo tliroimli Lnwci- Caiiaila : iml Ixdurc
icaviiiL;" ill*' i)i'o\ iiirc. 1 w ill !.ii\c you llic result of my oh-
scfvaiinii-: r(\si)('('tiiiu some oi" its [tcop!','. Tlirsc- arc (li\ iilcd
into liu'cc (.'las-cs — the (li'sccndaiits of \]\v Frciicli colonists,
commonly called " llalntans." the liritisli selllei,-. and t!\e
Indian trilx'S. 'J'lie " IJalMtuns." of wlioni I am now to
speak, are the mo:-t ninncrons. and. so })ei'uliar in their ap-
pearance ana! manners, as to a.ttrac! the particular attention oi'
iravidlers. The nnai are U:^ually tall and slender, o!' sinewy
build, ;ind with adark-e.rown complexion : the oiids are hlaek-
<'^•ed, and disp.os(>(i to he !)c;;i!td'ul, while the women ar(^ al-
ways dumpv. hut iiooil-looUiii:.:'. 'J'heir dress is .-imilar lo
that of the l''reu(di pea.sanlry: llie men wear the old-l'ashioiU'd
(•(fjiof, ow duir heads every \arieiy of lantaslic ca])> and hats,
and, on ;!ieir i'eet, a ne.)cc:',M;)i made of cow-hide : liic \\()men
Mcar jaidu'ts or mantelets, w lucli are made of hri:.;hi cohjrs,
and. Oil their heads, < ither .a c;ip or straw hat, made in the
oin^v-fa.shion. Oceasionaliv, ihev make an ellorl lo imitate
the Mnulish in their dress, and, at such times, invarialdy aj)-
j)ear ridiculous. As a class lliuy are devoled, p'rintdi)ally, lo

THE HAniTANS.

161

i\-. 1 liiiVi:
ml holurc
)!' my o^-
■r tli\i(l("-l

. ;ui(i tl\('

llii'ir ;ip-

llcntioii oi

»!' .-iiicwy

urc l)l;H'k-

h! Ill liar t!)
-f;i^hiniic(i
iul liats,
,!u' womon

ii coloi'r-.
laili' ill tlie

lit iinitiile
ivi.:il)ly ap-

cipally, to

ajTriciilluro ; \m[ as their opportunities for ohlainiiiLj instruc-
tion arc cxocMHlinnly liniitcd, their knowU'dire of the art of
hnshandrv is precisely what it was one huiuired years aiio.
They seem to bo entirely d(!stitute of enterprise, .ind tread
in the beaten steps of their fathers. Tliey who live in the
vicinity of Montreal and Quebec, frenerally supply those mar-
kets with vetretables; but those who reside in the more ob-
S(nirc parts, seem to be quite satisfied if th(?y can only ma-
nage to raise enoui^h olf their farms for the pnrpose of carry-
ing them through the yc^ir. They are partial to rye bread,
and never consider it in a cooking condition until it has been
soured by age; and their standard dish, which they make use
of on all occasions, is a plain pea soup. The cons(!quence is.
th(5 pea is extensively cultivated. Von seldom lind a farmer
who is so poor as not to be able to sell from live lo tifly
bushels of wheat, and this article he appropriates to tin; same
use that most people do their money. Their plough is dis-
tinguished for its rudeness, and their farming implements,
generally, would not be creditable even to a barbarous people.
If an imlividual happens to have a stony field, the idea does
not enter his head that he might build a fence with those very
stones, and the consequence is, that he piles them in one im-
mense heap, in the centre of the lield, and draws liis rails a
distance, perhaps, of two miles. But with all their ignorance
of agriculture, the inhabitants are sutliciently careful to make
their little farms yitdd them all the necessaries they require,
particularly their clothing and shoes, their candles, soap, and
sugar. There are but few professional mechanics among
them, and the dwelling of the peasant is almost invariably
the production of his own individual labor. Tiieir houses
are distinguished for pictorial beauty, always one story high,
and, generally, neatly white-washed. Their cattle are small,
and, owing to their neglect in feeding and protecting them,
are exceedingly poor. Their horses are nothing but ponies,
11

162

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGUENAY.

but distinguished for their toughness. The Habitans are
partial to the luxury of riding, and their common vehicle is
a rough two-wheeled cart, and, occasionally, a calash.

The establishment which I employed for travelling in the
settled parts of Canada, was a fair sj)ecimcn of the class.
The cost of the horse (four feet and a half liigh), was twenty
dollars, and the cart (made entirely of wood), was four dol-
lars. — My coachman was a Ilabitan, and, in drivinir over a
hilly road, on a certain day, I had a line opportunity for
studying the conflicting traits of character which distinguish
the race. Whenever he wanted his horse to go fast, he
pulled the reins with all his might, and continued to utter a
succession of horrible yells. lie invariably ran his animal
up the hill, and deliberately walked him down. When angry
at his unoffending beast, he showered upon his head a variety
of oaths, which might be translated as follows : infernal hog,
black toad, and hellish dog ; and yet when the animal was
about to drop to the ground from fatigue and heat, he would
caress him, and do everything in his power to restore the
animal, and ease his own conscience. I first employed this
man to bring me to this place, and said nothing about con-
tinuing my journey. On ascertaining, however, that I was
bound further down the St. Lawrence, he volunteered his
services, and I employed him, although he had informed his
wife that he would positively return on the night of the day
he left her. I retained him in my employ for two days, and
was particularly struck with the anxiety he manifested con-
cerning the disappointment of his wife. He alluded to the
impropriety of his conduct at least a dozen times, and uc ually
added, " But you give me plenty money (it was only six dol-
lars for taking me forty miles), and I loill buy something
pretty for my icife, which will make her very glad — I guess
she won't be sorry." I asked him what it was that he in-
tended to purchase, and his answer was, " some ribbon, a

i are
rle is

II the
class,
venty
r dol-
iver a
ty for
iguish
St, he
itter a
animal
angry
variety
(I hog,
al was
would
ire the
:d this
It con-
I was
cd his
led his
le day
s, and
1 con-
to the
|u'ually
ix dol-
lething
guess
Ihe in-
IboUt a

THE HABITANS.

1G3

pair of scissors, with some noodles, and a calico dross." Who
can deny that it is pleasant to study the sunshine of the
human heart " bv which we live?"

The Ilabitans profess the Roman Catholic relij^ion with
much zeal. Among them, I believe, may be found many
worthy Christians; but they manifest their religious devo-
tion in many peculiar ways. They are fond of social inter-
course, and spend a goodly portion of their time in visiting
each other. 'I'hey reluctanUy establish themselves beyond the
sound of a chapel bell, and I positively believe that they spend
more than hah' of their lime in performing mass and horse
racing. The Sabbath is their great holiday, and always de-
cidedly the noisiest day in the week. Their general deport-
ment, however, is inoflensive, and often highly praiseworthy.
They are seldom guilty of committing atrocious crimes, and
do not often engage in the personal conflicts wiiich are so
prevalent in the United States. They treat all men with
kindness, and in their language and manners, are remarkably
polite. The little girl, playing with lier doll in her father's
door, would think her conduct highly improper should she
omit to drop you a courtesy as you passed along; and even
the rude boy, when playing ball, or driving his team, inva-
riably takes olT his hat to salute the traveller.

The Ilabitans are particularly fond of the river St. Law-
rence, and their settlements extend from Montreal, about two
hundred miles along the river on the north shore, and j)erhaps
three hundred and fifty miles on the southern shore. Their
principal roads run parallel with the river; are about half a
mile apart, and, generally, completely lined with rural dwell-
ings.

'I'he political opinions of the Ilabitans are extremely liberal,
and not much in accordance with the spirit of ('anadian in-
stitutions. They hale England by nature, and the advice of
their priesthood, and scruple not to declare themselves ac-

'li

164

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGUENAY.

tually in love with what they call the American Government.
They complain that Englishmen treat them as it' they were
slaves, while the people of the United States always hail them
as brothers. They are an unlettered race, but believe that
their condition would be much hapj ier were they the subjects
of a President, instead of a Gliieen. That is a matter I con-
sider questionable.

CHAPTER XVIII.

The Grand IVirtago into New Brunswick — Lake Tiini.scouta — The Mada-

waska river.

On the Maihwaskn, July.

The traveller who woiiUl go from Quebec to Halifax by
the recently eslablished government route, will have to take
a steamer for one hundred and twenty miles down the great
river, and cross the Grand Portage road, which commences at
the river, Du Loup, and extends to lake Timiscouta, a distance
of thirty-six miles.

With the village of Du liOup 1 was well pleased. It con-
tains about twelve hundred inhabitants, and a more general
mixture of English, Scotch and French than is usually found
in the smaller towns of Canada. The place contains an
Episcopal church, which must be looked upon as a curiosity
in this Roman Catholic country, for it is the only one, I
believe, found eastward of Quebec. The situation of the vil-
lage is romantic to an uncommon degree. It commands an
extensive prospect of the St. Lawrence, which is here up-
wards of twenty miles wide, and bounded, on the opposite
side, by a multitude of rugged mountains. The river is stud-
ded with islands; and ship'< are constantly passing hither
and thitherover the broad expanse; and when, from thcirgreat
distance, all these objects are constantly enveloped in a gauze-

166

A TOl'R TO THE RIVER SACJIENAV

like atinosphrro, there is a magic innucnco in the scenery. The
princi|):il attraction is a water-fall, about a mile in the rear

.f tl

.f th(

(I and

01 me village. At this })oint tlie waters ot the rapid and
beautiful I)u Loup dance joyously over a rocky bed, until
they reach a jiicturesque precipice of j)erhaps eighty or a hun-
dred feet, over which they dash in a sheet of foam, and, after
forming an extensive and shadowy pool, glide onward,
through a pleasant meadow, until they mingle with the waters
of the St. Lawrence. Ihit, as I intend to take you over
tlie Grand Portage, it is time that we should be off. 'J'lie first
ten miles of this road are dotted with the box-look iuir houses
of the Canadian peasantry ; but the rest of the route leads you
up mountains and down valleys as wild and desolate as when
first created. The principal trees of the forest are pine,
spruce and hemlock, and the foundation of the country seems
to be granite. This region is watered by many sparkling
streams, which contain trout in great abundance. 'J'he only
curiosity on tlie road is of a geological character, and struck
me as something remarkable. Crossing the road, and run-
ning in a northerly direction, and extending to the width of
about two miles, is a singular bed of granite boulders. The
rocks are of every size and form, and while, from a portion
of them, rises a scanty vegetation, other portions are destitute
of even the common moss. In looking upon this region, the
idea struck me that I was passing through the bed of what once
was a mightv river, but whose fountains have become forever
dry. This is only one, however, of the unnumbered wonders
of the world which are constantly appearing to puzzle the
phdosophy of man. In passing over the Grand Portage, the
traveller has to resort to a conveyance which j)resents a
striking contrast with the usual national works of her lady-
ship, the Queen. It is the same establishment which con-
veys the Royal Mail from Quebec to Halifax, and consists
of a common Canadian cart, a miserable Canadian pony,

LAKE TIMISCOITA.

107

The
roar
and
until
iliun-
after

ward,
waters

over

c first

lOUSCS

Is you

when

pine,
r?ecins
irklini^

e only
struck,
d run-
lidlh of
The
ortion
siitute
)n, the
it once
orever
nders
le the
lire, the
Vnts a
hidy-
li con-
Ion sis ts
pony,

•■.!

and a vet more inis< rahlo Canadian driver. Such is the wav
lliey order lliings in Ca-iada, wliich, I fancy, is not exactly
the way Uii.y do in ^' ranee. The (»rand Portage road itself
is all that one could ih sire, and as there is a i^ood deal of
summer and winter travelling upon it, it is surprisjui; that
the (Jovcrnment caniiot alford a more; comforlahlc convryancc.
Hut this recently " Disputeil 'J'erritory," owin<r to nohody's
fault hut the actual settlers, seems to he destitute of every-
thiuir desirahle, and I know not hut we ouL^it to rejoice; that
Lord Asjihurton concluded the late treaty in the manner he
did.

'J'he eastern termination of the (J rand Portaire road is at
Lake 'J'imiscouta, where is located a pleasant hamlet of Cana-
dians, and a j)ieketed fort, which is now ahaniloned. The
views from this s])'U are unic^ue and exceedinirly heautiful,
particularly a wcsti-rn vi(!w of the lake, when ulowiiii^ he-
neath the ravs of tlie setliuir ^nn. Tiie Indian word Timis-
couta signilies the irlnding irafcr, and accurately desi-rihes
the lake, which has a serpentine course, is twenty-four miles
long, and iVou^ two to three wide. Excepting the cluster of
houses already mentioned, there is not a single cahin on the
whole lake, and tlu surrounding mountains, which are per-
ha})S a thousand fee! high, are the home of solitude and
silence. Tlie onlv vessi^ls that navijrate the Lake are Indian
canoes, paddled i)y (Jan; dians. Not only does the isolated
settlers depend upon them for the transportation of provisions,
but even the English nohleman, when travelling in this re-
gion, linds it necessary to sit like a tailor in tiieir straw-
covered bottoms.

The only oudet to Lake Timiscouta is tlie Madawaska
River, which ir but a contraction of the same water, !?«it re-
duced to the width of a stone's throw, and leading to the St.
John's, a uistance of some forty miles. The meaning of
Madawaska, as I am informed, is never frozen, and the river

168

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGUENAY.

obtained this name from the fact that certain portions, on ac-
count of the current, are never ice-bound. Tlie scenerv of
the river is precisely simihir to that of its parent lake, only
that it is a little cultivated. The waters of both are clear, but
not very deep or cold. They abound in fish, of wliich the
common troui, the perch, and pickerel (not pike), are the
more valuable varieties.

The manner in which I sailed throu<:h 'J'iniiscouta and
Madawaska, was exceedinaly pleasant, if not peculiar and
ridiculous. My canoe was manned by a couple of barba-
rous Canadians, and while they occupied the extreme stern
and bow, I was allowed the " larjrest lib(;rty" in the body
thereof. It was an exceedin^-|y hot day when I passed
through, and liaving stripped myself of nearly all my cloth-
ing", I rolled aI)out at my own sweet will, not oidy for the
purpose of keeping cool, but that I might do a good business
in the way of killing lime. At one moment I was dipping
my feet and hands in the water, iiumming a lightsome tune
of yore, and anon sketching the portrait of a mountain or a
group of trees. Now I lay Hat upon my back, and while I
watched the fantastic movements of tlie clouds, as they crossed
the blue of heaven, I attended to the comforts of the inner
man by sucking maple-sugar. Now I called upon the boat-
men to sing me a song, and, while they complied with my
request, I fixed myself in the poetical attitude ol" a Turk,
and smoked a cigar. At one time, we halted at a mountain
spring, to obtain a refreshing drink, and at another, the men
pulled up to some rocky point, that I might have the plea-
sure of throwing the fly. Thus vagabondizing, " pleasaiUly
the days of Thalaba went by."

My voyage down the Madawaska was not without a cha-
racteristic incident. There was quite a fleet of canoes de-
scending at the same time, some of them laden with women
and oabies, and some with furs, tin-ketUes, and the knan-

]

1
■J

WILD ANIMALS.

160

sacks of liomc-hound lumbermen. Two of the canoes were
managed by a Canadian and a Scotchman, wlio seemed to
cherish a deeply-rooted passion for racing. They paddled a
mimber of heats, and as they were alternately beaten, they
both, finally, became angry, and began to bet quite extrava-
gantly. The conclusion of the whole matter was that they
went ashore on a bushy point among the mountains, and
settled their difiiculty by a " private fight." TJioy fought,
"like brave men, long and well," and by the time one had a
tooth knocked out of his head, and the other hr.d nearly lost
an eye, they separated, and qniedy resumed tlieir way.
These were the only wild animals that 1 saw in the Madii-
waska wilderness.

CHAPTER XIX.

The Acadians.

Mouth of the jMnthvrnskn^ July.

At iho jiiiictioii of the river Madawaska and St. John, and
extcndinir for some miles down the hitter, is a settlement of
ahoul three hundred Acadians. How these people came by
the name they hear, I do not exactly understand, hut of their
history, I rememhcr the followinjr particulars. In the year
175.^, durin<r the existence of the colonial difhculties between
England and France, there existed, in a remote section of
Nova Scotia, about fifteen thousand Acadians. Aristocratic
French blood flowed in their veins, and they were a peaceful
and industrious race of husbandmen. Even after the govern-
ment of England had become established in Canada, thev
cherished a secret attachment for the laws of their native
country. Hut this was only a feeling, and they continued in
the peaceful cultivation of their lands. In process of time,
however, three titled Englishmen, named Lawrence, Bos-
cawan and Moysten, held a council and formed the hard-
hearted determination of driving this people from their homes,
and scattering them to the four (juarters of the globe. Play-
ing the part of friends, this brotherhood of conquerors and
heroes sent word to the Acadians that they must all meet at
a certain place, on business which deeply concerned their

THE ACADIANS.

171

welfare. Not dreamin}'' of llicir iinpemling fate, the poor
Acad

lans nic

tat t!

)e a

uin

ted nl

place, anu were tliere iiitorme

til

ifoi

of the fact that their houses and lands were forfeited, and
that they must leave the country to become wanderers in'
strange and distant lands. They sued for mercy, but the
iron yoke of a Christian ration was laid more heavily upon
their necks, in answer to that prayer, and they were driven
from home and country, and as they sailed from shore, or
entered the wilderness, they saw in the distance, ascending to
Heaven, the smoke of all they had loved and lost. 'IMiose
who survived, found an asylum in the United States, and in
the more remote portions of the British empire, and when,
after the war, they were invited to return to their early homes,
only thirteen hundr(^d were known to be in existence. It is
a remnant of this very people who, with their descendants,
are now the owners of the Madawaska settlement, and it is
in an Acadian dwelling that I am now penning this chapter.
But owing to their many misfortunes, (I would speak in
charity,) the Acadians have degenerated into a more ignorant
and miserable people than are the Canadian French, whom
they closely resemble in their appearance and customs.
They believe the people of Canatla to be a nation of knaves,
and the people of Canada know them to be a half savage
community. Worshipping a miserable priesthood, is their
al business : drinkinir and cheatin"- their neiL'-hI)()rs. their

►niK

principal amusement. They live by tilling the soil, and are
content if they can barely make the provision of one year
take them to the entrance of another. They are, at the same

ht tl

time, passionate lovers ot money, and have hroiig
science of fleecing strangers to perfection. Some of them
by a life of meanness have succeeded in accumulating a re-
spectable property; but all the money they ol)tain is sys-
tematically hoarded. It is reported of the principal man of
this place that he has in his house, at the present moment,

172

A TOFR TO THE RIVER SAGUENAY.

the sum of ten thousand dollars, in silver and <^ol(l, and yet
this man's children are as ignorant of the alphabet as the
cattle upon the hills. But with all their ignorance, the Aca-
dians arc a liappy people, though it is the happiness of a mere
animal nature.

The scenery of this place, which does not seem to possess
a name, is quite agreeable, but its attractive features are of an
architectural character. The first is a block house, and the
second a Catholic church. Tiie block house occu{)ies the
summit of a commanding and rocky knoll, and was built at
a cost of near five thousand dollars, for the purpose of de-
fending this portion of New Urunswick, during the existence
of the late boundary difficulty. The edifice is built of stone
and timber, and may be described as a square box, placed
upon another and large one in a triangular fashion; the width
may be thirty feet, and the height one hundred and fifty. It
is well supplied with port holes, entered by a wooden flight
of stairs, and covered with a tin roof. It contains two stores,
besides r well-filled magazine. It is abundantly supplied
with guns and cannon, and almost every variety of shot, shells
and balls. It was once occupied by three military companies,
about all that it would nc

(

ilily

being who now has anything to do with it, is a worthy man,
who olTiciates as keeper. The panorama which this fortress
overlooks, is exceedingly picturesque, embracing both the
valley of the Madawaska and that of St. John, which fade
away amid a multitude of wild and uncultivated mountains.
When I first looked upon this block house, it struck me as
being a most ridiculous affair, but on further examination, I
became convinced that it could not be taken without the
shedding of much blood.

Of the church to which I alluded, I have only to remark
that it is a very small, and, apparently, a venerable structure,
built of wood, painted yellow, with a red steeple. It is

THE ACADIANS.

173

I, and yet
et as the
, the Aea-
of a mere

o possess
are of an
), and the
■iij)ies the
IS built at
so of de-
existence
t of stone
X, placed
the width
fifty. It
len flight
o stores,
supplied
ot, shells
m panics,
\' liuman
ly man,
fortress
)()th the
ic'h fade
untains.
V me as
lation, I
out the

pleasantly located, amid a cluster of rude cabins, on the mar-
gin of the St. John, and in the immediate vicinity of a race
course. It was my fate to spend a Sabl)alh in this Mada-
waska settlement. As a matter of course, I attended church.
The congregation was large, and composed entirely of Aca-
dians ; decked out in the most ridiculous gew-gawish dresses
imaginable. I noticed nothing extraordinary on the occa-
sion, only that at the threshold of the church, was a kind of
stand, where a woman was selling sausages and small beer.
The services were read in Latin, and a sermon preached in
French, which contained nothing but the most common-
place advice, and that all of a secular character. At the con-
clusion of the service, the male portion of the congregation
gradually collected together on the neighboring green, and
the afternoon was devoted to horse racing, the swiftest horse
belonging to the loudest talker, and heaviest stake planter,
and that man was — a disciple of the Pope, and the identical
priest whom I had heard preach in the morning. It will be
hard for you to believe this, but I have written the truth, as
well as my last line about the Acadian settlement on the
Madawaska.

remark
ructure,
It is

CHAPTER XX.

Sail down the Madawaska — The Falls of the St. John.

Fails of the St. John, July.

In coming to this place, from the North, the traveller finds
it necessary to descend the river St. John in a canoe. The
distance from Madawaska is thirty-six miles, and the day
that I passed down was delightful in the extreme. My canoe
was only about fifteen feet long, but my voyageur was an
expert and faithful man, and wc performed the trip without
the slightest accident.

The valley of this portion of the river is mountainous, and
its immediate banks vary from fifteen to thirty feet in height.
The water is very clear and rapid, but of a brownish color,
and quite warm, varying in depth from three to tliirty feet,
and the width is about a quarter of a mile. That portion of
the stream (say some seventy miles of its source), which
belongs exclusively to the United States, runs through a fer-
tile and beautiful country, abounds in water-falls and rapids,
and is yet a wilderness. That portion which divides tiie
United States from New Brunswick is somewhat cultivated,
but principally l)y a French population. Owinu to the fact
that tbe farms all face the river, and are very narrow, (but
extend back to the distance of two or three miles,) the houses
have all been erected immediately on the river, so that, to

THE MADAWASKA.

175

the casual observer, the country niisrht appear to be thickly
inhabited, which is far IVom being the case. The principal
business done on the river is the driving of loffs and timber

for the market of St. John ; and excepting the worthy and
hard-working lumbermen who toil in the forests, the people
are devoted to the tilling of their land, and are precisely
similar to the Acadians in their manners and customs, and
probably from the same stock. There is a miniature steam-
boat on the river, but as the unnumbered canoes of the inha-
bitants are engaged in a kind of opposition line, the fiery
little craft would seem to have a hard time. In navigating
the river the voyageurs paddle down stream, but use a pole in
ascending; and two smart men, gracefully swinging their
poles, and sending their little vessel rapidly against the cur-
rent, taken in connection with the pleasant scenery of the
river, present an agreeable and novel sight.

We started from Madawaska at four o'clock in the morn-
ing, and having travelled some twenty miles, we thought we
would stop at the first nice-looking tavern on the shore, (for
about every other dwelling is well supplied with liquor, and,
consequently, considered a tavern,) for the purpose of obtain-
ing a breakfast. Carefully did we haul up our canoe, and
having knocked at the cabin door, were warmly welcomed
by a savage-looking man, whose face was completely be-
smeared with dirt, and also by a dirty-looking woman, a cou-
ple of dirty-legged girls, and a young boy. The only furni-
ture in the room was a bed, and a small cupboard, while the
fire-place was without a particle of fire. In one corner of
the room was a kind of bar, where the boy was in attend-
ance, and seemed to be the spokesman of the dwelling. We
asked him if we could have some breakfast, and he promptly
replied that we could.

" What can you give us ?" was my next question.

176

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGUENAY.

Anything you please," replied the boy, in broken En-

glish

We'll take some ham and effirs, then

•5^5"

We haven't any, only some eggs."
We'll lake some bread and milk."
We haven't any bread, but plenty of mill

, »»

" Haven't you any kind of meat?"

" jVo, plenty of Rum. JVliaCU you /mye.^"

I could stand this no longer, and having expressed my di^

id his fa-

pleasure at the ignorance of the boy, and c
ther for pretending to keep a tavern, I gave the former a six-
pence, and took half a dozen eggs, with which we returned
to our canoe. While I was lixing my seat in tlie boat, and
commenting upon wilderness hospitality, my companion
amused himself by swallowing four of the purchased eggs
in a leather cup of brandy. In two hours after this little ad-
venture, our litde canoe was moored above tiie Falls of the St.
John, and we were enjoying a first-rate breakfast, prepared
by the lady of a Mr. Russell, v/ho keeps a comfortable house
of entertainment in this place.

After I had finished my cigar, and enjoyed a resting spell,
I pocketed my sketch-book, and spent the entire day exa-
mining the scenery of the Falls. After making a broad and
beautiful sweep, the river St. John here makes a sudden turn,
and, becoming contracted to the width of about fifty yards,
the waters make a plunge of perhaps forty feet, which is
mos'iy in a solid mass, though rather disposed to form the
third of a circle from shore to shore. Below this pitch, and
expending for about two miles, is a continued succession of
falhi, which make the entire descent upwards of eighty feet.
The water rushes through what might be termed a winding
chasm, whose walls are perhaps one hundred and fifty or
two hundred feet high, and perpendicular. Generally speak-
ing, the entire distance from the first fall to the last, presents

ell,
x-d-
tind
rn,
(Is,
is
he
ind
of
t.

Ik-

THE FALLS OF ST. JOHN'.

1 *■*•

1 4 t

a perfect sjieet of foam, thoiii^h nrouiul every jiittiiiLr point i^;
a black, and, aj)pareiitly, bottondess pool, wliicji, \vh(Mi [
peered into them, were (piite alive with s:dmon, l(Mj)in.«i- into tb(^
air, or swimnunir on the maririii of the foam. On llir wester!!
side of the falls, to a jxreat ext(Mit, the original lorest has lieen
sudcred to remain, and a walk throuirh their sliadowv reces-
ses is an uncommon treat; and on this side, also, is the ruiti
of an old saw-mill, whicdi, for a wonder, actually adds to the
picturesque beauty of the spot. On die eastern side of the
falls is a commandini^ hill, which has been stripped of its
forest, and now presents a stump field, of three hundred acres.
It is a desolate spot, but in strict keepin<r with the enterprise
of die province. The expense of clearinir, or, r;ither, half
clearing-, the hill in question, was six thousand dollars, and it
was the oriijinal intention of the mother irovernment to erect
thereon an extensive fortress ; but owiuji^ to tlie biriii of a
sensible reflection, the idea was abandoned. 'J'lie barracks
of the place, as they now exist, consist of two io^- houses,
which are occupied by a dozen sprigs of the 13ritish Army.
And thus endeth my account of the most picturesque spot
in New Ikunswick, which, I doubt not, may hereafter be-
come a fashionable place of summer resort.

C 11 A P T E K A X 1

Tlic Jlcrmit of Ai(K».>tu()k.

a f?

iMoiifli of the .■himslnok, July.

1 WAS on my way down ihn river Si. John, in New Hruns-
wic-k, and liavinir heard that the iXroo.stook (one ofits prineipal
tribntarics), was famous lor its salmon and a picturesque
water-iall, 1 Jiad taken up my quarters at a tavern near the
month ol' that stream, with a view of throwino- the lly for a
icw days, and addinjr to my stoek of sketehes. 1 arrived at
tliis place in the forenoon, and after depositing my luiroao-e
ill an upper room, and orderinir a (Hnner, 1 proceeded to ar-
range my tackh) and pencils for an afternoon expedition.
This preparatory business I performed in the sittinir-room of
the tavirn, where there happened to be seated at the time,
and reading the New York Albion, an oddly-dressed, but
gentlemanly-looking man. In form, he was tall and slender,
appeared to be about lifiy years of age, and there was such
an air of relinemenl in his appearance and manners that he
attracted my particular attention. 1 said nothing, however,
and quietly continued my snelling operations, until summoned
to dinner. While af the table, I sent for the landlord to in-
quire about the stranger whom I had noticed, and Jiis reply
was as follows:— "His name is nobcrt Eggcr; he is a
strange but good man, and lives the life of a recluse ; his

iriiiis-
icipal
csque
ir the
lor a
t'll at
tronofe
o ar-
ition.
)in of
linie,
, bill
luler.
such
at lio
'ner,
loncd
o in-
rcply
is a
; his

THE IIKTOIIT OF AROOSTOOK.

179

house is abovo the fall, on \\\r Aroostook, ami about fom
miles from here. We. has Ixm^u in this part ot" the «'ountry
for many years, but I seliloin see him at mv house, exeept-
injr when he wants to read the news, put a letter in the olliec,
or purchase a basr of llour."

With this intciliirence I was (juite delighted, for I fancied
that I hail discovered a vhararlvr, which eventuallv proved
to be the case. On returniuu; to {\n\ room where the siraMi^er
was seated, I introduced myself by olferin<: him a ciLjar; and
while lixin«r my rod, asked him a few (luestions about tlu;
surrountliut,^ country. His replies proved him to bi" an in-
lelli<,rent man, and as he iiappened to express himself a lover
of tin; " jrontle art," 1 olfered him the use of some fishin«r
tackle, and invited him to accompanv me. lie refused mv
olVer, but accepted my invitation, and we started lor the
Aroostook, lie olliciated as my ^-uide ; and when we ap-
proached the river, which was from two to live feet deep,
about one hundred yards wide, very rapid, and tihed with

brid

e piers in ruin, wo jumped into a Frenchman's cano(

and were lauded on the northern shore. Ileri? we came into

I Twad which passed di

rcc

tly

donir the bank ol the river; this

we followed for one mile, until we arrived at a (lourin(r-mill,
located at the mouth of a lartre anil very beautiful brook,

where the road made a suililen turn towai

ld(

rds tl

le north.

recti

V o

osite the mill, on the Aroostook side, was a narrow

and rapid rift, where, mv Iriend told me, 1 was sure to hook
a salmon. 1 did not like the appearance of the j)lace, but
look his advice and waded in. I tried my luck for some
thirty minutes, but could not tempt a sinjrle fish. This, my
friend did not understand ; In* said there were salmon there,
and thought that the I'ault was mine. 1 knew what he wanteil,
and therefore handed him my rod, that he miuht try his for-
tune. He lished for nearly half an hour, and then broke the
fly-lip of my rod. As I was cherishing an earnest desire lo

180

A TOUR TO THE RIVF.R SAOT KNAY.

t:ikr :it least one saliindi, itndrr the f(tlK wliioli I tljouirlit llie
only likely phico to siuH'ccd, and towards wliicli I had set
my lace, this little accident made me exccedinirly nervous.
My iViend attempted to console? nu; i)y remarkin<r, that, as it
was <r(<ttinir to he toward eveninir, wc; had hetter return to the
tavern, and take ;i fresh start in the morninir. IJut this pro-
position did not suit mc; at all, and 1 promptly said so. " Just
as you please," replied my companion, and so we re|)aired
the rod, and continued up the river. Very rapid, with many
and decj) pools, was this j)ortion ol" the stream ; and our
course alonjr the shore, ov(!r loj^s and fallen trees, through
tanjrled undi'rhrush, and around rocky points — was attended
with every imairinahle dilliculty, and so continued for at least
two miles. On comin<r in siirht of the fall, however, I was
more; than ami)ly repaid for all my troui)le, hy the prosj)ect
which there pres(!nted itself. It was, perhaps, one hour he-
fore sunset, and there was a deliiihtful atmosphere restini^
upon the landscape. Directly hefore in(>, in the extreme dis-
tance, and immediately undf^r the crimson sun, was a narrow
rocky i^orire, through which foamed the waters of the Aroos-
took, over a precipice of some thirty feet; and just hclow
the fall, rose a perpendicular rock to the height of nearly a
hundred feet, dividing the stream into two channels. The
entire middle distance of the prospect was composed of a
broad and almost circular basin of very deep and dark water,
skirted mosdy with a rocky shore, while directly across the
surface of this pool, winding down the stream, was a line of
foam, distinguishing the main channel; while tlie foreground
of this picture consisted of a gravelly beach, two bark wig-
wams, several canoes, and some half dozen Indians, who
were enjoying their evening meal hy the side of an expiring
fire.

We held a brief conversation with the Indians, and found
out that they had visited the basin for the purpose of spear-

TIIK IIFUMIT OF AROOSTOOK

1«I

c dis-
rrow
roos-
clow
irly a
Tlie
of a
ivater,
s the
ine of
round
wig-
who

)iring

found
pear-

in<I Falinoii hy torcliliLdit ; :ui(l uhilt- my compMiiion s;it down
in lIuMr midst to rest himself, 1 ium|K(l inlo one of the ciinoes,
:nid ]):i(l(llt'(! to ilic fool of ilic f:ill, to try one of my fancy
llios. 1 jisju'd for ul)ont thirty mimitcs — caiiuht one small
sahnon — lost two very larL^c ones, and nUinicfl to the Indian
ramp, whore I had j)r('vioiisIy concdndcd lo spend the iiiLdit,
])ro\ "(led mv (.niide did not insist \ij)on relnrninu" to the tavern
hy moonliLdit. li so happened, however, that my intrre^lin^
plan was vetoed hy my eomiianioii, who told me that his
dwellinii was onlv a mile oil", and that 1 mnst 120 and spend
the niii;ht witii liim. I willinLrK' assented to this proposition,
and havinL"" j)ieked up the salmon, we enuane'd tlie Indians to
ferry us across the hasin, and j)roceeded on our wav. Our
path was somewhat narrow, crooked, and intricale, :!nd as I
listened to the roariuL'' of the water-fall, and ihouLdit of the
mystery which huuu' over my companion, I could not hut
wonder what 1 was ahout, and to what stran<>e plac- [ was

iromir.

In due time, liowever, we emeriicd from the woods, and
came out upon the side of a licntle hdl, which slojx'd to the
margin of the Ar»)ostook, and was sullicientlv open to com-
mand an extensive view of the river. Here my fri(!nd told
nie to tarrv a lew monuMits, for he had a canoe hidden amonfr
some willows, and wished to hunt it uj), that we miL^it re-
eross the river oiu'e more. I heard his words, hut ncLdected
to assist him, for my whole attention was riveted hv the
scene ujion which I was jraziui^. 'I'ln^ soher livery of t\vi-
light had settled upon the world, and the tlowinir of the river
was so peaceful, that 1 could distinctly iiear the hum of un-
nund)ered insects as they sported in the air. On the oppo-
site sliore WiiS a lofty forest-covered hill, and at the foot of it
a small clearings in the centre of whi(di stood a rude loj^
cabin — the dwellinir-place of my friend. On my hd't, the
river presented the appearance of a lake : and apparently in

182

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAfaENAV.

the (TiUro of it were two of the most exciuisitclv loli.-iircd
islands iiiinirinahlf. 'J')h> valley seemed completely hemmed
in with mountains, and these, (o<rether with a Ldouinf^ skv.
were all distinctly mirrored in the sleej)in(T' waters. Charm-
in^r be\ond compare was this eveniiiir landscape, and the holv
time " was quiet as a nun, hrealhli'ss with adoration." Hut
now my companion summoned me to a scat in the canoe,
and we passed over the stream in safety ; he haided up his
shalloj), laid aside his paddle, and, slappinir me on the slund-
der, led tin; way to his cal)in, repeatinir, in a loud, ck'ar voic(\
the follow inir words :

" Aioiic I live. Iictwccii /iiiir Iiill.-:

At liiiics. wild ;)iiiiii;n'~ Jippc;,;-,
l>nt iiiiMi air Sfldum SITU.'

On enteriiiiT the hut, which was now quite dark, as it oidv
contained one window, my companion turned aljruplly round,
and after makiuir a frolicsome reu'ark about my heinii" in his
power, he exclaimed — " That j)oetry I repeated to you just
now was a home-sj)un article ; hut as you miaht fancy some-
thinir a litUc more civilized, I wouid say to vou, my vouul'
frieiul, in the larguage of Wordsworth's Solitary,

' This is my domain, my crll,
My licrmitaL;!'. my cal.iii, wiiat you will —
1 Idvc it iicllcr than a snail his Iioum' ;

iiint

niiw vt' shal

Itc lca>tcd Willi our best

Soon as these words had lallen from Ids lips, my friend pro-
ceeded to collect some wood for a lire, luul whihj I was left
to kindle tlu; Ihune, he seized a tin-j)ail, and went after some
sprino- water, which, he said, was sonu' distaiu*e oil". In a few
moments, 1 produced a sulllcient (piantity of lioht to answer
my purpose, and then took occasion to survey the room, into
which. 1 had been thus stran<rely introduced. I'lverythiniK

■■(

THE HERMIT OF AROOSTOOK.

183

sky.

: huly
Biu
anoe,
p his
sliuul-
voice,

it only
rouiul,

ill his
III just

soinc-

VOUUi'

il pro-

:is

somo
|i a Il'NV

US WIT

11, int(>
vthiiiij

about nic soeiiicil to hi; otiditv itscll". I'irsf was (lie huirn firc-
phirc, rudely nnuh- ot" roiiuh stones, and lillcd with ash(^s ;
tiicn the hhudvish appoaranc(> ol" tlie loii' walls around, and the
hemlock rallcrs al»ov»\ In one corner stood a kind ol' wooden
box. lilled with blankets, w lii(di answered the piirj)o>(> ol" a
bed; and in front of the onl\' window in tlic cabin was .i
pine tai)le (ui whi(di stood an inkstand and some writinix
paper, and under which sat a larLM' LH'av eat, watchiuL^ niv
movements with a suspicious eve. In one j)lace stood a
wooden chest, an<l a lialt-barr(d of meal, and tlie onlv tliiiiL^'-^
in the room to .-it upon, were a couple of wooden cliairs.
'J'he crevices in tluj wails were stopped up with rii^js and clav,
and Irom vari ms ratters depended bundles ol' mint, hemlock,
and other iisejul productions of the wood. A nistv (»ld iiun'
and a bome-made lisliinu rod occupied one corner ; and on
every side, rotinir upon wooden peos, were nunuM'ous sludvcs,
of evervsize and lorui, wbicdi were aj propriateil 'o ;, \arietv
of uses. ()n one or two of them were <!ie coidvinL'' utensils
of mv friend; on anollu'r, a lot of siiKtkv books; and on
others, a little of e\t*ry thiui!', Iiaun a iiox of salt or paper ol
tea, ilowii to a spoid of tlireail (»r a paper of needles.

n a few moments mv friend entered the cabin, and imnu

diatelv bciian to prepare our eveninir meal, whicli consisted

ol bread, Iried pork, and salmon, and a cup ol lea

our

lood

1)111 It wa.«

as nicelv coo

ked

as i! 11

li:ul

been doiu; b\- a j)rettv uirl, instead of an old m;m. and ilie
comic pomposity with which every little matter was attended
to. all'orded mo much amusement. ()n(! tliniL'" 1 remember,
whieh stru(d; me as j) irticulaily funny. My host v.as iidk-

lUL*" a

bout the 'ondiict of Sir Ivoberi Peel and llie I5rili>li

Parliament, and wliile in the midst of his discourse, opeiiet

a trap-door leadinu" to liis cellar, and descended tin rein. I
knew not what he was after, and waited bis re-appearaiico
with yome anxiety, when suddenly he bobbed up bis irbosi-

184

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGt'ENAV.

likr Iioad. rcsurnod the thread of his remarks, and hold forth
ii! Olio hand a hni^e piece of fat pork, and as he heoanie ex-
cited ahont the conthict of the Prime .Minister, he occasion-
ally slappj'd tlui pork with the remaininir hand, and *hen
shook it in the air, as if it had been one of the bloody Irish-
men to whom he was occasionally alliidin<x. Hi' reminded
nie of Shakspeare's <rrave-(liiri|er. I also remember, that, when
iiiv friend was kncadin<r his broad, the idea entered ))is head,
from some remark that I had droppcMJ, that i did not com-
jireliond the moaning' of a certain passa<re in Shakspeare ; so
h(! immediately wiped one of his hands, loaned over for his
laontnl cojiy of the miijfhty bard, ant! immediately seltleii the
question lo our liiutual satisfaction.

Supper boiniif ended, I pulled out of my pocket a couple
of ciirars which I liad brouaht with nu\ and we then seated
ours( Ives comfortably before the lire, and enteroil into a sys-
tematic conversation. Tiu^ iireater [)art oi' the talkinji was
done by my companion, and in the course of the evenini:, I
gathered the followiiur particulars respectinij his own history:

11(> tohl me ho was a native of Hampshire, J'jigland, and
liatl spent his boyhood in tlie city of liondon, as a countiuij-
liouse clerk. He claimed a ufood name I'or his family, and
added that Mr. .lerdan, editor of the London JiitiM'ary Ga-
zette, was his brothtor-in-law, havinjT mariiod his oidy sister.
lie avowed liiinself about sixty years of atro, and had b(>on
a resilient of Now IJrunswick ever since the vear 180'.). lie
iirst came across the Atlantic as a uovernment a<,rent, for the
transaction of business connected with the Fur Trade; and
when lie settled in the j)rovince, the whole country was an
untrodden wihlerness. Since th:\t time he had followed a
variety of employments, had acquired a competence, but lost
ii ihrouuh the rascality of friends. He told me he was a
widower, and that he had one son, who resided in Trederick-
lon, and was rapidly acquiring a reputation for his knowledge

THE HERMIT OF AROOr^TOOK.

1H5

I'orlli

! CX-

sion-

^heii
[risli-
iiuled
wlion
head,

com-
e ; so
)r \n^
lhI the

^ouplc
scaled
a sys-
itl \v;is
ninsz, I

^tory
1, aiK

imtinir-

•V (ia-
sister.

jcen

1 1

the

aiu

^vas an

Invo

1)1

I lost

was a

lone

INV

k-
,ludsje

of ciiLMiiccriiiL'". '' It docs iiiv heart jjood to rein(Mnl)er iIiIn
fact," continued my friend, " and I do hope that my son will
not disgrace his family, as some people seem to think I have
done. The God-forsaken inhabitants of this n^^ion have a
habit of calling me a crazy old man. (Jod b(> j)raisc(l ! I
know they overshoot the mark in that particular; il' I have
lost my reason, I can tell the mockini: world that 1 have en-
dured trouble enouirh to make even a philosopher a raving
maniac. By jiatient and unwearied toil, I have won two
small fortunes, but both of them were snatched away, ami I
was lelt a beijirar. The home government took pity on me,
and od'ereil to make me a present of land, adding that 1 was
at liberty to make my own selection. I accepted their oiler,
and selected live hundred acres on the Aroostook, makiuL^ the
fall we visitcid this eveninir the centre of my domain. 1 duly
received a deed for the properiv, and havinii: cf)iicluded that
my fellow-men were as tired of me as 1 was of them, I
bolted for the wilderness, and have lived Ikm'c ever since.
Yes, sir, lor twelve years have I be(Mi the oidy human in-
male of this rude cabin ; I ouir} t to excej)t, however, * a lucid
interval' of some nine months, which 1 spent in Mngland,
about four years ajro, visitinsi^ my friends and the I'avorite
haunts of my childhood. 'J'o enjoy even that little luxury,
I was compelled to sacrifice a portion of my land.*'

IJul

why do you not sell your entire pro})erty, 1 ro

marked, "ami take up your abode among men, where your

knowl

edi-e mmlit be made aval

labl(

Knowleilge, inde(Ml !" replied the herinll pbilosoj)her ;
"all that I possess, you miaht easily hide in the bowl of an
acorn. I do know enouirli to cast my eyes heavenward,
when crushed by misi'orluue, but the same knowledire was
possessed by the worm iijx)!! wbi(di 1 accidentally trod this
morning. What is man, at his best estate, but a worm ?
Bui this is not answering your question. IMy only reason

186

A TOUR TO Tin: RIVER SAOUENAY.

for not srllinu this properly is, tlint I cnnnot find a purcliiiscr.
Most gladly would 1 jump at tlie chance, and then I fro/dd
inintrlc witli my fellow-men, and endeavor to be nf them.
'JVavellers, who sometimes pass thronirh this reirion, tell me
that my projierty is worth $r>0()0 ; I know 'l to he worth at
least that amount, hut I should he Ldad to sell it for ii^.'iOOO,
and that, too, on n credit of ten years. 'J'he interest would,
indeed, !)(> a meaL'"re income, hut I have scliooU''! myself in
the ways of j)overty ; and thouirji it once cost me S2(M)I) to
carry me throuoh a sin<de year, I can tell von that mv ex-
penses for the last five years have not averajred '^lore than
ttrentji dollars, which 1 have had to obtain as best I could.
But you luust not misunderstand me. 'IMie little clearing
which surrounds my rookery, contains six acres, aiul as I
cultivate them with all diligence, they keep me from actual
starvation."

"Hut it strikes me, my dear sir, that you asl^ rather an ex-
travagant price I'or your uncultivated land V { asked this
question with a view of obtaining some information in refer-
ence to the valley of the Aroostook, and was not disappointed.
The reply of my iVicnd was as follows:

"I can convince you that you are mistaken. In the first
place, the water privilege which my land covers, is acknow-
ledged to he liie most valuable on the Aroostook, and I mav
add that it is abundantly fertile. And then think of the
valley, at the very threshold of which I am located ! It is
one of the most beautiful and luxuriant in tins northern
wilderness ; antl the oidy thing against it, though I say it that
should not, is the fact that nearly live miles of its outlet bc-
lonsrs to the English ijovernment, while the remainder belongs
to the United States. The whole of it ought to he vours ;
but if it were, I would not live here a year ; I am near enough
to you m)W ; directly ,xi the boundary line between your
country and mine. The Aroostook, 1 verily believe, is one

■i

Hirst

lOW-

inay
ihc
litis
liern
llliat
bc-
hngs
lirs ;
lugh
I' our
lone

THK HF.KMIT OF AROOSTOOK.

18T

of the most important hranclics of tlic St. .Io)mi. Its nt'iUTal
conrsc is castcrlv, hut it is cxcccciiiiiilv serpentine, and ac-
corclinir to sonu' ot" vour best snrvevors, drains upwards of a
million acres of tlu,' l-est soil in Maine. Aliovc mv plaee.
there is hardly a spot that miLdit not he iiaviiraKHl l»v a small
steamboat, and I helie've tin; lime is not f;ir disiimi when your
enterprisinij: ^ ankees will have a score of boats emidovetl
liore, in carryinir their ifraiii to market. I'efore that time
{?omes. however, von nnist iUis a canal or hnild a I'ailroad
around my heauiiful water-fall, which, I am sure, conld hi.
d'Mie for S>10,00(). An extensive lumheriiiL'' business is now
carried on in the vallev, hnt its future prosperity unist depend
upon its aixriculture. Already art' its shores dolled with
well-cultivated farms, and every year is addinn' to their luim-
ber, and the rural beauty of those alreadv in existence. The
soil '.)f this valley is riidi, and composed principally of what
is called i(lhivhd (iH)t interval) land, lo<rether w th the ([uality
knovvn as i/phnul. In inany portions, however, you will
tind some of the most charminu- intervals in the world. The
trees of this reirion are similar to those of your northern
Slates. The staple crop of the Aroostook i'armer is wheat.
Owiiur to the shortness of our seasons, corn does not arrivi^

at perfection.

and its cnltivali(m is luulected. Uve, barlev

and oats, a

II 11

olUl;

dll

lere, but nmch more i)U!MvW

heal

IS raise

than anv other ijrain besides wheat. (Jrasses llonrish here
in ureal perfection, and the larnu'r of Aroostook will yet
send to nuu-kel inunense f[uantities of "allle. As to the
clinnile, it is not so severe as is nem rally supposed. Siu)

hdls early, ami coniiniU'S late, which prevents the Ln'ouiul
Irom freeziii<( very dee[). And when sumnu'r coim's, as y

mav testilv, th(! wt>ather is sullicieiitly warm b»r every ne-
cessary purpose. Now, sir, <lo you not think 1 have made
out a clear case f \ answrcd in the allirmative, and thanked
him for the information he had L'iven nie. liike Oliver Twist,

''\' " ^

18H

A TOIR TO TMi: RIVER SAGl EXAY.

liowevor, 1 was anxious lor "niore,"a!ul tlun-crorc (.Mulca-
vorc'il to start him on aiiotliCM- suhjoct. In this lautlahle cll'ort
I fully succcL'clccl, and by merely expressini^ ilio opinion that
he must lead a very lonely life" in this remote wilderness.

"Not at all, not at all," re|)lie(i my iViend. "'It is my
jTQod fortune to belon<x to that class of men who tlepend upon
l)ooks, the works of nature, and themselves, for happiness, and
not upon a seliish iind heartless world. As to my hooks, they
are not vi-rv ahundanl, nor are ihev hound in fancy moroceo ;
but the substance of them is of the rii>ht sort. Foremost
amonjr them is the Ijible, which tells even a poor devil like
me that he is a man. Perfect in their generation are the
truths of this glorious old JJook; they have an important
beariniT upon everythin<r; and they should be studied and
cherished with jealous care. IJut the earth-born men, with
whom 1 hold daily coiumunion, arc the mi;irhty Shakspeare,
the sphmdid Gibbon, the irood and h)ving brother poets
Thomson and Wordsworth, the <rified but wayward liurns,
the elejrani and witty Addison, and the jionderous Johnson.
These are the minds whicli always alford me solid satisfac-
tion. As to the immense herd who keep the printiui^ [)resses
of the present day constantly employed, j. know nothing
about them, and care still less. And now as to the pleasures
which are brou<rht to me by tlie revolving seasons. They
are indcied manifold, and it is {)l(!asant to remember that
'Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.' 'J'lie
liills which surround my cabin 1 look upon as familiar
friends ; not only when crowned with a wreath of snow, but
when rejoicinor in their summer bloom; and a more peaceful
and hcart-soothiniT stream can nowhere be found, than the
one which llows alonir by my door; and you know from experi-
ence that it abounds in the linest of salmon and trout. 'J'he
surroundini>" woods furnish me with t^'aine, but their i^reatest
treasures are the ten thousand beautiful birds, whicli luake

THE IIKRMIT OF AROOSTOOK,

1S9

;es

•('S

ley

Kit

'he
iar

)Ut

ful
he

iie

lest

melody ill their lillh> hearts, and .ill'ord me unaUoved pk-asure
for at h'ast one half the y(Mr. I sehloin have oeeasiou to
kill these feathered niiiisirels for food, and the i'ons(M|iieii('e
is, \vhen(!ver I iro out into my fields to work, ihev leather
around me without fear, and ol'tcii (Muiie so ii'ar, as to he in
iriy very way. The ([iiail and the wren, the javand the hliie-
bird, the moekinir-hird, the partridoc, the llsh-hawk, the eairle,
and the erow, and also the swallow, the owl and whi|)[)Oor-
will, all huild their nests williin a stoma's throw of iiiv door,
and thcv know that the friendh-ss old man will do them no
harm. And then what exriuisite pleasure do I eontinually
enjoy in watehiiiir the ever-varyinir ehanues of the year !
First, when the primrose tells me that the rains are over
and iJ^onc, and I <io forth in th(3 r(ifreshinLr sunshine to sow
my seeds; secondly, when the iilorious summer is in its
prime, with its dewy morniiins and lovelv twiliirjits ; also in
the sohiT autumnal time, when 1 ihouiihifullv count the
leaves floatiiiij" on the bosom of the stream; and then aaain
when the cold winds oi" winti r are howlinsr around my cabin,
and 1 sit in my pleasant solitude hefore a roarino; lire, build-
ini^ palaces in my mind, as I peer into the burninfr embers.
Yes, sir, I have learned to live without excnteinent, anil to
depend upon myself for the com[)aiiionship I need. I do,
indeed, occasionally steal out of my beautiful vale, and minirlc
with my fellow men ; but I always return perfectly contented
with mv lot. After all, I do not believe that the world cou/d
add fj;reatly to my stock of ha[)[)ines.s, even if I were a wor-
sliipj)er of Mammon, a brawling politician, or a responsible
statesman."

*' Hut, Mr. KiTger, it strikes me that your manner of life is
not in keeping with the Hible, I'or which you have expressed

so much reverence

»>

"That may be true, ' was the reply, "but I make no sanc-
timonious pretensions. I do but little to promote the happi-

10(1

A TOIR TO Tin; UIVKR SACJIKXAV

ncss of mv IcUow-mfii, :iii(l I conirratiilatc invscll with i\\v

len tlial I do as little to uiaki? tlicm miserable

'J'l

le Iltllll-

(Mice ol iiiy example amounts to nolliiiiLT, and I irive no bread
10 the poor, because 1 have non<' to aive. Hut let us droji
the subject; 1 feel tliat your ([uestions may so aiinov me, that
I shall be com|)elled to abandon lliis (.dorious old wilderness,
and become a denizen of tlu; busy and noisy world.''

A brea(di havinjr thus been madi' in our discourse, 1 ex-
amined my watch, and found it to be near twelv(; o'cdock.
My companion took the hint, and immediately proceeded to
fix a sleepinir place that would accommodate us both. 'J'his
was (lone by spreadinir the (dothes of the wooden bedstead
upon the lloor. \\ bile <roin<r through with this little opera-
lion, he held hi^h above his head a rair^ed old bcd-(juilt, and
asked me what 1 thoiiLdit C^ueeu N'ictoria would say, if she
had su(di an article to rest her royal liud)s upon .' He then
pointed to the particidar spot which he wanted nu' to occupy.
givin<j; as a reason for the reipiest, that there was a htde on
the opposite side of his mansion, where loads, rats, and
weasels were Ireciuently in the habit of enterini,'', and lu? was
afraid that they might annoy me, thouirh lie liad never been
disturbed by their nocturnal visits. 'J'his ini'orination ap-
peared to me somewhat ])eculiar, but did not prevent me
from undressing myself to lie down. When about half through
tliis business, lio-.vever, I was actually compelled to take a
seat on account of a lauohing fit brought upon me by one
(11 iv/o stories, which my host related for my special beneiit.
What a strange man, indeed ! thought 1, and making another
ellbrt, 1 tumbled into bed. In the mown time, my companion
had stripped himself of everything but his shirt, and in spite
of th«; frailty of his "spindle shanks," was throwing himself
into the attitudes for which Kemble was distinguished, whose
acting he had often witnessed in olden times. I was already
quite exhausted with excess of laughter, and i verily believed

;

THK lir.RMIT OF AROOSTOOK.

191

thai llic (iiiccr antics of tlio aiu'horiU' and j)liilos()j)li('r would
be the death of me. Hill I It It ihal I iiiiist ao to sh'cp, ami,
in S( ir-dcfciice, j)artly covered inv head with the end ol a
(]llilt, and ahnosl swore that 1 would not he disuiihed ai:ain.
I did not swear, however, and was c()nset|uenll\ aijain dis-
turbed. I had just tixed my lu.'ad upon the pdlow, as I
thouirht, for the last lime, when I was startled hv a tremen-
dous yell pro(.'e(!dinir from without the cabin. 1 rushed out of
the hous(; as if the old Harry himself had been after me,
and beheld my spare ami venerable friend sitlini.'- ujxm a
stump, lia/inir upon the risimr moon, and lisieniny- to the
distant howl of a wolf, with on(> of his feet daiinlinij; t(> and
fro like the jx-ndulum of a cloidc. '* Wasn't that a musieal
yell, my boy ?" were the lirst words spoken bN the hermit
mail-cap; and then he went on to point on! all ihe liner fea-
tures of the sci'iu' spread out before us. SihniU llowed the
stream, uraiul and sublime looked the mountains, clear and
very blue the sky, spirit-liki! the moon and stars, and above

le nei<(libormo- w:iter-lall ascended a column ol spray, which
[US fast nudtini: iulo a snowy idoud. Alter enjoy inir this

picture lor a reasonable time, my companion then proposfM

that

e siiouUl enjoy a swim m the river, to winch arrant^e

Inch

menl 1 assented, (.'ven as did the weddinir-ifuest of ('oleridge
to the command of the Ancient .Mariiujr. Our bath ended,
we returned to the cabin, ami in the course of half an hour.

the h

lermil and the stran<»er were side by sKh; in ihi! arms ol

le b

deep.
Oi

n openinE;' my eyes in the morninfr, the pleasant sunshine
was lloodini>- ihe lloor through the o[)en dcxu', and my friend,
who hail risen without distiirbini; me, was frviui: stjiiie- trout
which he had just taken in tiie stream. I arose, rolled up
the bed, and prepannl myself for breakfast, which was par-
ticularly relished by the giver and the receiver. 1 spent the
forenoon ramblin<^ about the estate of iii) old friend, and en-

192

A Torn TO Tin: river saoffnay.

joyinir the surmnndinir sccnory ; I then proposed to him fli-.t
he should iTo down and he my ^mest at the tavern on the St.
John h)r a day or two, which invitation was aceej)ted. On
my return, I took a sketch of the sechuh-d vale where stands
the c(,tta^rc of my friend, also a profile of his own Jiandsome
face, and a view of his water-fall. The time of my departure
hav.ncr arrived, I left my friend with a hcnvv hJart, for my
distant (Mty-home, while lie returned to his solitary cottage
amon<r the mountains. ' "^

!._

itmmmammk,-

CHAP r i: K XXII.

Tho RiviT St. Julif).

IVnn'hlDik, July

I HAVE recently performed a piltrriiiKigc; alonir ih(^ valley
of the TiOsvcr St. John, and as I am about to leave \]\r. river,
it is meet that I .shoulti ii'iw. my reath'r a record of my ob-
servations. The distance from the Falls of St. Tolm to the
city of that name, is two hundred and twenty miles. The
width of the river varies from a ([uarter of a mile to two
miles, and the depth from tw(j to forty feet. That portion
lying north of Frederickton abounds in rapids and shallows,
and is navigated only by flat-bottomed boats, which arc taken
up stream by horse power, but descend with the tmrrenl.
Here, for the most part, the shores are mountainous, and only
partly cultivated, with high and picturescpie baidvs; the lowest
portion, however, is of a level character, and presents the
appearance of an ancient and highly cultivated country, and
is navigated by steamboats, and the common sail-craft of the
country. The soil all along the shores is good, but seems
better adapted for grass than wheat, and I can see no good
reason for its not becoming greatly distinguished as a grazing
country.

The river is not distinguished for any pictorial feature,
(though it abounds in beautiful landscapes,) excepting a place
13

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET {MT-3)

1.0

I.I

Illll 1.8

1.25 1.4

1.6

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Photographic

Sciences

Corporation

33 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716) 872-4503

^■

i I

194

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGUENAY.

called the Narrows, situated at the southern extremity. At
this point the stream is not more than live hundred yards
wide, and as it is bounded on either side by a higli rocky bar-
rier, the current ordinarily passes tlirough with great rapidity.
The tides of the ocean ascend about thirty miles, and it is
only when the tide is high that the point in question can be
navigated. Tliough these Narrows are a great annoyance to
the navigator, by the lover of the picturesque they are highly
esteemed. — Not only are they beautiful in themselves, but,
owing to the peculiarity of the place, it is frequently the case,
that the broad expanse of water above it is covered with a
fleet of sloops, schooners, steamboats, towboats, and timber
crafts, which present a peculiar and agreeable panorama.
The river abounds with salmon and shad, and the former,
though rather small, may be taken by the angler in tlie prin-
cipal tril)utaries. They are not sufFiciently abundant, how-
ever, to constitute an important article of commerce, and the
common modes of taking them are with the spear and the
drift net.

The principal towns on the St. John are, Woodstock,
French Village, Frederickton and St. John. The first of
these is one hundred and fifty miles from the mouth, and
though a ragged, yet an interesting village. So far as its na-
tural productions are concerned, I am disposed to compliment
this province in the highest terms ; but I must say, that the
ignorance, idleness, and gouging character of its common peo-
ple, have made me quite willing to take my departure there-
from. The expenses of travelling are enormous. Stage
fares average about twelve cents per mile, and if you happen
to spend a week at a miserable country tavern, you will have
to pay two dollars per day for board. With a few exceptions,
there is hardly a country tavern in the province, where the
traveller is not in danger of being robbed. It was my good
fortune to be robbed only twice, but I was particularly fortu-

•i

THE RIVER ST. JOHN.

195

ive
ns,
he
iod
tu-

1
5

nate. Tliis is rather severe, but I am driven to talk in this
strain, though 1 would not be understood as rellerlinir upon
the better classes of the province.

Tiic staiie route from the (Jrand Falls to St. John passes
through Woodstock, but the distance from this place to the
American town of lloulton is ten miles, and in this direction
there is also an estai)lished stajre route to Bangor.

The next place on the St. John of any note is French
Village. It usually contains a thousand souls — most of them
Indians. Thev live in frame and lo^ houses, and thou<rh
they pretend to do some farming, they are chiclly engaged in
hunting and tishing. They are a good-looking race, speak
English lluently, and are the followers of a (Jatholic priest,
who lives among them, and oHiciates in a small chapel which
was built by the Jesuits at an early day. This society is
said to be one of the most wealthy in the province. The
chief of the village is one Louis Beir. lie lives in a very
comfortable and well-furnished house, is rather a handsome
man, dresses in a half-savage manner, and while he offers
his visitor a comfortable chair, he invariably seats himself
upon the floor in the true Indian fashion.

Fredericklon is at the head of the steamboat navigation,
and distant from St. John eighty miles. Between tliese two
places there runs a morning and evening boat, and the sum-
mer travel is quite extensive. Frederickton contains about
eight thousand inhabitants, composed, principally, of Irish,
Scotch and English. It contains three principal streets, run-
ning north and south, and some half dozen handsome public
buildings, including an Episcopal church, after the Tuscan
order, a court house and a college. The town is situated
on a level plain, and its suburbs are made exceeding beautiful
by the number of rural residences which attract the eye in
every direction. The elm and poplar both seem to flourish
here, and add much to the picluresqueness of the place and

196

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGUENAY.

vicinity. The business of Frederickton is only of a second-
rate character, and it has become what it is, merely from ihe
fact that it has heretofore been the seat of government. This
fact has also had a tendency to collect a good society in the
place, and its " ton," thongh in a small way, have been dis-
posed to cut quite a dash. The ''mother Parliament," I be-
lieve, has recently removed the seat of government to St.
John, and the lovers of Frederickton are sorry and a little
angry.

The city of St. John stands at the mouth of the river of
that name, and is also laved by the waters of the Bay of
Fundy. I hate cities, but suppose that I must stop a moment
in the one alluded to. It is a business place, planted among
rocks, contains some twenty thousand inhabitants, (two-thirds
of whom are Irish,) and in this port, at the present time, is
moored a fleet of two hundred ships. Its public buildings
are numerous, the finest of which are th'» court house, an
Episcopal church of the Doric order, another after the Goth-
ic, and a Presbyterian church after the Corinthian order.
The city is defended by a fortress, which presents a hand-
some appearance as you approach the port. The merchants
of the place are chiefly employed in the square timber trade,
and have, heretofore, done an extensive business. This trade,
however, 1 am inclined to believe, is rapidly running out.
On the opposite side of the St. John River is a picturesque
point or hill, which is called Carlton Hill. It is surmounted
by a massive block-house, and commands an extensive view
of the Bay of Fundy, the spring tides of which rise to the
height of sixty feet, and when coming in, make a terrible
roar.

aiu

CHAPTER XXIII.

The Penobscot River.

Off the Const of Maine, July.

One week ajro I was fightinfr with iniisquitoes and (lies,
on the head waters of the I'enobscot, and now that I am
upon the ocean once more, I fancy that my feehni(.s are allied
to those of an old moose that I lately saw stanihnij in a moun-
tain lake, with the water up to his chin. The noble river
which I have mentioned, is all my fancy painted it, and in
spite of its insect inhabitants, I shall ever remember it with
pleasure.

The length of this stream from the mouth of its bay to
where its principal branches come tofrother, is al)out one
hundred and forty miles; from this junction, to the fountain
head of the west branch, the distance is supposed to be one
hundred and fifty miles, while the east branch is probably
only one hundred miles in len4rih. lioth of these streams
rise in the midst of a mountain wilderness, looming above
which is old Kathaden, the loftiest mountain in Maine, and
elder brother to Mount Washington, in New Hampshire.
The mountain is distant from Moosehead Lake only about
twenty miles, but it towers into the sky so grandly, that
nearly all the people who inhabit the northern part of Maine
look upon it as a familiar friend. The two branches of the

19R

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGUENAY.

I I'

II ;

' \

Penobsnot run through a mountainous region, both of thorn
abounding in rapids, ihougli tlic west branch contains a num-
ber of picturesque falls. 'J'he soil of this region, gcneraily
speaking, is good, but remains in its original wildncss.
Its stationary inhabitants are few and far between ; but it
gives employment to al)out three tiiousand lumbermen. They
spend the winter wielding the axe in the forests, and the
spring and summer in driving down the stream logs which
they have prepared for tiie saw-mills, which are mostly
located on the lower part of the Penobscot. IVine months
in the year they labor without ceasing, but usually appro-
})riate to themselves a play spell of three months, which is
the entire autumn. They a;e u young and powerfully built
race of men, mo.-iily New Knglanders, generally unmarried,
and, though rude in their manner, and intemperate, are quite
intelligent. Tiiey seem to have a passion for their wild and
toilsome life, and, judging from their dresses, I should think
possess a fine eye for the comic and fantastic. 'J'he entire
apparel of an individual usually consists of a pair of gray
pantaloons and two red flannel shirts, a pair of long boots,
and a woollen covering for the head, and all these things are
worn atone and the same time. The head-covering alluded
to, when first purchased, is what might be called a hat, but
the wearers invariably take particular pains to transform the
article into such queer shapes as to render it indescribable.
Sometimes they take the crown and tie it in the shape of a
fool's cap, and sometimes they trim the rims with a jack
knife into many diflerent fashions. Their wages vary from
twenty to thirty dollars per month, and they are chiefly em-
ployed by the lumber merchants of Bangor, who furnish
them with necessary supplies.

The Penobscot, I suppose, is unquestionably the most
fruitful lumber river in the United States, and its pine and
hemlock forests seem yet to be inexhaustible; and the State

THE PENOBSCOT RIVER.

199

of Maine is iiulcbted to tlu; lumber business for many of its
beautiful cities and towns.

P'rom the Forks of the Peno1)scot to Banfror, tlie distance
IS about sixty miles. This portion of the river is nearly a
quarter of a mile wide. The banks are rather low and level,
and somewhat eultivated. The water is deep ;uul clear, atul
the current stroiifr. (»eiicrally speakin<r, the sceiierv of the
river is not remarkable, and were it not for the numerous
islands, it mij^ht be considered tame, by the lover of a moun-
tain land. The islands alluded to, however, arc exciM'dintrly
beautiful. Covered as they are witli venera!)le elms, and
containinn^ no underbrush, but a continuous plot of ^reen,
they have all the appearance of cultivated parks. The stajre
route from Woodstock, after reachinir the Pciioljscot, con-
tinues alonfj the eastern bank, and as the coaches are com-
fortable, and the horses <i[ood, the ride is (juite pleasant.
The principal villatre, of which there are four, is Old Town.
It is a busy little place, and the present termination of a rail-
road from IJaniror, which is twelve miles distant. Directly

ite Old Town is a small island, where resides a re

nant of the Penobscot Indians. They numi)er some four
hundred souls, and are just sulTiciently civilized to lead a very
miserable sort of life.

I come now to speak of Baniror. It is a well built, and
handsome city, eighty miles from the ocean, and contains
about eii,dit thousand inhabitants. It is at the head of tide
wp^er navination, and has a good harbor, where I counted,
from one point, nearly two hundred sails. The principal
article of trade is lumber, which is distinguislu^d for its ^ood

lua

litioj

All tl

le heaviest mere

hant

s are (Migatre

th(

lumber trade, and almost everybody deals in it to a limited
extent. A few thousand shiufrles will pay your tailor for a
coat, a few loads of plank will settle your account with the

200

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGUENAY.

i i

i I

butcher, and bundles of clap-boards are gladly received by
the grocer, in excliange for his sugar and tea.

With the people of Bangor I was very much pleased.
Tiieir manners and habits are stamped with the true New
England character; they mind their own business, and are
distinguished for their intelligence, virtue and hospitality.
When I reached this place, my beard was more tlun half as
long as that of the W^andering Jew, and it took me nearly a
whole day to forgot the bad French wliich I had acquired in
Canada and New Brunswick, and transform myself into the
semblance of a civilized man. I had been in the woods for
so long a time, that I seized the first paper I saw to find out
whether 1 had forgotten to read. You may readily imagine,
therefore, what a refreshing eflcct the appearance and con-
Tcrsation of intelligent people had upon my feelings. But
the class of citizens who made the deepest impression upon
me, were the children of Bangor. I met them at every cor-
ner, and heard their happy voices in every dwelling, and a
more perfectly beautiful race of creatures I never before saw
in any city.

The distance from Bangor to the ocean is eighty miles.
For twenty miles, the river averages three quarters of a mile
in width, when it gradually widens into an expansive bay or
gulf. The water is deep, always covered with vessels, and
abounds in salmon, which are taken only with the net. The
shores are hilly and well cultivated, and the towns of Bucks-
port, Frankfort, Belfast, and Thomaston, as you pass them,
present each a thriving and pleasant appearance.

t K

-UP

-™J>'

CHAPTER XXIV.

Moosehead Lake and the Kenncbeck River.

Pari land, .August.

Moosehead Lake is the lari^est and tlic wildest in New
Englariil. It lies in the central portion of the Slate of Maine,
and distant from the ocean about one hundred and lifiv miles.
Its length is fifty miles, and its width from five to fifteen.
It is embosomed among a brotherhood of mountains, whose
highest peak hath been christened with the beautiful name
of Kathadcn. All of them, from base to summit, are covered
with a dense forest, in which the pine is by far the most
abundant. It is the grand centre of a vast wilderness region,
whose principal denizens are wild beasts. During the sum-
mer months, its tranquil waters remain in luibroken solitude,
unless some scenery-hunting j :i<;;rlm, like myself, happens to
steal along its shores in his birchen canoe. But in the winter,
the case is very diiFerent, for then, all along its borders, may
be heard the sound of the axe, wielded by a thousand men.
Then it is that an immense quantity of logs are cut, which
are manufactured into lumber at the extensive mills down
the Kenncbeck, which is the only outlet of the lake.

A winter at Moosehead must be attended with much that
is rare, and wild, and exciting, not only to the wealthy pro-
prietor who has a hundred men to superintend, but even to

202

A TOUR TO TJIE RIVER SAfJUENAY.

I I

*i'

i I

li '

•k

the toilintr cliopper hirnsolf. liook at a siiiirlc sprriinon of
llu; jrladdcn'mfr scenes enacted in tliat forest world. It is an
awful ni<.Hit, llio winds wailinjr, tho snow faliinjj, and the for-
ests making a moan. IJeforc you is a spacious, hut rudely
built log cahin, almost covered with snow. But now, ahove
the shriek of the storm, and the howl of the wolf, you hear
a loiiiT, loud shout, from a score of human mouths. You
enter the cahin, and lo, a merry band of nohle men, some
lying on a hutfalo-rohc, and some seated upon a loir, while
the huge fire before them r(!veals every feature and wrinkle
of their countenances, and makes a picture of the ricliest
coloring. Now the call is for a song, and a young man sings
a song of Scotland, which is his native lanil ; a mug of cider
then goes round, after which an old pioneer clears his throat
for a hunting legend of the times of old; now the cunning
jest is heard, and peals of hearty laughter shake the building;
and now a soul-stirring speech is delivered in favor of Henry
Clay. The lire-place is again replenished, when, with a
happy and contented mind, each woodman retires to his couch,
to sleep, and to dream of his wife and children, or of the
buxom damsel whom he loves.

The number of logs wdiich these men cut in a sin<>lc winter,
is almost incredible, and the business of conveying them to the
lake upon the snow gives employment to a great many additional
men and their oxen. The consequence is, that large quan-
tities of flour, potatoes, pork, and hay, are consumed; and as
these things are mostly supplied by the farmers of the Kenne-
beck, winter is the busiest season of the year throughout the
region. When the lake is released from its icy fetters in
the spring, a new feature of the logging business comes into
operation, which is called rafting. A large raft contains
about eighteen thousand logs, and covers a space of some
ten acres. In towing them to the Kennebeck, a small steam-
boat is employed, which, when seen from the summit of a

MOOSEHEAD LAKE.

203

hill, looks liko ;i liviii«r croatiire struL^uliti!: uilli a iiiiuhlv
incuhus. lUit the most pictiir('S([iic thiiiij comicctcd with
this husinoss is a lloatiiiff loir-rahiii, called a Rait Iloiisr,
wiiich ovor attonils a raft on its way to tho ri\( r. During
the Slimmer, as before stated, Moosehead liake is a perfect
solitude, for the '• loi^-chopper" has become a '* 1<\2' diiver" on
the Keimebeck — the little steamer haviriLC been moored in
its shelterini^ bay, near the tavern at tlie soiilli end of the
lake, and the toilini^ oxen been permitted to enjoy their sum-
mer sabbath on the farm of their master.

The islands of Moosehead T^ake, of any size, ar(> only four:
Moose and Deer Islands at the southern extremity, Sufrar
Island in the lar<re eastern bay, and Farm Island in a north-
western direction from that. All of these are covered with
beautiful jrroves, but the time is not far distant when they
will be cultivated farms. Trout are the principal fish that
flourish in its waters, and maybe eau«rht at any time in great
abundance. And thertdjy han<(s -a fish story.

It was the sunset hour, and with one of my companions,
I had gone to a rocky ledge for the purpose of trying my luck.
Our bait was squirrel meat, and I was the first to throw the
line. It had hardly reached the water, before I had the
pleasure of striking and securing a two pound trout. This
threw my friend into a perfect fever of excitement, so that
he was everlastingly slow in cutting up the scpiirrel; and it
may be readily supposed that I was somewhat excited myself;
80 I grabbed the animal out of his hands, and in less than a
"jifl^y," and with my Iceth, made a number of good baits.
The conclusion of the whole matter was, that in less than
forty minutes we had caught nearly seventy pounds of sal-
mon trout. But the fish of Moosehead are not to be com-
pared with tliose of Iloricon in point of delicacy, though
they are very large, and very abundant. The reason of this
is, that its waters are not remarkably clear, and a good deal

204

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAOUENAY.

I 1

of its bottom is imuldy. Moose River, which is the princi-
|)al tributary of the Lake, is a narrow, deep, and picturesque
stream, where may be caugiit the common trout, weigliing
from one to five pounds.

In this portion of Maine every variety of forest game may
be found ; but the principal kinds are tlie gray wolf, the black
bear, the deer, and the moose. Winter is the appropriate
season for their capture, when ihey afford a deal of sport to
the hunter, and furnish a variety of food to the forest laborers.
Deer arc so very plenty, that a certain resident told me, that,
in the deep snow of last winter, he caught some dozen of
them alive, and having cut a slit in their ears, let them go,
that they might recount to their kindred their marvellous
escape. IJut the homeliest animal, the most abundant, and
the best for eating, is the moose. I did not kill one, but
spent a night with an old hunter who did. During the warm
summer night, these animals, for the purpose of getting clear
of the black fly, are in the habit of taking to the water, where,
with nothing but their heads in sight, they remain for hours.
It was the evening of one of those cloudless nights whose
memory can never die. We were alone far up ttie Moose
River, and it seemed to me, " we were the first that ever
burst into {haiforest sea." On board a swan-like birch canoe
we embarked, and with our rifles ready, we carefully and
silently descended the stream. How can I describe the
lovely pictures that w^e passed? Now we peered into an
ink-black recess in the centre of a group of elms, where a
thousand fire-flies were revelling in joy ; — and now a solitary
duck shot out into the stream from its hidden home, behind
a fallen and decayed tree; now we w^atched the stars mirrored
in the sleeping waves, and now we listened to the hoot of
the owl, the drum of the partridge, the song of a distant
water-fall, or the leap of a robber-trout. It was not far from
midnight when my companion whispered, " Hush, hush !"

THE RIVER KENNFRECK.

205

e
n

f
t

and pointod to a dim spot some luindrpd yards hrlow. The
first clianco was allotted me, so I took the best aim I eoiiUl,
and fired. I he:ird the ball skip aloni^ the water, and on
comint^ near, found my mark to be only a smooih roek.
Two hours more passed on, one small moose was killed,
and at day-break wc were in our eabin fast asleep.

The principal outlet of iMoosehead fiake is the Keimcbeck,
whieh now " demands my soncr." It is the second river in
Maine, and one of the most beautiful I have ever seen. In-
stead of watering a wilderness, as I had supposed, all alon<r
its valley, for over a hundred miles, are fertile and extensive
farms, with here and there a thrivinj^ village, inlsabited by an
intelligent and industrious people. Its principal tributary is
Dead River, and the spot at the junction of the two is called
the Forks. The cultivated region stops liere, and between
this point and Moosehead, the distance is about twenty-five
miles, and this portion is yet a forest wilderness.

The principal attraction at the Forks is a capital tavern,
kept by one Burnham, who is a capital fellow to guide the
lover of Nature, or the trout fisherman, to Moxy Fall or
Nameless Lake, which are in the immediate vicinitv. The
mountains about here are quite lofty, and exceedingly pictur-
esque, abounding in the maple, the oak, the pine and hem-
lock. Emptying into the Kennebeck, a few miles north of
the Forks, is a superb mountain stream, named Moxy, after
an Indian who was there drowned many years ago. Wind-
ing for a long distance among wild ravines, and eternally
singing to the woods a trumpet song, it finally makes a sud-
den plunge into a chasm more than a hundred feet in depth.
The perpendicular rocks on either side rise to an immense
height, their tops crowned with a " peculiar diadem of trees,"
and their crevices filled up with dark-green verdure, whence
occasionally issues, hanging gracefully in the air, beautiful
festoons of the ivy, and clusters of the mountain blue-bell.

:' %

206

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAOUENAY.

The depth of the pool was never told, and its waters wash
against the granite walls in a perpetual gloom. On one
occasion 1 visited it when there was a high freshet, and saw
what I could hardly have believed from a description. I
stood on an elevated point, in front of the Fall, when my
eyes rested upon an'immense log, some sixty feet long, com-
ing down the foaming stream with all the fury of a maddened
steed; presently it reached the precipice, — then cleaved its
airy ])athway down into the hell of waters, — was completely
out of sight for at least two minutes; then, like a creature en-
dowed with life, it sliot upward again, clear out of the water,
made another less desperate plunge, and quietly pursued its
course into the Kennebeck.

In speaking of Nameless Lake, it is necessary that I should
be a little egotistical. It is a fairy-like sheet of pure water
in the heart of tlic mountain wilderness, only about a mile
in length, but full of trout. The proprietor was of the party
that accompanied me on my first visit. While approaching
it, the remark was made that it was yet without a name ;
when it was agreed that it should be christened after that
individual who should on that day throw the most successful
fly. As fortune would have it, the honor was awarded to
me ; and on a guide-board in ijie forest, three miles from
Burnham's, may be seen the figure of a hand, and the words
" Lake Lanman." There stands my written name, exposed
" to the ptdtings of the pitiless storm ;" and in a few years,
at the longest, it will be washed away, ajid the tree which
supports it be mingling with the dust. Will it be even thus
with the mcmori) of my name?

Not to attem pt a description of the scenery of the Kennebeck,
which could be faithfully given only by the pictures of a Cole
or Durand, I will take my readers down its beautiful valley,
and tell them what I know respecting its beautiful villages.

The first in order is Bingham, situated on a fertile '* inter-

THE RIVER KENNEBECK.

207

val," surrounded willi picturesque liills, clianuin*^ and (|uiet
as a summer day, and containing williin the jurisdiction of
its town an uncommonly tine farm, belonging to a Mr. l*ar-
lin, wiio manufactures large quantities of maple sugar.

Solon is the next village in the Kenncbeck valley, remark-
able for nothing but Caritunk Falls, which are twenty feet
high, and run through a gorge fifty feet wide. Here 1 saw
some twenty men " driving" the logs that had been lodged
all along the river when it was low. It is a laborious life
which these men lead, but they receive good pay, and meet
with many interesting adventures. They generally have the
soul to enjoy fine scenery, and therefore demand the respect
of the intellicrent traveller.

Anson, though in the valley of the Kcnnebeck, is situated
on Seven Mile Brook, and is a nourishing business place.
From its neighboring hills may be seen the sky-piercing
peaks of Mount Blue, Saddleback, Bigelow and Mount Abra-
ham, which are the guardian spirits of Maine. The town is
distinguished for its agricultural enterprise, and the abundance
of its wheat, having actually produced more than is reported
from any other town in the State.

Norridgwock, so named by the Kennebeck Indians, be-
cause, when fighting with their enemies at this place, they
could find no-ridge-to-umlk upon, which was a desirable ob-
ject. It is a charming little village, and associated with a
celebrated Indian chief named Bomazeen, and also with a
Jesuit missionary, whose name I do not remember. Not far
from here is a picturesque fall, also a picturesque bend of the
Kennebeck, where empties Sandy River, upon which are
many extensive farms.

Skowhegan is a thriving village, where there are fine falls,
which I could never look upon without thinking of the fa-
mous Glen's Falls in New York, of which they are a per-
fect counterpart, though on a smaller scale. Many and very

208

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGUENAY.

dear to me are my recollections of its "choice bits" of scen-
ery, of the fine singing I there heard, of the acquaintances
there formed, and of the pleasant literary communings which
were mine in company with one of the best and most intel-
lectual of women, and who has, for many years, been my
"guide, coimselor, and friend."

Waterville, the next town on the river, is the seat of a
Baptist college, and the head of navigation on account of
the Ticonic Falls. It is the centre of an extensive farming
district, which fact, together with the literary taste of its peo-
ple, makes it an uncommonly interesting place.

Augusta, the capital of the State, is also on the Kennebeck,
and with its Slate House and other state buildings, its ad-
mirably conducted hotels, its commanding churches, its large
bridge, and pleasant residences, is one of the most pictur-
esque and interesting towns in the whole of New England.

Hallowell, two miles below Augusta, was once a great
place for business, and is still a very pleasant town, though
unable to compete with its rival the capital. In my mind,
it is chiefly associated with some fine people, and particularly
with three beautiful sisters, who are great lovers of poetry,
and accomplished musicians.

Gardiner, further down, is a tremendous place for saw-
mills ; and lumbering I look upon as one of the surest kinds
of business. It contains the handsomest church-building in
the state, and a number of fine residences belonging to its
wealthy citizens, of which that one belonging to Mr. Gardi-
ner (after whom the place was named), is the finest.

Bath is the next and most southern town on the Kenne-
beck ; it is quite a large place, where there is a great deal of
shipping done, and is now in a flourishing condition. The
sail down the river from here is a most delightful one, for
the eye revels on a continual succession of pleasant farms,
quiet headlands, solitary islands, and vessels of every kind

■^- -_ _ J^'E KE.VN-EHECK RIVRR.

'he Koniiebcck abouiuis i, l,/':.';" '," ""■ '"-^-' ''•■'>■-
nets A-or„ ,ho f.rst of M-.v ill ' "''' '"' '■■"'^'''t with

^^i'l. 'ho hook i. lliic s i 7""r- ''" "''' ""■"■

.-; cort.ii, passage ii, *„;,/„,' [!'" '">■ "-'- '<>
the rivors that I love moro 1 "'""/"•''"".?• 1'Vmv are

'--;o .0 a. its .aiii,ras:t:;:, ,;;:/--'''-'--^ -y

of literature as beiii. ,he „ " I '"'"<•«""? to the lovers

Mrs. Seba S™ith, aiid ti.rS." ^" "' '"'•"'• ^°"='-^'""--

)

CHAPTER XXV.

A fishing; party on the Tliainos — Wat<'li Hill — IVi:;l)l advonturos.

yvriridi, Conn.. Annual.

A FEW mornings ago, just as the snn luul risen above the
eastern iiills, wliicli look clown npon the Thames at Norwich,
the prettiest sail-boat oC the place lei't her mooriniis, and with
a pleasant northerly breeze started for the Sonnd. Her
passengers consisted of six gcintleinen, all equii)ped in their
sporting jackets, and furnished with iisliing tackle, and their
place of destination was Watch Hill, which is a point of land
in Kliode Island, extending into the Atlantic, a few miles
from Stoninglon. AVe were on a fishing frolic, as a matter
of course, and a happier company, I ween, were never yet
afloat, for the sport of a morning breeze. What with the
story, the jest, the iced lemonade and exquisite cigar, the
minutes glided by as swiftly and unobserved as the tiny waves
around us. Now we met a solitary fisherman, towing for
bass, and as we hailed him wit!) a friendly shout, and passed
by, he began to talk in an under tone, and his voice did not
die away until we had turned a point. What would I not
give for an accurate record of that old man's life ! Anon, we
witnessed the soothing picture of a well-conducted farm, with
its green-girt cottage, spacious barns, neat and flowing fields,
and its horses and oxen, cows, sheep, hogs, and poultry.

SAILING DOWN THE THAMES.

211

Now wc saw some nol)lf3 men, such as Vernet dc^liiihted to
paint, liniilini^ the seine, and, as the "fruit of all tluMr toil"
were thrown npon the sand, their llippinir forms r{!llected
back the sunlisrht, remindin<; us of — anvthinu the reader mav
be pleased to imagine. Now, we were overtaken and tossed
about by a steamer bound to New Haven ; and then we
sailed in company with a boat, a sloop, and schooner ;
meetinsf otliers, bealin<r up, from Boston, New York, and
Philadelphia. And the termination of this pleasing panorama
was composed of (male's Ferry, the commanding town, fort,
and monument of Groton, tojrether wilfj the city of New
London, among whose anchored shipping floated the saucy
Revenue Cutter, and at whose docks were chained a goodly
number of storm-beaten whalers.

Having taken in "our stores," and obtained from the fish-
market a basket of bait, we again hoisted sail, " bound first
to Commit Rock," and " binding" ourselves to capture all of
the watery enemy which might tempt the power or the dex-
terity of our arms.

When about three miles from New London, all eyes were
attracted by a beautiful craft on our lee, laden with a parly
of ladies and gentlemen. "They're going towards a reef!"
exclaimed our captain; and no sooner had the words escaped
his lips, than the stranger struck, and stove a hole through
her bottom. AVe were just in time to save the party from a
watery grave; and when we had landed tlunn in safety on
the beach, we were well repaid for our trouble by the con-
sciousness of having done a good act, and by tlie thankful
words and beniii^nant smiles of the ladies fair. A dozen

minutes more and we were within oar's lensfth of the fishi

rock. " All ashore, that's coming !" shouted our mate as
he stood on the rock, when we all leaped out, and plenty of
line being given her, the boat swung to, and "like a cradled
thing at rest," floated upon the waves. Then commenced

212 A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGUENAY.

the sport. The brorzo was rcfrrshins", and the breath of the
salt sea-foam buoyed up our spirits to a hiii^her pitcii, and
gave new vii^or to our sinews. 'J'he you nicest of the party
was the first who threw liis liook, which was snapped in the
twinklintr of an eye. Another trial, and a four-pound blaek-
fish lay extended upon the rock. Another, and another, and
another, until fourscore, even-numbered, came followiiiir after.
Tired of the sport, two of the party entered the boat, and
hoisted sail for a little cruize. Half an hour had elapsed,
wiien the steady breeze changed into a frightful i^ale, capsiz-
ing within hailing distance a lishing boat with two old men
in it. Hanging on, as they were, to the keel of the boat,
(which, luiving no ballast, could not sink,) their situation was
extremely dangerous, as there was not a vessel within two
miles. The poor men beckoned to us to help them ; but as
our boat was gone, we could not do so, which of course we
much regretted. For one long, long hour did they thus hang,
"midway betwixt life and death," exposed to the danger of
being washed away by the remorseless surge, or swallowed
up, as we were afterwards told, by a couple of sharks, which
were kept away only by the hand of Providence. This in-
cident tended to cool our ardor for fishing, and as we were
satisfied with that day's luck, we put up our gear, during
which time the boat arrived, and we embarked for the Hill.
We made one short turn, however, towards the boat which
had picked up the fishermen, as we were anxious to tell them
why wc did not come to their relief. We then tacked about,
and the last words we heard from our companions were :
"Thank you — thank you — God bless you all," and until we
had passed a league beyond Fisher's Island, our little vessel
"carried a most beautiful bone between her teeth."

At sunset we moored our little boat on the eastern shore of
Paucatuck Bay. On ascending to the Watch Hill hotel, we
found it to be a large, well-furnished house, and our host to

WATCH HILL.

213

be a fat and jolly FalstaH'-ish sort of man, just suited to his
station. At seven o'clock we sat down to a lirst-rate hlack-
tish supper, then smoked a eiu'ar, and while my companions
resorted to the ten-pin alley, I buttoned up my pea-jacket,
and sallied lorth on an " exploriuir expedition," As I stood
on the highest point of the peninsula, facintr the south, I
found that the li(Hit-housc stood ilirectlv before me, on the
extreme j)oint, that a smooth beach faded away on either side,
the left hand one beinir washed by the Atlantic, and that on
the rif^ht by the waters of Fisher Island Bay, and thai the
drearv hills in my rear were dotteil bv an occasional dwell-
ino^. The breeze had died awav, anil tin; briirht, full moon
was in the cloudless sky. Many sails were • i the oning,
passinir by and beiuff passed by the Providence and Stonina-
ton steamboats bound to New York. 'J'he scenery around
me, and the loveliness of the sky, with its iralaxy of stars,
caused me to forjjet myself, and I wandered far away upon
the shore — alone, in the awful presence of the great Atlantic
Ocean. No sounds fell upon my ear, save the mullled roar
of the ground swell, and the faint whispers of the tiny waves
as they melted upon the sand. I traced my name, and be-
side it that of another, a being- beauteous, for whose cabinet
of curiosities I gathered many a round, smooth pebble, and
many a delicate sea-shell. I wandered on, now gazing with
wontler and admiration into the cerulean vault of Heaven, or
into the still deeper blue of the mighty sea; ami now sing-
ing with aloud voice one of the sacred songs of the sweet singer
of Israel. Now, a thousand images of surpassing loveliness
darted across my vision, as I thought of Clod — of an eternal
life in heaven — and of love, divine and human; and then
there came a weight upon my spirit, as I remembered the
powers of darkness, the destiny of the condemned, and the
miseries engendered by our evil passions. One moment I
deemed myself immortal, released forever from the contami-

214

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGIENAV.

nnlinir influence of sin, and then I thouirht of the valley of
death, and trembled. Jii that eonimunion witfi the mvsiteries
of the universe, stronji^lv hlended as they were, I felt that I
coidd wander on without fatigue, utitilthe whole earth should
ho trodden hy my pilirrim feet, liut the chilly air and the
fading night warned me to retrace my steps, and in an hour
I had reached my home.

AVhen the sun rose frovi his ocean-bed on the folio winjr
mornini^, surrounded by a magnificent array of clouds, 1 was
up, and busily engafrcd preparing for a day's fishiuLS — first,
and before breakfast, for bluefish, then for bku'ktisli, and
lastly for bass. While my companions were asleep, I went
out with an (tld fish(>rman, and by breakfast time had captured
thirty bluefish, weighing about two pounds a piece. The
manner of catching these is to tow for them with a long line,
the bait being a piece of ivory attached to a strong hook.
They are a very active and powerful fish, and when hooked,
make a great fuss, skipping and leaping out of the water.

At nine o'clock our party were at anchor on a reef about
one mile off, and for the space of about two hours we hauled
in the blacklish as fast as possible, many of them weighing
eight to ten pounds apiece. For them, you must have a small
straight hook, and for bait, lobsters or crabs. A broiled
blackfish, when rightly cooked, is considered one of the best
of salt-water delicacies.

But the rarest of all lishing is that of catching l)ass, and a
first-rate specimen I was permitted to enjoy. About eleven
o'clock, I jumped into the surf-boat of an old lisherman,
requesting him to pull for the best bass ground with which
he was acquainted. In the mean time my friends had ob-
tained a large boat, and were going to follow us. The spot
having been reached, we let our boat float, wherever the
tide and wind impelled it, and began to throw over our lines,
using for bait the skin of an eel six inches long. Those in

BASS FISHING.

215

the neijjliboririij bout bad fine lurk, as tlu'V tbonirbt, liavintr
caiigbt .some tlozon five-pouiulcrs, and tbcy scenu'd to be
perfectly transported becanse nearly an bour bad passed and
I had caiurbt nolbiiiir. In their yflec they raised a tremen-
dous shout, but before it bad I'airlv (Hiul awav, tnv line was
suddenly straightened, and I knew that I had a prize. .Now
it cut the water like a streak ol" liubtnini;, althouiih there
were two hundred f(!et out, and as the fish returned I still
kept it tautrbt ; and after playin<r with him for about forty
minutes, I succeech'd in drownin<r him, then hauled uj) irrailu-
ally, and with mv boat hook landed him in the boat safe and
sound. The length of that striped bass was four feet two
inches, and his weight, before cleaned, fifty-eight pounds.
You can easily imagine the chop-fallen a[)pearance of n\y
brother fishermen, when thev found out that '' the race is

t alwavs to the swift, nor the battle to the stroni

three o'clock in the afternoon, a piece of that lish tenih'd to
gratify the appetite whicli had been excited by his capture.

Satisfied with our })iscatorial sports, we concluded to spend
ihe rest of the day quietly gatheritig shells upon the beach ;
but causes of excitement were still around us. ?So sooner
had we reached the water's edge, than wc discovered a group
of hardy nuMi standinir on a little knoll, in earnest (^onversa.

tion, while some ol tliem wer(> pointing towards the sea

Is th

41 'P

the boat! to the boat!" suddenly shouted their leader, when
they all descended \'ith the speed of Swiss moiiiil;;ineers,
and on reaching a boat which had been made ready, they
pushed her into the surf, and three of them jumped in, and
thus commenced the interesting scene of hauling the seine.
Tliere was something new and romantic to us in the thouirht,
that the keen and intelligent eye of man could even penetrate
into the deep, so far as to designate the course of travel of
the tribes of the sea. And when the seine was drawn, it
was a glorious and thrilling sight to see those fishermen tug-

21G

A TOrU TO THE RIVER SAO IE NAY.

Ill

fr'wrr at tlic liiicH, OF leap into the surf, wliieli soinctiines com-
pl(;t('!y covered thorn, to secure the tens of lliousands of fish
which tliey had caui^lit. Tliere were a grace and heauty
ahout the wliolc scene, which made me h)n«r fur the genius
of a Mount or Edmonds.

A Htllo before sunset, I was again strolling along the shore,
when the following incident occurred. You will please
return wiih me to the spot, bonder, on that fisherman's
stake, a litUc sparrow has just alighted, facing tiie main. It
has been lured away from the green bowers of home by the
music of die sea, and is now gazing, perhaj)S with feelings
kindred to my own, upon this most nuignilic'cnt structure of
the Almighty hand. See! if spreads its wing, and is now
darting towards the water — fearh^ss and free. Ah! it has
gone too near! for the spray moistens its ])lumes! There —
there it goes, frightened back to its native woodland. That
little bird, so far as its power and importance are concerned,
seems to me a fit emblem of the mind of man, and this great
ocean an npj)ropriate symbol of the mind of (iod.

The achievements of the human mind " have iheir passing
paragraplis of praise, and are forgotten." Man may point to
the Pyramids of Egypt, which are the admiration of the world,
and exclaim, " Behold the symbol of my power and import-
ance!" But most impotent is the boast. Those mighty
mysteries stand in the solitude of the desert, and the fflorv of
their destiny is fulfilled in casting a temporary shadow over
the tent of the wandering Arab.

The achievements of the Almighty mind are beyond the
compreliension of man, and lasting as his own eternity. The
spacious firmament, with its suns, and moons, and stars ; our
globe, with its oceans, and mountains, and rivers; the regu-
larly revolving seasons ; and the still, small voice continually
ascending from universal nature, all proclaim the power and
goodness of their great original. And everything which God

[liii

THK STORM.

217

has created, from the nameless insert to the worlil of waters,
wliicli is the hit^hwav of nations, was created for irood, was
created to accomplisli some omnipotent end. As this ocean
is measureless and fathomless, so is it an emblem, beautiful
bnt faint, of that wonderful Heino-, whose throne is above the
milky-way, and who is himself from everlastinir to everlast-
ing. Hut sec, there is a heavy cloud risincr in ijic west, the
breeze is fresheninjr, flocks of wild ducks are llvinir inhind,
and the upper air is riniiinir with the shrill whistle of the
bold and wikl sca-»rull, whose home is the i)oundless sea ;
therefore;, as my dear friend \oblc has somewluM-e written,
" the shortest homeward track's tlie best."

Still in the present tense would I continue. The witchinor
hour of midniahl has airain returned. A cold rain-storm has
just passed over, the moon is airain the mistress of a cloud-
less sky, but the wind is still raging in all its fury.

"I view the ships tliat coirio and go,
Lodkiiii;- so like to livinj; things.
()! 'tis a proud and ^^allant slmw
Ot' l)i"ight and brnad-s])n'ad \vin;_'s,
Making' it hL-'ht around thi'm, a> they keep
Thiir cuurjio right (jnward tiirougli thu un-oundod deep."

na.

God be with them and their brave and jrallant crews. But,
again :

'Where the iav-oil' .-anddijirs Hl'i

Their hael;? in long and narrow hue,
Tlie breakers .-hont. and leaji. and slnl't.

And >{'])t\ the ?-parkhnir brine
Lito the air; tlien rnsli to niiinie strife;
Glail creatures of tlie sea, and luU of life !"" — [bid.

But I must stop quoting poetry, for as " a thing of beauty

218

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAOT'ENAY.

is a joy forever," I .should be lorever writiiiir about the sea.
Heavens ! what a terrible sowr is the oeean sinj^iiijr, with
his lon<^ white hair streaininir in the wind! The wavinjr,
sj)hisliiM(r, wailiiiir, dashinir, howliiifr, rushin<r, riiid nioauing
of tlio waves is a gh)rious luHal))-, and a fit prelude to a dream
of the sea.

At an early hour on the followinj^ (hiy, wo embarked for
home, but a sorry time did we have of it, lor tlie winds were
very lazy. We were ten hours goin*,'' tlie distance of twenty-
two miles. It was now sunset, and we were Ixcalmed ofl'
(Jale's F(,'rry. Ashore wc went, resolved to await the com-
iui^of the SajT Harbor steamboat, whieli usually arrived about
nine o'clock, and by which wc were, finally, taken in tow.
Snugly seated in our boat, and going at the rate of eighteen
miles, we were congratnlating ourselves upon an early arrival
home, and had already begun to divide our lish. But, alas,
at this moment ihe painter broke; the steamer, unconscious
of our fate, still sped onward, while we sheered olT towards
the shore, ((/most disgusted with human life in gonoral — for
our boat was large, and wc had but one oar. Hut wiiat mat-
ter ? We were a jolly set, and the way wc gave ihrce cheers,
as a prelude to tlie song of " Begone Dull Care," must have
been startling to the thousand sleeping echoes of liill, forest,
river and glen.

Having crept along at snails' pace about one mile, we con-
cluded to land, and, if possible, obtain a place to sleep, and
something to eat; for not having had a regular dinner, and
not a mouthful of supper, we were half starved. With clubs
in our hands, to keep ofT hobgoblins and bull-dogs, we
wended our way towards a neighboring farm-house, where
we knocked for admittance. Pretty soon, a great gawky-
looking head stuck itself out of an upper window, to which
we made known our heartfelt desires, receiving, in return, the

THE SPF.CTliK.

219

Ibilowiiiir answer: — " My wilt* is sick — liaiii'l not any l)r('ail
— vou can iH) ill iIk; harii to sleep it' von want to;" and we
turned reliK'tantly away, troubled with a teeliii<r veiy nearly
allied to an<,n'i". "Come, let's oo oil* in this dirrrtion," ex-
claimed one oC the party, "and I'll introduce you to my i>U\
fri(Mui, Captain Soniehody;" — and away we p(t>icd, two hy
two, across a new-mown lii ]d. I'reseiitly, our two leaders
wore awe-siri( ken hv tlur sudikn apj)earance of soinetliini^
white, whi(d» seenud to he rising out of the earili, heside a
cluster oC hushes, and the way they wheeled ahout, and ran
for the river, (accompanied hy (heir t(dK)ws, whose; fVii,dU was
merely sympatljetic,) was " a caution" to all unlxdicvers in
ghosts and other mi(lnii;ht spectres.

At last we halt(Hl to t,^ain a little hreath ; an explanaiion was
made; and our captain forthwith resolved to inrrs/iiCiiff' the
matter, lie now took the lead, and on comiut; to the mys-
terious spot, discovereil an o/t/ hliml iridic IiortiC, who had
been awakened by a noise, and, i'ollowinjr the instinct of his
nature, had risen from his lair, to be better prepared for dan-
crer. I doubt whether the echoes are yet silent, which were
caused by the loud and long peals of laughtiu- which resounded
to the sky. Being in a strange land, without chart or com-
pass, we could not find the mortal dwelling-place of Captain
Somebody, and so we changed our course of travel.

We stopped at another house, firther on, but to save our
lives we could not obtain an interview, although we entered
the hen-coop, and set the hens and roosters a cacdvling and
crowing — the pig-pen, and set the hogs a sciucaling — wliile a
large dog and two puppies did their best to increase and pro-
long tlic mighty chorus. If our farmer friend did not deem
himself transported to Bedlam, about that time, we imagine
that nothing on earth would have the power to give him such
a dream. Our ill-luck made us almost desperate, and so wo

220

A TOrR TO THE RIVER SAGUENAY.

ietiirnod to the boat, resolved to row the whole distanoe home,
could we hut find an extra oar.

It was now eleven o'clock, and the only things that seemed
to smile upon us were the ten thousand stars, studding the
clear, bhic firmament. Anon, a twinkling light beamed upon
our vision; and, as we approaclied, wc found it to proceed
from a little hut on an ishmd, where tlie Tiiames lamplighter
and his boy were accustomed to pass the night, after their
work was done. Having again concluded to land, we re-
ceived a hearty welcome, as the host proved to be an old ac-
quaintance of our captain and mate. " Have you anything
to eat ?" was almost the first question of every tongue. " No.
nothing but this barrel of crackers, and some cheese," ex-
claimed the man of light. " And we," shouted one of our
crew, " have plenty offish, — can't we have a chowder?"
" Ay, ay ; a chowder, a chowder it shall be !" were the words
winch rang aloud to the very heavens. A wlierry was dis-
patched to the main-land, to the well-known habitation of the
old lishennan, for the necessary iron pot and bowls, and for
the potatoes and onions, which were dug for the occasion ;
also for the pork, llie pepper, and salt; all which, added to
our biscuit and black-lish, nicely cleaned and prepared, con-
stituted a chowder of the very first water. There was one
addition to our company, in the person of the old fisherman;
and our appearance, as we were seated in a circle on the
door, each with a bowl of thick hot soup in his hands, con-
stituted a picture rich and rare. After we were dr)ne, it was
acknowledged by all, tliat a better meal had never been en-
joyed by mortal man. In about thirty minutes from this
time, the odd one of the company bade us "good night,"
and the midnight brotherhood resigned diemsclves to sleep.
The last sounds I heard, before closing my eyes, were caused
bv the regular opposition steamboats from New York, as they

HOME.

221

shot ahead almost as " swift as an arrow from a shiverincr
bow."

The first faint streak of daylight found lis on board our
boat, homeward bound, wafted on by a pleasant southerly
breeze. At the usual hour, we were all seated at our respect-
ive breakfast tables, relating our adventures of the excursion
just ended.

CHAP T E 11 XXVI.

A wook ill a fishing siiuick — I'^i-lirrincii — A In ;iuliriil iiinniiniz ;it sea —
A (iiiy at NamiH'kcl — Wreck cii' a ^liip — Niyht on tlii^ Souiul — Safe
arrival

1. 1

"Vt

NonincJi, Conn . J}iii:n^!.

On a ploasant Moii(]:iy niorninir I started from Nnrwioli.
bound to New TiOiidon, and from ihenco to any oiIkm' portion
of iho world where 1 niiirlil liave some sport in the way of
saltwater rishinjr. In less than an liour after landinu from
the steaml)oat, I had boarded the handsome smack Orleans,
Captain Kceney, and by dint of much persuasion, secured a
bertli on board to accompany him on a fishing voyajre. In
addition to my previous preparation, I had only to purchase
a Guernsey shirt and tarpaulin ; and by the time I was regu-
larly equipped, the sails were hoisted, and we were on our
course for Nantucket. An intimate acquaintance was soon
formed between myself and crew, which consisted of the
master, two sailors, and the cook. The whole time that I
spent in their company was six days, as I reached home on
the following Saturday evening. The incidents that I met
with were somewhat new, as a matter of course, and I em-
ployed a few moments of every evening, during my absence,
in briefly recording the events of the past day; and that
medley I now put together as a literary chowder.

SMACK FISHERMEN.

223

Monddii Evpuins:. Mv observations to-dav liavc been
limited to our little vessel, in consequence of a dense fofj,
wbich drencbed us to tlie skin, and seems likely to continue
us in tbis state of preservation. I bave obtained some infor-
mation, bowever, concerning tlie cbaracter of an interesting
class of men, wbicb may be new to you. Smack-fisbermen
are a brave, bardy, bonest, and simple-hearted race, and, as
my captain tells me, spend nine-tentlis of tbeir time " rocked
in tlie cradle of tbc deep." Tbeir vessels, or smacks, are
generally of about forty tons burden; tbe number of tbose
wbicb supply New York and Boston witb fisli is said to be
near a thousand, and they are all at home anywhere on the
coast between tbe Kennebeck and the Delaware. Of tlie perils
whicli tliese fishermen endure, and the privations theysuifcr,
how little is known or tboujrbt by tbe jjreat world at lar<re !
Yet I believe there is as much genuine happiness in their
lives, as in those of any other class. Their fathers were
fishermen before them, and as they themselves bave mostly
been born within bearing of tbe surf, they look upon tbe un-
sounded deep as their fitting home, their only liome, and
would not part with it for a palace or a crown. Four is the
usual number of a smack's crew, and the master is invariably
called a skipper. Most of them are worth}' husbands and
fathers, whose families are snugly harbored in some con-
venient seaport, with enough and to spare of the good things
of life. Tiiey are a jovial set of men, hailing each other
upon the ocean as friends, and meeting upon land as
brothers. Each skipper thinks bis craft the handsomest and
swiftest that fioats, and very exciting arc tbe races they some-
times run. Tbeir afl^ection for their own vessel is like that
of the Arab for his steed, and like the Arab, too, they have
been known even to weep over the grave of tbeir darling
and tbeir pride.

The kinds of fish which they mostly bring to market are

224

A TOl R TO THE RIVER SAGUENAY

' ^l

shad, salmon, lobsters, mackerel, ood, bliicfish, haddock, black-
fish, pantries, bass, and halibut. The first three arc <rrncrally
purchasctl of local iLshermen, but all the rest arc caiii^^ht by
themselves. The haunts of the idacktisli are rocky reefs,
diose of the bass and bluefish in the vicinity of sandy shoals
or tide rips, and those of the remainder in about fifteen
fathoms water. 'J'hese are the varieties they capture by
way of business, but Mdien in a frolicsome mood, they fre-
quently attack a sword-fish, a shark, or black whale ; soul-
thrilling', indeed, and laujrhuble withal, are the yarns they spin
conccrniniT these exploits.

As to their mode of livinfr, while at sea, it is just what it
should be, and what they would have it, althougli it would
be " positively shocking" to a Bond Street gentleman of lei-
sure. I3ut they always possess a good appetite, which is
what money cannot purchase, and without which the greatest
delicacy in the world would be insipid or loathsome. Fish,
sea-biscuit, corn-beef and ])ork, potatoes, onions, and pan-
cakes, constitute their provisions, and what besides these
would a reasonable man desire ? It is with a mixture of
some of these, that a chowder is concocted, and where can
anything' more delicious be found, even at the tables of the
Astor and American ? And with these ingredients, more-
over, they manage very well to keep body and soul together,
unless a storm on a rock-bound coast happens to make a
sudden separation.

I have just been on deck, and must say that I resume my
pen with a heavier heart. The fog has not dispersed in the
least, a regular gale of wind is blowing from the north, and
the waves, seemingly in a revengeful mood, are tossing our
bark about, as if the skipper, like the Ancient Mariner, had
shot another albatros. But like a fearless man, as he is, he
stands at the helm, watching the sails with a steady eye, and
the men with their storm-jackets on are standing by, mutter-

rEAUTIFTL MORXIXG.

225

le
id
Ur
id
lie
id
Ir-

in<T something about the cominf^ darkness, and a reef some-
where on our lee. Never before have I so distinctly uncU'r-
stood the force of the Psahnist's simih% when lie cKmjKires
a wave to a drunken man recjlin^ to and fro. Both have it
in their power to cause a mighty mischii;f, and both become
exhausted and perish, — one upon a sandy beach, and the
other, sweeping over the ])eninsula of time, linds a grave
on the shore of oblivion. Heavens! how the wind whistles,
and the waters roar! Ay, but a still small voice salutes my
ear, and I lay me down to slee]), with a prayer upon my lips,
and a feeling of security at my heart, as I place implicit con-
fidence in Ilim who lioldeth the ocean in the hollow ot' his
hand.

Tuesday Evening. I was awakened out of a deep sleep
this morning by the following salutation from the skipjier, as
he patted me on the shoulder. "It's a beautiful morning,
and you ought to be up; — the fog is gone, and the wind is
down; won't you come up and take the helm awhile, so
that the boys and I may obtain a little sleep before reaching
the fishing-ground, which will be about ten o'clock ?" i was
delighted to accept the invitation, and in a very short time
the sailors were asleep, and I in my new station, j)roiid as a
king, and happy as a sinless boy. And O that I could de-
scribe the scene that fascinated my eyes as I lay there upon
the deck, widi one hand resting on the rudder, and my other
hand grasping a Claude glass! I felt as I once felt before,
when standing on the famous precipice of Niagara, that then,
more than ever, I desired God to be my friend. I also felt,
that, if the world did not demand the feeble services of mv
life, I should wish to remain upon the ocean forever, provided
I could have "one fair being for my minister." More ear-
nestly than ever did I long for a complete mastery of the pic-
torial art. The fact of being out sight of land, where the blue

element announced that the ocean was soundless, filled my
15

220

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGUEXAY.

'-{■■

soul with thai " lone, lost fei'lin<r," which i.s supposed to be
iho caiijc's, when journoyiii<y to the zenith of the sky. The
sun iiad just risen above the waves, and tiic whole eastern
portion of the heavens was Hooded with the most e\'(}uisite
colorintr I ever beheld, — from the deepest (;rinison to the
faintest and most delicate purple, from the darkest yellow to
an almost invisible ^reen; and all blemleil, too, in myriad
forms of marvellous loveliness. A rellection of this scene
was also visible in the remainiiiir quarters of the horizon.
Around me the illimitable deep, whose bosom is studded with
many a gallant and glittering ship,

tlint Ii;ivc tli(> |il;iiii

Or (ii'caii for lliiir own ilomniii.

The waves are lulling themselves to rest, and a balmy
breeze is waiuleriiig by, as if seeking its old grandfather, who
kicked up the grand rumpus last night; whereby I hjarn, that
the olTspring of a " rough and stormy sire," are sometimes
very beautiful and aOectionate to the children of men. But
look! even the dwellers in the sea and of the sea are partici-
pating in the hilarity of this briglit summer morning ! Here,
a school of herring are skipping along like a frolicsome
party of vagal)onds as they are, — and yonder a shark has
leaped out of the water, to display the symmetry of his form
and the largeness of his jaw, and looking as if he thought,
''that land-lubber would make me a lirst rate breakfast;"
there, a lot of porpoises are playing " leap-frog," or some
other outlandish game; and, a little beyond them, a gentle-
man svvord-lish is swaggering along to parts unknown, to
fiirht a duel in cold blood with some equally cold-blooded
native of the AUantic; and now, a flock of gulls are cleaving
their course to the south, to the floating body perhaps of a
drowned mariner, which their sagacity has discovered a league
or two away: — and now, again, I notice a flock of pcrcj^,

COD FISHING.

227

hastcninir onward to whore the winds hh)w ami the wa\ cs arc
wliite. SiU'h arc tlic pictures I heliehl in niv hriel' period ot'
command. It may liave heen hnt fancy, hnt I thonnht my
litth; vessel was trying to cclipsi' her I'ormer Ix^nitv and her
former speed. One thinjif I know, that slie '• walked the
water like a thini,^ of life." 1 fancied, too, that I was the
identical last man whom Camphell saw in his vision, and
that I was then honnd to the haven of eternal rest. l»nt my
shipmates returninii from the land of Sod, and a certain
clamor within uw own hody havinu' caui;ht my ear, I heeamc
convinced that to hreak my fast wonld make \nv ha|)pier liian

lied

anythmi( else just at that time, and I was soon as coiiten
as an alderman at five 1'. M. Ahout two jiours after this, we
reached onr lishiiiir-place, which was twenty miles < ;ist of
Nanturket. \Vt> then lowered the jih and topsail, and having
lulled and fastened the mainsheet, so that the smack could
easily lloat, we hauled out our lim^s and commenced lishinir,
baitiiiiX our hooks with (dams, of whiidi we had some ten
busluds on hoard. Cod lishing (for we were on a cixldi

cruize IS rather du

port ; it is, in (act, w

hat 1

wouhl ca

hard lahor. In six hours we had cauuht

the s

wan

ted,

or that the well won

lioltl, so wi' made sai

upper
anain.

)0uni

I to New York: and at supper-time the deck of our

smack was as (dean and dry as li it had never heen pressci
save by the feet (jf ladies. At sunset, however, a fierce
southerly wind sprang up, so th:;* we were coinpened to
make a harbor; and just as I am closintr this record, we are
anchorinir oil' Nantucket, with a score of storm-beaten whalers
on our starboard bow.

TJ^cdnrsdai/ Evfn'uvj;. The weather to-dav has been ([iiite
threateninu", and the skipper thou<xht ii best to remain at our

mooriniis ; but with

me t!

le (lav has not been devou

1 of

in-

terest; for, in mv sailor irarb, I have been slrollitiir ahout the
town, studviiiiT the ureat and solemn drama of life, while

228

A TOUR TO THE RTVER SAOrEN'AY.

playfully acting a subordinate part myself. 'JMiis morning,
as it happened, I went into the public graveyard, and spent
an hour oonninuf over the rude inscriptions to the memory of
the departed. In tliat city of the dead I saw a number of
the liviuiT walkinir to and fro, but there was one who attracted

y par

ticid

w attention.

e was a sauor, and was se

ated

ipoii

an unmarked mound, with his feet restinir upon a smaller
one beside it, his head reclined upon one hand, while the
otlier was occasionally passed across his face, as if wiping
away a tear. I hailed iiini with a few kind questions, and
my answer was tlie following brief tale : —

" Yes, sir, four years ago I shipped aboard that whaler,
yonder, leaving behind me, in a sweet little cottage of my
own, a mother, a wife, and an only boy. They Mere all in
the enjoyment of good health, and happy; and, when we
were under sail, and I saw from the mast-head how kindly
they waved tlieir handkerchiefs beside my door, I, too, was
happy, even in my hour of grief. Since that time 1 have
circumnavigated the globe, and every rare curiosity 1 could
obtain, was intended for my darlinijc ones at home. Last
Saturday our ship returned, when I lantled, flew to my
dwelling, and found it locked. The flagging in my yard at-
tracted my notice, and I thought it strange that the rank grass
had been sufi'ered to grow over it so thickly. The old minis-
ter passed by my gate, and running to him with extended
hand, I inquired for my fainily. 'Oh, Mr. B.,' said he,
' you must bless the Lord ; — he gave them to you, and he
hath taken them away.' And as the thought stole into my
brain, my sullering, sir, was intense, and I longed to die.
And there they are, my wife and darling child, and, a step or
two beyond, my dear old mother. Peace to their memories !"

Such is the simple story I heard in the Nantucket grave-
yard, and I have pondered much upon the world of woe

SAILOR LIFE.

229

which must liave been hiddoii in the breast of that okl ma-
riner.

After dinner to-day, I strolled into tlie company of some
fishermen who were going after bass and bhiefish, and in a
short time I had captured, with my own hands, two big bass
and some dozen bhicfisli — which I packed in ice as a present
to some New York friends.

At my present time of writing, wliich is near ten o'clock
at niglit, we are weigliing anchor, and the skipper tells me
we shall be in New York by to-morrow's sunset. An hour
before coming on board this evening, I lounged into a sailor
boarding-house, and mingled as freely with a company of
whalemen there, as if I had ever been a bond fide member
of the craft. I heard a great deal that interested me, and
was sorry that I could not remain longer. There were some
in that company lately arrived from every portion of the
world, and yet they were engaged in the same business, and
had journeyed on the same mighty highway of nations.
One was descanting upon the coral islands of the torrid
zone; another upon the ice-mountains of the Arctic Sea; a
third was describing the coast of California; and another the
waters that lave the eastern shore of Asia. The more I
listened to these men, the more did the immensity of ocean
expand before my mind, and in the same proportion was I
led to wonder at the wisdom of the Almighty.

I have just been on deck, and find that we are on the way
to our desired haven, wafted by a steady and pleasant breeze.
Our course is between Martha's Vineyard and Rhode Island,
which is a route studded with islands and seaports, that now
appear in the cool starlight like the pictures of a dream.

Thursday Eveniui:. Instead of coming tlirough the
Sound last night, we headed our vessel outside of Long Is-
land, and after a deliglitful sail, have realized our skipper's
promise, for we are now floating beside the market in New

230

A TOUR TO THE RIVER SAGTEXAY.

York. Tlio reason rissiiriunl for lakinir tlic outsido course
was, thai iIm^ lish would keep hotter, on acrount of the uroater
coldness of the water. jN'otliinfr of peculiar interc-t has
ha])pcned to us to-day, cx(!ept the nieetinj^ with a wreck off
Sandy J look. It was tli(3 hull of a lari^o ship, wlu)S(! name
we coidd not discern. It had a very old aj)pearance, and
from the moss and sea-weed that covered it, we supposed it
must have heeu alloat for many niontlis, the jilaytliiuii" of the
waves. "Man marks the earth witji ruin," hut who is it
that scatters siu'h splendid ruins upon the ocean .' And a
thousand remorseless surges echo hack the answer: ''Tons
belong the i,d()ry of those deeds." If that wreck had lan-
gua<re, what a slranire, eventful history would it reveal ! Its
themes would he, — home and all its treasures lost ; the sea,
and all its dauLTors ; the soul, and all its aijonies; the lieart,
and all its suHeriuirs. Hut when we multiply all this as fast
as time is muhiplyinij" it, we cannot hut realize the idea, that
human life is hut a prohationary state, and that sorrow and
sighiuiT' are our earthly inheritance.

Frlihtij Ecminp!;. After portioning out my fish this morn-
ing, and sending them to my friends, I put on my usual dress,
and having obtained a six hours' furlough, set oil' towards
Broadway, where, l)etween the reading rooms and ihe studios
of a few artists, I managed to spend my time quite pleasantly.
At noon, we embarked for home, and had a delightful lime,
passing through the East River, and that pleasing jianorama
from the city to the Sound never appeared more beautiful.

It is now quite late, and I have been on deck all the even-
ing alone. In a thoughtful mood I fixed my eyes upon the
stars, and my spirits were saddened by the continual murmur
of the sea. Of what avail, thought I, is all this excitement ?
Why was I created, and what, what is my destiny ? Is it to
sail for a few brief years longer upon the ocean of life, and,
when the death-tempest overtakes me, to pass away unloved

W»iv^_

THK KM>.

231

and u I ire HUM 111) ere (1 l)V a siiiL'^le k\\, firrut ? U' not an

honored name, can I not leavi' behind i •' at i<ii«l'''f memory
lluil will be elifrishcd by a few, a V( ry ( w , to \ .om 1 have
laid bare my innermost soul, when I wa- yoimr' th:<ilrt ' iiii
now and a iHiiidred-lold nnjre happy ' What ! O night! >> jiat
IS my destiny .'

Sttfui'ilmj Ih'cnins^. We anchored oil' \ew FiOndou to-
day, in time lor me to take the evcninii steamer lor Norwich.
Wh(!n I parted with my " shipmates," I shook each om; af-
fectionately by the hand, and thoniiht that I miirht travel
many years without lindini( a brotherhood of nobler nu*n.
I reached home as the eiiiht o'clock bells were rin<nnir, and
was reminded that another week of precious time was for-
ever gone. That it must be remembered as an unprofitable
one, I cannot believe, for 1 feel that my soul has i»ecii enlarged
and my heart humbled, by listening to the teachings of the
mighty deep.

TH f:

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- "JT'^iJIWfif.'Ji-'T

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