r-NRLF 
 
 B 3 3E2 SSfi 
 
 
j 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
tp 
 
 WHITTLINGS 
 FROM THE WEST: 
 
 
 WITH SOME ACCOUNT OP 
 
 BUTTERNUT CASTLE, 
 
 ABEL L"OG - 
 
 ' Laugh at all things, 
 Great and small things, 
 Sick or well, on sea or shore." 
 
 EDINBURGH: JAMES HOGG. 
 LONDON: R. GROOMBRIDGE & SONS. 
 
 MDCCCLIV. 
 
EDINBURGH: PRINTED BY j. HOGG. 
 
 V 
 
in 
 
 of t\t |nstntdor, 
 
 THIS WORK IS INSCRIBED 
 
 ABEL LOG. 
 

PROLOGUE. 
 
 TO THE READER. 
 
 To pen a story, or sketch of travel, for a magazine, is one thing; to write 
 a work for publication by itself, is another. In the former case, your 
 paper appears among several others, and, like a bad shilling between two 
 good crown-pieces, nothing more may b heard of it; in the latter, your 
 book has to stand upon its individual merits and the author may never 
 hear the last of it. 
 
 Here is a book containing some sketches of travel which originally ap- 
 peared in the pages of HOGG'S INSTRUCTOR. They were hastily written; 
 and when I learned, a little time since, that it was the Proprietor's in- 
 tention to publish them in a volume, I immediately set to work, blotting 
 out, re-writing, and revising, to the very best of my abilities; but 
 soon discovered that it was a much easier thing to write a new story, 
 than to patch up an old one, and the consequence is, that, although I 
 have done my utmost to make the WHITTLINGS worthy of your perusal, 
 they still fall considerably short of what I wished to see them before 
 they were submitted to you in their present form. 
 
 Should any curious person feel moved to inquire whether, in rendering 
 this account of my peregrinations, I have in the slightest degree availed 
 
yi PROLOGUE. 
 
 myself of the usual traveller's license, I can only say, that, what with 
 penning down, copying out, revising, and examining proofs, I have the 
 whole narrative by heart, and most scrupulously believe every word of it. 
 
 ABEL LOG. 
 
 IVYNOOK, September 1854. 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 I should perhaps explain, that I gave these papers the name of 
 Whittlings in allusion to a rather droll propensity which has been laid 
 at the door of our kind and hospitable friends in the West; viz., that of 
 inflicting, with their clasp-knives, during conversation, certain deep 
 notches, and fancy devices, upon any chairs, tables, mantelpieces, book- 
 shelves, sideboards, writing-desks, piano-legs, and all kinds of furniture 
 to which at the moment they may happen to be contiguous; but I must 
 confess that I have met with vary few instances of the kind, and those 
 only among the lower orders of society. 
 
 By WHITTLINGS, then, are, if you please, to be understood the Chips, 
 or Shavings (carefully swept up, put into bags, numbered, and sent over 
 for your distinguished inspection), gleaned from that decorative pro- 
 cess to which such chairs, tables, mantelpieces, book-shelves, sideboards, 
 writing-desks, piano-legs, and all kinds of furniture aforesaid, may have 
 thus from time to time been subjected. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST, 
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 Page 126, line 4, for " morning air," read " morning airing." 
 . .'. 1 46, ... 1 3, for " secret himself," read " secrete himself." 
 . . . 259, ... 27, for " fit state of a murderer and bully," read " fit fate 
 
 of a murderer and bully." 
 ... 263, ... 32, for "over the bison prairies," read "upon the bison 
 
 prairies." 
 
 ... 371, ... 18, for " and the persons," read " and the Shakers." 
 . . . 424, ... 17, for" threw himself suddenly back," read " threw him- 
 self back." 
 
 belaying-pin ; the chief mate, Mr Tongs, was poising his per- 
 son upon the heel of the bowsprit, and issuing a variety of 
 very vociferous orders, to which no one appeared to be paying 
 the slightest attention; the second mate, Mr Major, was ropes- 
 ending a thin boy an operation that officer was pleased face- 
 tiously to term "sweetening him up;" and four or five of the 
 stoutest of the crew were in the act of hoisting the maintop- 
 sail, and timing their labours to a popular nautical ditty, the 
 words of which (though particularly select and striking) I un- 
 fortunately neglected to commit to paper. To the best of my 
 recollection, however, they ran as follows : 
 
 " Now-you-bad-sing-ers yeo-yeo-yeo-heave-ho, 
 You-are-no-good-here I-know-ow-aw-ow; 
 Bowse-'em-up-there-boys sing-pul-ly-hoi-ho, 
 Cheer-ly-men-cheer-ly heave-cheer ly-yeo-ho." 
 
 I recollect, too, that the melody came to a premature close ; a 
 
 A 
 
vi PROLOGUE. 
 
 myself of the usual traveller's license, I can only say, that, what with 
 penning down, copying out, revising, and examining proofs, I have the 
 whole narrative by heart, and most scrupulously believe every word of it. 
 
 ABEL LOG. 
 
 IVYNOOK, September 1854. 
 
 POSTSCRIPT 
 
 or Shavings (carefully swept up, put into bags, numbered, and sent over 
 for your distinguished inspection), gleaned from that decorative pro- 
 cess to which such chairs, tables, mantelpieces, book-shelves, sideboards, 
 writing-desks, piano-legs, and all kinds of furniture aforesaid, may have 
 thus from time to time been subjected. 
 
WIIITTLINGS FROM THE WEST, 
 
 HEAP THE FIRST. 
 
 THE GOLIGHTLY, Captain Tophamper, for QUEBEC and MON- 
 TREAL; 320 tons per register, and A 1 at Lloyd's. One gun, 
 fourteen men and a-half. 
 
 Such was the name, and such were the character and des- 
 tination, of the handsome and symmetrical little brig upon 
 whose white quarterdeck I found myself standing, early on 
 the morning of the memorable first of April, one thousand 
 eight hundred and forty- six. The captain an^ supercargo 
 had gone below: the pilot was sitting upon the combings of 
 the after-hatchway, smoking a cigar the size of an ordinary 
 belaying-pin ; the chief mate, Mr Tongs, was poising his per- 
 son upon the heel of the bowsprit, and issuing a variety of 
 very vociferous orders, to which no one appeared to be paying 
 the slightest attention; the second mate, Mr Major, was ropes- 
 ending a thin boy an operation that officer was pleased face- 
 tiously to term "sweetening him up;" and four or five of the 
 stoutest of the crew were in the act of hoisting the maintop- 
 sail, and timing their labours to a popular nautical ditty, the 
 words of which (though particularly select and striking) I un- 
 fortunately neglected to commit to paper. To the best of my 
 recollection, however, they ran as follows : 
 
 ' ' N o w-y ou-bad-sing-ers y eo-yeo-yeo-heave-ho, 
 You-are-no-good-here I-know-ow-aw-ow; 
 Bowse-' em-up-tkere-boys sing-pul-ly-hoi-ho, 
 Ckeer-ly-men-cheer-ly heave-cheer ly-yeo-ko." 
 
 I recollect, too, that the melody came to a premature close ; a 
 
 A 
 
2 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 large block, through which some clumsy hand aloft was reev- 
 ing a rope, having fallen upon the head of the principal singer, 
 a fine young tar with ringlets, who rubbed the wounded por- 
 tion of his cranium violently, and swore in a most shocking 
 manner. 
 
 "Boat waiting alongside, sar," said the black steward, Mr 
 Caleb Chin, as he passed me with a tureen of soup, on his 
 way to the cook's galley. 
 
 "Boat waiting? what for?" said I, looking indignantly over 
 the vessel's quarter. 
 
 "Anything the matter, sir?" asked Mr Tongs, raising his 
 cap gracefully. "Oh, I understand; it is an old story. This 
 rascal agreed to put you on board for half-a-crown, I suppose." 
 
 " Yes; and as it was a long pull, I gave him five shillings." 
 
 " Very good. Any one for shore ? No. Cast off there." 
 
 The waterman still held on with his hook. 
 
 " What do you want, my good fellow?" said Tongs, smiling 
 hideously. 
 
 " Another crown, your honour," was the reply. 
 
 " Hold on a bit, then," said the mate, running away for a 
 moment, and then re- appearing with a two-and-thirty pound 
 shot in his arms " Here, you needn't mind the change take 
 care of your toes ah! I thought you wouldn't wait for it;" 
 and, having arranged the difficulty, Mr Tongs bowled the 
 heavy iron mass back to the spot from which he had taken it, 
 and returned to abuse two or three of the seamen who were 
 paying out some rope in the forecastle. 
 
 " You may as well hoist that foresail," said the surly pilot, 
 taking the cigar from his mouth, and eyeing it affectionately. 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir," responded Mr Major, issuing the necessary 
 commands. 
 
 " And the jib," added the pilot, gruffly. 
 
 The order was obeyed with alacrity. 
 
 "And I don't care if you shake out that foretopsail; there's 
 a bit of a breeze springing up." 
 
 " Away aloft, two or three of you, and set that foretopsail," 
 cried Mr Major, in his loudest key. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 3 
 
 " And brace up that foreyard there," continued the sour 
 pilot; " it's swinging about like a barber's pole." 
 
 Mr Major, who was an old man-of-war's-man, and had seen 
 service, growled a disapproval of this reflection upon his sea- 
 manship, and executed the order with his own hands. 
 
 At this moment Captain Tophamper came upon deck, and 
 welcomed me cordially. He was a middle-aged, weatherbeaten- 
 looking man, with a good-humoured face, a frank blue eye, 
 and a profusion of picturesque curly auburn hair. He intro- 
 duced me to the supercargo, Mr O'Toole, a handsome young 
 Irishman, with a florid complexion and excellent teeth; and 
 we all three went below to breakfast. 
 
 " Are you a good sailor, sir?" asked the supercargo, with 
 an engaging smile. 
 
 " Very at least I think so." Here the captain and mate 
 (for the latter had just joined us) exchanged a look a sly 
 look, which said a great deal. 
 
 " Let me assist you to some more beef," said the skipper, 
 turning to me; "the fresh breeze should give you an appetite. 
 Should it not, Tongs?" 
 
 Tongs said it should, and, wishing to set a good example, 
 suffered his own plate to be replenished. The bustle on deck 
 began now in some measure to subside, and the fitful plash of 
 the waves against the sides of the vessel to whisper of bluster- 
 ing winds and blue sea-water. 
 
 " We shall be a nice, snug, agreeable party," said Captain 
 Tophamper, rubbing his hands, and attacking a bottle of 
 pickled onions. " Our last voyage was not a pleasant one, 
 for we had an old gentleman on board, who did nothing but 
 drink brandy and water, and play the violoncello; and a young 
 lady, poor thing! with an infant in arms. It was her first 
 trip to sea, and she was too ill to take care of herself much 
 more of the child." 
 
 "How did you manage with them, then?" asked the 
 supercargo. 
 
 " It would not be civil to anybody but the carpenter," said 
 Captain Tophamper, " so we made him nurse it. You can't 
 
4 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 conceive the trouble we had with that infant. One day Mr 
 Chips was wanted in a hurry. It was blowing a gale, and we 
 had sprung our foreto'gallant mast, so all hands had to fall to 
 work and rig another. l Where's the carpenter?' said I. 
 
 " ' Feeding the babby, sir/ was the reply. 
 
 " * Feeding the babby ! drown the babby ! Send him here.' 
 
 " ' I can't, sir; the child won't let him come.' 
 
 " ' Tell him to bring it with him, then,' thundered I, almost 
 choked with rage; and presently, sure enough, up came Mr 
 Chips with the infant tucked under one arm as though it 
 had been an umbrella, or a marlinespike." 
 
 " A very awkward encumbrance, upon my word," said Mr 
 O'Toole. 
 
 Captain Tophamper nodded. 
 
 " At last the child became so attached to him that he was not 
 able to stir a yard without it; so, as Mr Chips was but a bad 
 nurse, he used to carry the little bald chap about in one of the 
 ship's paint-pots, and set it beside him wherever he wasat work." 
 
 " Wind's drawing aft a little, sir," said the second mate, 
 putting his head into the cabin. Mr Major was not called 
 upon to furnish this piece of intelligence, but he thought that 
 Tongs had been quite long enough at the breakfast-table, and 
 he was anxious to get there himself. 
 
 " Very well, I shall be on deck presently," responded Captain 
 Tophamper; and he was as good as his word. Mr O'Toole 
 and I accompanied him. 
 
 The shores of England were fast lessening in the distance; 
 the sky was no longer blue; the waves no longer glittered in 
 the sunlight; and, in spite of the novelty of my situation and 
 prospects, I began to labour under that disagreeable heaviness 
 of heart and depression of spirit which are inseparable from 
 the last look one bends upon his native land. Perchance, too, 
 my features were in some degree indicative of the state of my 
 feelings, as the mate presently walked aft, and asked if I were 
 ill. I replied with scorn that I was not that I had seldom 
 felt better. He saw that I was not conversationally disposed, 
 and, going hastily away, abused some of the tars in no measured 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM: THE WEST. 5 
 
 terms, and assured them, that, as they would find him a pretty 
 taut hand, it would be well if they took care what they were 
 about; whereupon the pilot said he was glad to see they had 
 got a lad of spirit among them, and lighted a fresh cigar. 
 
 On returning below, I found the skipper alone, with three 
 decanters before him. Mr O'Toole had retired to his " state- 
 room." Captain Tophamper shook his head in a melancholy 
 manner, and invited me to sit down; observing,, that it was his 
 invariable custom on leaving port to dedicate one bottle to his 
 absent wife, and another to each of his two children. " I 
 brought Betsy to sea with me once," said Captain Tophamper, 
 " but the dear creature was ill the whole voyage, and always 
 fancying we were going down. She would make me sit by her 
 side, and take my hand, and say, ' Now, my love, we are going, 
 and it's all over farewell, George!' It was more than my 
 feelings could stand, Mr Abel, and I have never ventured to 
 bring Betsy with me since." 
 
 Towards evening the breeze freshened almost into a gale, 
 and the quicksilver in the barometer fell rapidly. Mr O'Toole 
 was walking the deck stoutly. He Had eaten very little dinner, 
 and his lips were white. I saw the captain exchange another 
 of those sly looks with the mate, and was on the eve of 
 demanding an explanation, but forbore. Soon afterwards the 
 spray began to dash over the brig's bows, and her deck to 
 grow slippery and slanting. I glanced again at Mr O'Toole. 
 He was standing upon one leg, and looking as though he would 
 gladly have exchanged all his worldly wealth for some con- 
 venient spot on which he might deposit the other. The next 
 minute he was upon his back. The wind now blew (as I 
 thought) a perfect hurricane, and the Golightly laboured 
 heavily. The mainroyal was furled, a reef taken in the fore- 
 topsail, and the foretopmast-staysail set. I hooked one arm in 
 the shrouds, and the other round a belaying-pin. The captain 
 advised me to go below, but I declined. The supercargo, 
 being less refractory, suffered the black steward, Mr Caleb 
 Chin, to lead him to the companion ; and the vessel giving an 
 alarming pitch at the moment, they were both precipitated 
 
6 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 down the ladder together. I saw nothing more of Mr O'Toole 
 until the next day. 
 
 "How do you like the motion, sir?" inquired Captain 
 Tophamper, steadying himself with a great effort, and clapping 
 both hands suddenly to his sou'wester, which a frolicsome puff 
 of wind had snatched from his head. 
 
 " It is exceedingly pleasant," said I, with a spasm ; " very 
 delightful indeed." 
 
 " Had you not better go below ? it will blow a little towards 
 night." 
 
 " Blow a little ! is it not blowing now ?" 
 
 " 0, this is a mere cat's-paw. Ah, take care!" The Go- 
 lightly, as he spoke, gave a frightful roll, and I saw- my legs 
 sticking straight out upon a level with the horizon. I clung 
 with all my might to the two belay ing- pins, and Captain Top- 
 hamper laughed till the tears ran down his face. 
 
 " That is just the way I was taken once when a youngster," 
 cried he, as soon as his merriment would suffer him to speak; 
 " but you are more fortunate than I was, for the wind, which 
 was pretty high, blew my boots off a pair of Wellingtons, 
 worth a couple of guineas. You will get your sea-legs in a 
 day or two." 
 
 " I hope so," said I, as the vessel righted. 
 
 "Is she falling off at all?" asked the captain of Mr 
 Tongs, who guessed what was the matter, and strove to look 
 demure. 
 
 " Half a point or so ; I am afraid the wind's going to chop 
 round to the west. It looks rather ugly there to leeward." 
 
 " You think we shall have a squally night, do you?" said I, 
 endeavouring to appear unconcerned. 
 
 " Well, it's not altogether unlikely," observed the mate, 
 turning his head away, and coughing. Happening to look 
 round, I saw three or four of the crew sitting on the fore- 
 hatchway with their hands to their sides. I heard the black 
 steward chuckle, too, as he put his head up the companion to 
 examine into the state of the weather. I felt annoyed, and 
 began to wonder whether I looked at all white. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 7 
 
 " What is the matter with Captain Tophamper?" inquired 
 I of Tongs ; " he has lost his colour." 
 
 " He is always a little poorly when we first put to sea," said 
 the mate, confidentially; " but you mustn't let him know that 
 I told you. And there's that Welsh apprentice asking his 
 messmates to heave him overboard." 
 
 "I am very glad Captain Tophamper is sick," I said; and 
 a sudden dizziness having seized me, I released the two belay- 
 ing-pins, and made an effort to reach the companion, but found 
 myself between the legs of the man at the wheel. My next 
 attempt was more successful. I managed to gain the first step 
 of the ladder, and a second and then the brig gave another 
 pitch, and I lay upon my face under the cabin table. 
 
 "Are you hurt, sir?" asked Mr Chin, assisting me to my 
 feet. 
 
 " I don't know ; which are my quarters, steward ? " 
 
 Mr Chin opened a door, and taking my arm, led me into a 
 dark apartment about four feet square a sort of bin. 
 
 " What is this ? " said I. 
 
 " Your state-room, sir." 
 
 " Where am I to sleep 1 " 
 
 The steward pointed to a black hole above us, and then 
 retired, coughing in a most suspicious manner. 
 
 It was not a season for soliloquy ; my head ached violently, 
 and, after a series of prodigious struggles, I contrived at length 
 to deposit myself in the berth. There were several rats in it, 
 but they scampered away in great haste, and left me in undis- 
 puted possession of my new territory. 
 
 " And this is what they call a berth," said I, with a sort of 
 groan. 
 
 " Ay, there only wants a few nails and a lid to make it a 
 coffin," replied a voice close to my ear. " I wish I could doze." 
 
 " Is that Mr O'Toole?" said I. 
 
 " It's all that's left of him," was the response. " I'm being 
 eaten by inches. How long have we been at sea?" 
 
 " About twelve hours, I believe." 
 
 " And it seems twelve days. Have you been ill?" 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 "No; have you?" 
 
 " No; good- night." 
 
 "Good-night!" and, like two babies of an elder growth, 
 we were rocked by the billows to sleep. 
 
 I did not sleep long, however; the novelty of my situation, 
 the groaning of the vessel's timbers, the splash and thump of 
 the waves against her sides, the howling of the wind, the flap- 
 ping of the sails, the hubbub of angry voices, and the incessant 
 tramp of feet upon the deck above me, did not by any means 
 conduce to slumber, and, like Childe Harold, towards midnight 
 I " awakened with a start." The brig was pitching fearfully, 
 and, every time she pitched, my head came into violent contact 
 with a beam that ran along the upper part of my berth. There 
 was a large cavity, too, close to my ear, which appeared to have 
 an immediate communication with the sea, and through this a 
 continuous stream of cold air, interspersed with an occasional 
 splash of salt water, was poured upon my cheek. My patience 
 was not proof against such a combination of grievances, and 
 springing savagely from the dark hole in which I had lain im- 
 mured, I threw open my state-room door. It was a singular 
 coincidence that Mr O'Toole, worked up into a similar state of 
 frenzy, should just have done likewise. 
 
 The captain and mate were sitting at the cabin table, poring 
 Over a chart by the sickly light of a very dim oil lamp. They 
 both looked up suddenly. 
 
 "Is anything the matter, gentlemen?" inquired Captain 
 Tophamper, putting down his compasses. 
 
 "Matter!" said I, snappishly; "is it nothing to have one's 
 head thumped for four consecutive hours against a beam ?" 
 
 " And be gobbled by rats into the bargain ! " cried Mr 
 O'Toole, holding up one of his legs, and exhibiting a boot 
 which was minus the upper leather. " Look here !" 
 
 Captain Tophamper was about to make some appropriate 
 reply, when his gravity gave way, and throwing himself back 
 in his chair, he burst into a fit of laughter that might have 
 been heard in the forecastle. The mate was not backward in 
 reciprocating the skipper's merriment, and a suppressed cachin- 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 9 
 
 nation issuing from the steward's pantry, convinced me that 
 Mr Chin also duly appreciated the humours of this nocturnal 
 conversazione. Very much disgusted with the captain and 
 mate, therefore, and vexed with ourselves for having appealed 
 to their sympathies, Mr O'Toole and I rushed back to our 
 respective state-rooms, slammed the doors with much violence, 
 and resolved to brood over our griefs in private. And with 
 the view of alleviating the unpleasantness of my situation, I 
 tagged together the following rhymes, intended for transmis- 
 sion to a friend who had requested me to favour him with a 
 few of my early nautical experiences : 
 
 <e Im afloat, I'm afloat " that is all I can say, 
 
 For our skipper himself has been poorly to-day; 
 
 Ay, and some of his tars, for 'twould make the best man ill, 
 
 This knocking about in the " chops " of the channel. 
 
 Barry Cornwall was right, when he sang of the sea, 
 
 And call'd it the " blue," and the " fresh," and the " free; " 
 
 Fresh enough and a vast deal more free than polite 
 
 So he'd say did he swing in my hammock to-night. 
 
 I'm bethinking me now, too, with no little glee, 
 Could a few of those heroes who rave of the sea, 
 And sigh for the life, as I've heard two or three, 
 
 Of a young buccaneer and all that sort of thing 
 Be afloat here an hour, in a rather small skiff, 
 When the night's rather dark, and the wind rather stiff, 
 
 What a different tune they would all of them sing! 
 
 I wish I could give you some sort of a notion 
 Of the treatment one gets from this amiable ocean. 
 First our ship (and it gives one a horrible turn) 
 Sits, like a young rabbit, bolt up on her stern; 
 Then (a motion of which I am not very fond) 
 Takes a dive down head first, like a duck in a pond; 
 Next, like two grim old dowagers spooning their tea, 
 Dip dip go her yard-arms down into the sea, 
 
 And stir up its depths till they sparkle and smoke; 
 Then she makes such a leap that you'd almost suppose 
 
 Three or four strapping waves, which are all in the joke, 
 Have been laying her "backs," and, as over she goes, 
 Give her each, just by way of enhancing the fun, 
 A good slap on the bows, crying, " Bravo! well done!" 
 
 How often in fancy again I live o'er 
 
 Happy hours that are past, and life cannot restore ! 
 
10 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 Let others look forward, too blest if they find 
 
 A joy such as those they are leaving behind; 
 
 One hour of delight that has long taken wing 
 
 Were worth years of such bliss as the future can bring. 
 
 A few minutes since I was roving with you, 
 
 Through those fields where at twilight we often would stray, 
 Talking over old pleasures, or sighing for new, 
 
 And forgetting the gloom and the cares of the day; 
 The hedges were budding, the trees were in bloom, 
 And the hawthorn shed round a delicious perfume, 
 "While the primrose and daisy were languishing nigh 
 With their calm, dewy faces fix'd on the blue sky, 
 As if though the simplest of flowers they knew 
 That a God was above, and they worshipp'd him too ! 
 
 It was only a dream I awake, and again 
 I am tossing about on the treacherous main; 
 Seven bells ! 'tis the dead of the stormiest night, 
 I just catch a faint glimpse of the binnacle light; 
 Hark, the tramp upon deck, and the flap of the sail,' 
 And the rush of the waves, and the roar of the gale ! 
 
 HEAP THE SECOND. 
 
 Day had broken, a faint streak of grey light streamed down 
 from the bull's eye above me, and an agreeable savour of coffee 
 and broiled ham stole through the keyhole of my state-room 
 door. I sprang from my berth, dressed myself hastily, and 
 M r eut on deck. The morning was fine, clear, and crisp; the 
 waves were the colour of indigo; and there was not a cloud 
 visible. The wind was on our larboard quarter, and we were 
 what Captain Tophamper termed " walking along" at the rate 
 of about seven knots an hour. The pilot had just left us, and 
 I saw his little eggshell of a boat skipping merrily over the 
 billows in the distance, like a rabbit over a furrow. 
 
 " Is it not beautiful?" said Mr O'Toole, taking my arm in a 
 friendly way for the brig was pitching most provokingly. He 
 told me that he had not been at all poorly the evening before, 
 and only went below for the purpose of arranging the contents 
 of his chest (Query: did he mean stomach?). He observed 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 11 
 
 that I looked extremely white about the lips, and I informed 
 him, confidentially, that I feared he was going to be ill again. 
 He said, " Do you think so?" and retired to the cabin instantly 
 I presume to complete the arrangement of the chest aforesaid. 
 
 The skipper and mate were in excellent spirits, as most 
 skippers and mates are when the wind is in a favourable quarter, 
 and things go on well. We all three paced the deck together 
 for some minutes, and then, Captain Tophamper going below, 
 I was left with Mr Tongs. 
 
 " You won't find Major at all a nice fellow," said the mate, 
 " and I wouldn't advise you to take any notice of him." 
 
 "Ah! indeed," said I. 
 
 ** If there is any question you want to ask, or any little thing 
 you want done, come to me don't go to him," said Tongs. 
 
 "Humph," said I. 
 
 " He's no sailor," pursued Tongs. 
 
 " What! and an old raan-of-war's-man, too!" 
 
 The mate sneered in a most forbidding manner. " You 
 won't forget, will you?" said he. I promised that I would 
 not and read, and paced the deck^until dinner-time. 
 
 " Capital breeze, if it only holds," said Captain Tophamper, 
 as the vessel gave a roll, and the bread-basket was precipitated 
 into my lap. " Try a little of the lobscouse, Mr O'Toole; it is 
 the finest thing in the world for a delicate stomach. Mr Log, 
 I should recommend you some of that sea-pie a regular three- 
 decker by the look of it. I generally patronise the beef so 
 does Tongs. By the by, I have not told you that tale about the 
 beef have I?" 
 
 "No; pray relate it," said Mr O'Toole and I in a breath. 
 
 " During one of our late voyages home, we had the misfor- 
 tune, in consequence of our having encountered severe head 
 winds, to run short of provisions. We had been a week or 
 more in this famished condition, when one day a sail hove in 
 sight. We showed signals of distress, and she backed her 
 mairitopsail for a speak. 
 
 " ' Schooner, ahoy !' 
 
 " * Hallo ! what's the matter, shipmate ?' cried a little fellow 
 
12 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 with a trumpet ; * we haven't got any sticks to spare, if that's 
 what you want.' 
 
 "'Never mind the sticks,' said I; 'can you let us have a 
 barrel of beef ? ' 
 
 "He thought a second or two, then laughed, tucked the 
 trumpet under his arm, and desired us to send a boat. We 
 heard a sudden noise and scuffle, saw three or four of his hands 
 gather in a group, and wondered what it meant. The beef, 
 however, was soon forthcoming; we hauled it up the side, and 
 the schooner filled away again with a promptness that rather 
 surprised us. 
 
 " * A roguish-looking craft that, to say the best of her,' said 
 I, as the barrel was rolled along the deck. * Knock out the 
 head, steward, and let us overhaul the contents. Hark ! what 
 was that? Did you cough?' 
 
 " ' No,' said Mr Chin. 
 
 " * Then you did,' said I to Tongs. 
 
 " ' No, I didn't/ replied Tongs. 
 
 " * Well, somebody did, that's all,' said I. ' There, again ! 
 it was you, steward.' 
 
 " ' No, it wasn't,' cried Chin, stoutly, as he opened the barrel, 
 and looked into it. Several of the crew had crowded round 
 with hungry faces, but the moment they had caught a glimpse 
 of the contents, they all retreated hastily. 
 
 " ' A man !' exclaimed half a dozen voices. 
 
 " ' In pickle, I suppose,' said Chin, raising his hammer, and 
 giving something that looked like a human head a smart tap 
 with it. * No he's alive !' 
 
 " ' This is a serious affair,' said I. ' Who are you, sir ? 
 What's your name ?' 
 
 " * Prime mess beef,' was the reply. 
 
 " ' Ay, and as such we'll eat you, depend upon it,' cried I, in 
 a rage; ' he thinks to make fools of us.' 
 
 " ' No, don't,' whined the man in the barrel; 'if you'll only 
 let me out, I'll keep sober in future, and not flog anybody, nor 
 put them in irons. I will be good I will indeed.' 
 
 " ' Aha ! I see how the land lies now. Very well, walk for- 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 13 
 
 ward, if you please, and we'll make a foremast man of you ; and 
 if I hear any complaints, if we don't eat you, my name's not 
 Tophamper!'" 
 
 " Ay, and a smarter seaman never trod a plank," remarked 
 Tongs, as the captain finished his tale. Upon the delivery of 
 which sentiment, the mate went on deck, and the vacant chair 
 was immediately filled by Mr Major, who had a prodigious ap- 
 petite, and a strong predilection for pickled onions. 
 
 In this lively and agreeable manner passed the first, second, 
 and part of the third day of my " nautical existence." Nothing 
 had yet occurred to ruffle the placidity of the captain : the wind 
 was fair, the vessel in capital sailing trim, the men well-behaved, 
 the wine and provisions were of the best, and the passengers 
 (as the mate privately told us) quite gentlemen after the skip- 
 per's own heart. Moreover we had now lost sight of Cape 
 Clear were upon the bosom of the broad Atlantic and fairly 
 at sea. 
 
 But a "life on the ocean wave," like life on shore, and, in- 
 deed, like most other things in this world, has its dark side as 
 well as its bright one, and we had now to experience this 
 gloomy truth. In the evening, about sunset, the wind, as Mr 
 Tongs had predicted, chopped round to within a point or so of 
 due west, and our troubles commenced. From that moment 
 everything went wrong. The brig had to be put about ; the 
 spray flew over us in torrents; the captain swore; the mate 
 bullied; Mr O'Toole was sick; Mr Log slightly ditto; one of 
 the men fell overboard, and was caught by the nether-garment 
 with a boat-hook, as he was in the act of going down for the 
 third time; the cook was found quite drunk in his caboose; 
 the Welsh apprentice was too ill to attend to his duty ; and the 
 steward's cat, Felix, was walking the deck, howling dismally, 
 with his fur very damp and dishevelled, his hind legs a re- 
 markable distance from each other, and his tail the thickness 
 of a moderate-sized hawser. 
 
 " Whenever you see that accursed cat go rather wide behind, 
 you may be sure it is coming on to blow," said Captain Top- 
 hamper, pointing to the animal with his brazen trumpet. "I 
 
14 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 have ordered Chin to heave it overboard half a dozen times, 
 but he doesn't do it. All hands 'bout ship ! " 
 
 A terrific tramp and commotion in the forecastle. " All 
 ready there, for'ard?" 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir." 
 
 "Helms alee!" 
 
 " Helms alee !" re-echoed the man at the wheel; whereupon 
 Mr Slops, the drunken cook, let go the foresheet, another of 
 the hands let go the jib, and the brig came up in the wind. 
 
 "Tacks and sheets!" roared the captain, at the very top of 
 his voice. 
 
 "Tacks and sheets!" roared the crew, at the very top of 
 theirs ; and the brig was taken aback. 
 
 "Mainsail haul!" thundered the skipper. The mainyard 
 swung round, and was braced up ; some of the tars rushed forward 
 to haul aboard the maintack, and the remainder staid to haul 
 aft the raainsheet. The Golightly fell off, and her maintopsail 
 began to fill. 
 
 " Fore-bowlines let go and haul!" The foreyard instantly 
 swung round, the mate and two hands (assisted by Messrs Log 
 and O'Toole) boarded the foretack, and the cook and carpenter 
 hauled aft the foresheet. The sails being then trimmed, the 
 next order was, " Haul out the fore and main bowline 
 O belay! Haul aft the fore-spencer" which was done, and 
 the Golightly had now all sail set on the other tack. As a 
 captain and mate, however, have always something to add, in 
 order that a crew may see how incomplete everything that is 
 done would be if the officer in command did not give it the 
 finishing touch, Mr Tongs shouted once more, though in a 
 more suppressed and satisfied voice " Forward, there, and 
 take a pull at that flying jib-sheet. O belay that. A small 
 pull at the starboard maintopgallant sheet. O, well there 
 well. Go below the watch." 
 
 " If it comes on to blow heavily, let me know," said Captain 
 Tophamper, as he descended the companion for the night. 
 
 Captain Tophamper was out of spirits, and had resort to the 
 bottle or, more properly speaking, to bottles. He drank 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 15 
 
 deeply, and soon fell asleep with his head upon the cabin table. 
 I retired to my berth, and lay there, rolling as the brig rolled, 
 until midnight, when I seized my sou'wester and pea-jacket, 
 and scrambled again to the deck. Mr Tongs was pacing it with 
 rapid strides. I joined him. There was no moon, and the air 
 was inclined to be foggy. We were going about six knots, and 
 everything was very quiet. The mate suddenly came to a dead 
 stop, and caught hold of me by the arm. 
 
 " Do you see anything?" asked he. 
 
 "No where? what is the matter?" 
 
 " Up with your helm, for God's sake! up with it, my lad !" 
 cried the frantic mate, running aft, and addressing the man at 
 the wheel. 
 
 "Ay, ay, sir up it is," was the prompt reply; and, as he 
 spoke, a gigantic American ship loomed in sight, and passed us 
 so closely that her foreyard grazed our gaff, and carried away 
 the peak halyards. The danger over, Tongs ran forward, and 
 found our two lookouts in the forecastle fast asleep, with their 
 heads under the windlass. He kicked and cuffed each of them 
 soundly, and promised to report their conduct. The Yankee 
 merchantman had shown a light over her bows, and used every 
 exertion to avoid us. She was heavily laden, and, had she 
 struck us, we must have gone to the bottom in a moment. 
 
 HEAP THE THIRD. 
 
 " How is the w r ind this morning, steward ?" said I, emerging 
 from my state-room, and stealing a glance into the pantry as I 
 passed. Mr Chin shook his head. He was a man of few words. 
 
 " Right in our teeth," said he. 
 
 " No prospect of a change ?" 
 
 " Not till to-morrow." 
 
 I heaved a sigh, and went on deck. The captain was in an 
 ill-humour, of course, and rather redolent cf rum, Mr O'Toole 
 was gazing after his fur cap, for a puff of wind had carried it 
 
16 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 away, and a tall wave was now visible with it on, a cable's 
 length or more astern. Felix the cat was promenading the 
 lee-side of the quarterdeck. He looked less wet and miserable 
 than he had done the day previously, but his hind legs were, 
 if possible, wider apart than before. 
 
 " I wish somebody would heave that (something) cat over- 
 board," cried Captain Tophamper, essaying to seize the object 
 of his aversion by the tail. 
 
 There was a simultaneous hissing, and chasing, and clapping 
 of hands, and stamping of feet but Felix had absconded. 
 
 Nothing went right. Dinner was no sooner announced, than 
 Captain Tophamper discovered that the cook had spoiled the 
 pea-soup. 
 
 " Send him here!" cried the enraged skipper. 
 
 Mr Slops accordingly staggered down the companion into 
 the " presence." 
 
 "Drink that, sir! every drop of it do you hear?" 
 
 " Ay, ay, your honour," said Mr Slops, touching his fore- 
 lock, and taking the tureen carefully in his arms. In less than 
 five minutes the soup had disappeared and Mr Slops also. 
 
 "How did he like it, steward?" inquired the captain, as Mr 
 Chin entered with the beef. 
 
 " Very much, sir, and he is waiting to know whether you 
 will be so kind as to allow him a little bread and cheese, to 
 finish off with." 
 
 "Go and put the scoundrel in irons!" thundered Captain 
 Tophamper. 
 
 "!No use," replied Tongs, without moving from his chair; 
 " we haven't an iron that will fit him the fellow has got a foot 
 and ankle like an elephant." Mr O'Toole laughed at this well- 
 timed sally; I caught the infection; then the captain; then 
 the mate; and finally we all laughed together. Mr Slops was 
 ordered back to his caboose; and the skipper, having once suf- 
 fered his features to relax, continued to smile and joke through- 
 out the remainder of the day. 
 
 On the morrow, as Mr Chin had predicted, the wind did 
 change, and, in the space of one short hour, indeed, gallop 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 17 
 
 round to every point of the compass. It afterwards, as if fa- 
 tigued with the exertion, fell away altogether, the sails flapped 
 idly to the masts, and there was a dead calm. This state of 
 things was even more provoking than the other, and the cap- 
 tain relapsed into a condition bordering upon frenzy'; for he 
 had goods on board his vessel which were intended for the 
 early spring markets, and there was a probability of one or two 
 rival traders getting into port before him. The whole ship's 
 company began now, therefore, to whistle most perseveringly 
 for a wind; and a very amusing process it was. 
 
 "Why don't you whistle?" asked Captain Tophamper of 
 Mr O'Toole and myself, as we stood laughing at the ridiculous 
 nature of the proceeding " it is the least you can do to serve 
 us" so we puckered up our mouths, and began to whistle 
 forthwith. The effort soon exhausted me, and, being anxious 
 for a change of occupation, I despatched the steward for my 
 rifle, and walked towards the bows, with the intention of 
 shooting one of the many birds that were dipping and darting 
 around. 
 
 " Avast there, sir, if you please," cried an old tar, as he saw 
 me level the piece, and apply my finger to the trigger; "don't 
 kill it." 
 
 " Why not?" said I, a little discomfited and the bird fell. 
 The old seaman shook his head. 
 
 " What is the matter, my good fellow?" said I. 
 
 " You have killed a Mother Gary's chicken," was the reply. 
 
 "And what then?" 
 
 " No good can come of it, sir, that's all," and away went the 
 tar, shaking his head even more dolefully than before. I had 
 quite forgotten, until that moment, that sailors always consider 
 the death of one of these birds the precursor of evil. 
 
 Shortly afterwards, Mr Chin put his sable visage up the 
 companion, took a careful survey of the horizon, and remarked 
 that we should have some wind in the morning, and rather 
 more than a capful of it, too. I had often felt amused to ob- 
 serve that this man no sooner said a thing (and that in as few 
 words as possible), than he disappeared instantly, as though he 
 
 13 
 
IS WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 were in the confidence of the Fates, and feared, if he tarried, 
 he might be pressed to interpose for a change in their de- 
 crees. 
 
 The sun had set, the moon had risen, and the sails were 
 still flapping idly from the yards; a few of the crew were 
 lounging in the forecastle, and Mr Major and I were con- 
 versing upon the quarterdeck. He t had supplied himself with 
 a fresh quid, and appeared to be communicatively disposed. I 
 asked him if he took to the sea from choice. He shook his 
 head, and replied, that he steered rather wild when he was a 
 younker, so his father shipped him on board a man-of-war. 
 "It was all through my mother-in-law though, sir," continued 
 Mr Major, "and it came about in this 'ere way. You see, I 
 was always up to some devilment or other, such as hanging the 
 cat for diversion, or putting gunpowder into my father's pipe, 
 or privateering among the neighbours' hen-roosts or some- 
 thing of that natur. At last, one night about three bells in the 
 middle watch, I and a young messmate of mine had agreed to 
 take a quiet little cruise through the parson's orchard, and go 
 halves in the prize-money. Accordingly, when I thought all 
 was pretty snug, and I could slip my cable unobserved, I filled 
 away for the scene of action; but my mother had a trick of 
 sleeping with one eye open, like a weasel, as you will presently 
 see. Climbing a wall or two was an easy matter to me, and 
 as for a tree, I could run up it like a cat; but the night being 
 frosty, the ground sounded like the top of a drum, and there 
 came down such a shower of apples at the first shake, that we 
 expected every minute to find ourselves yardarm and yardarm 
 with the old parson. Howsomever, we filled our pockets, and 
 lined ourselves fore and aft, as well as stowed some into the 
 legs of our running rigging. After ballasting ourselves in this 
 way, and seeing that the coast was clear, we scaled the wall 
 again, and parted company. I was just beginning to chuckle 
 over my success, and make a short cut over the cauliflower 
 beds into port, when up riz my mother just in my wake, and 
 hails me to heave to, or she'd sink me. So I bouts ship at 
 once, thinking of my father's maxim, that it's always best to 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 19 
 
 face danger and the devil. 'What have you got there, my 
 young fox?' says she, grounding her big stick as a marine 
 would his musket, and overhauling me steadily with her eye. 
 'Nothing at all, mother, in perticklar,' says I; *I ain't very 
 well to-night.' ' 0, you're poorly, are you?' says my mother, 
 aiming a blow at my figurehead with the big stick, which lit 
 on a large golden pippin. ' I'll teach you to go robbing the 
 parson^s orchard ?' and with that down came the stick again, 
 and out rolled three pippins, which she gathered carefully up. 
 After that she made another cut at my figurehead, and an- 
 other over my quarter-gallery, each time dislodging half a 
 dozen of the pippins, and securing them simulterranously. 
 You see, sir, it was not so much for the punishing of me, as 
 for the overhauling of the prize-money, so I put my helm up 
 again, filled my maintopsail, and tried to make a run of it; 
 but she made sail arter me, and kept dusting away with the 
 crab-stick till I was forced to cry for quarter, and think of 
 striking my colours. * Avast there, you ould she bear,' says 
 I. ' Not a bit of it, you willin,' says my mother, making an- 
 other pounce on a fine pippin. With that I bouts ship again, 
 let fly a whole broadside of the pippins, arid then endeavoured 
 to board her in the smoke. And I should have got the best 
 of it too, sir, if my father, attracted by the noise and the 
 scrimmage, hadn't bore down to her assistance, and opened a 
 raking fire close astern of me, so that, between the two, I had 
 all my masts shot away, and was fairly riddled. A week arter 
 that I was shipped aboard the Grampus, and I am now second 
 mate of the Golightly." 
 
 " Call the watch ! " cried Mr Major, as he finished his tale, put 
 his pipe into his pocket, and struck the ship's bell eight times. 
 "All starbowlines ahoy! tumble up there d'ye hear the 
 news?" shouted one of the crew, with his head down the fore- 
 peak. Up came the larboard watch, rubbing their eyes, and 
 grumbling sorely, while I hastened below, and committed to 
 paper Mr Major's yarn, together with the few following lines, 
 which (by way of penance for the wilful murder of Mother 
 Gary's chicken) I had composed during the afternoon: 
 
20 WHITTLINGS FKOM THE WEST. 
 
 TO A STORMY PETREL, 
 
 WHICH I HAD KILLED WITH A RIFLE-BALL. 
 
 Poor, happy, harmless bird ! too late 
 
 I mourn my folly, and thy fate; 
 
 Why should this hand have work'd thee ill] 
 
 Wild wanderer of the sunny west, 
 I would that thou wert bounding still 
 
 O'er yonder billow's snowy crest! 
 Was there not room for both to live 
 
 And sport upon the glad blue main, 
 
 That I should pant to see thee slain, 
 And take the life I cannot give? 
 How gaily onward wert thou gliding, 
 So innocent, and so confiding, 
 As if to lead us o'er the waste 
 To that new world to which we haste. 
 I mourn to think that thou should'st die 
 To see thee float so lifeless by 
 With bloodstain'd bosom to the sky, 
 As if in mute appeal to Him 
 
 Who taught that little feather'd form 
 Along the azure wave to skim, 
 
 And brave the billow and the storm, 
 Which thou wilt brave again ah, never ! 
 
 For only He, who saw thy pain, 
 
 Within that breast could light again 
 The spark which I have quench'd for ever. 
 
 HEAP THE FOURTH. 
 
 Mr Chin was right. The morrow brought with it a heavy 
 gale from the nor'-nor'-east. I got out of my berth; and, 
 finding that I could not stand, immediately got in again. 
 The brig was labouring as I had never seen her labour be- 
 fore, and the uproar of winds, waves, and angry voices, was 
 beyond anything that can be conceived. I made another 
 attempt to dress myself, succeeded, and hurried on deck. 
 
 All the sails were furled, with the exception of the fore 
 and maintop sails, and they were double-reefed, and the 
 yards braced sharp up. Seas were flying over us in all 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 21 
 
 directions. The captain was bellowing through his trumpet; 
 the mate was shouting through his palms; the men were 
 scampering; cordage was creaking; the fowls were cackling; 
 and Mr O'Toole was standing under the roundhouse, with 
 his eyes closed, both hands applied to his glazed cap, and his 
 coat-flaps sticking straight out behind him, in the most ludi- 
 crous manner imaginable. Felix the cat was parading the 
 deck, uttering the most sickly and diabolical sounds, and lift- 
 ing his hinder claws four inches into the air at every step. 
 
 It was in vain that I ran to my two favourite belaying-pins 
 for succour. A heavy sea, striking me upon the back, tore 
 me from them, tossed me over the cabin skylight, dashed me 
 between the widely-planted legs of the second mate, and 
 eventually deposited me upon my face in the lee scuppers. 
 At the same moment, Mr O'Toole, while sharing in the mirth 
 this catastrophe awakened, was wrenched from his strong 
 position also, and stretched gasping over the after-hatchway. 
 As I assisted him to his feet, I happened to catch the eye of 
 the old tar who had taken me to task about the Mother Gary's 
 chicken. Its prevailing expression -was, "I told you so; but 
 the worst hasn't come yet." 
 
 Nor shall I soon forget the humours of that day's dinner 
 hour. The table was, of course, provided with guards, but 
 they were of little use upon the present occasion, as the Go- 
 lightly was one moment erect upon her stern, and the next 
 balancing herself upon the extreme end of her bowsprit, with 
 her keel rather awkwardly exposed. Lurch No. 1 carried 
 away the cruet-stand and biscuit-tray; No. 2 knocked the 
 chief mate's head through the pannel of one of the "state- 
 room" doors; No. 3 cleared off knives, forks, and spoons; 
 No. 4 plates, dishes, and mats; while No. 5 eloped with the 
 potatoes and pickled onions; and Nos. 6, 7, and 8, splashed 
 the pea-soup into the captain's face, thumped him twice on 
 the brow with the ladle, and finally crowned him with the 
 empty tureen, an ornament which imparted to the features of 
 our skipper a dignity of expression that would have quite 
 baffled the brush of any of the old masters. But I was 
 
22 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 scarcely less taken with the novelty of this scene than with 
 the self-possession of Mr Major, the second mate. During 
 the struggle, he had been hurled violently from his chair, and 
 when I turned round some time afterwards, wondering why he 
 did not resume his seat, I perceived that he had been so con- 
 siderate as to carry away his knife, fork, and plate with him, 
 and was now quietly finishing his beef in a retired corner of 
 the cabin. Of Mr Chin, likewise, I became hourly more 
 enamoured. His favourite Felix had behaved unpleasantly 
 during dinner, and offended Captain Tophamper, who ordered 
 his immediate removal. Mr Chin accordingly picked up Felix 
 calmly by the tail, and, as the skipper was relating an anecdote 
 at the moment, held his protege still in that position, at arm's- 
 length, without once deigning to glance at or sympathise in 
 the slightest degree with his sufferings, until the story was 
 finished ; and then the steward smiled in his usual silent, 
 grim manner, and bore the animal into the pantry for punish- 
 ment. 
 
 The gale increased in ferocity towards night, and then, 
 being unable to sleep, I was repairing to my favourite posi- 
 tion under the roundhouse, when I tumbled against one of the 
 tars, who in his turn tumbled against the carpenter, who lost 
 his footing, and we all three rolled laughing into the scuppers 
 together. Regaining my legs with some difficulty, I was 
 making a second effort to reach the man at the wheel, when 
 my ear caught the strange and startling cry of " Ship ahoy !" 
 proceeding apparently from somebody close under our bows. 
 Drawing the mate to the brig's side, therefore, I bade him 
 listen, and the same dismal sound rose once more upon the 
 wind. "We looked long and steadily over the quarter, and 
 from the bows, and from the stern, but could see nothing save 
 dark angry waves and white foam. Again though much 
 more faintly " Ship ahoy ! ahoy!" 
 
 "Turn the hands up, and see if there's any one missing," 
 cried Tongs. "Look alive there how many do you muster?" 
 
 "Fifteen in all, sir," said the carpenter, coming forward; 
 "is anything the matter?" 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 23 
 
 "There's some one hailing us. Hark, don't you hear it?" 
 
 "Ship ahoy! ahoy! ahoy!" 
 
 "Where's Mr O'Toole?" asked the mate, anxiously. 
 
 "He turned in half an hour ago, and I heard him snoring 
 just now, as I went to speak with the steward," replied the 
 carpenter "he's safe enough." 
 
 "And Mr Log?" 
 
 " He's here, sir." 
 
 "And you're sure the captain's below?" 
 
 " Quite, sir." 
 
 "Well, it's very odd; listen again." 
 
 " I do not hear anything now, and it would be all one if we 
 did; poor fellow, he's gone." 
 
 " Could we not retrace our course," said I, " or or lower 
 a boat ? " 
 
 "Lower a boat on a night like this!" almost screamed the 
 mate. So I said no more; but the incident left a gloom upon 
 my spirits; and often in the dead of night now I hear the 
 roaring of that storm, and the same strange, sad cry coming 
 down upon the wind, and dying away again, far to leeward. 
 Here are some lines too, by the by, which I wrote soon after- 
 wards : 
 
 " Ship ahoy ! ship ahoy ! " 'twas a dismal cry, 
 It will ring in my ears till the day I die; 
 For, borne along on the midnight gale, 
 It told a sad and a solemn tale. 
 
 " Ship ahoy ! ship ahoy ! " but fainter now; 
 We bent our gaze from the foam-wash'd bow 
 "We strain'd our eyes o'er the latticed stern 
 Yet nothing nothing could we discern. 
 
 " Ship ahoy ! ahoy ! " poor struggling tar, 
 With help so near, and hope so far, 
 Must you find a grave in the stormy deep, 
 Where no wife may wail, and no children weep? 
 
 Those mournful sounds were heard no more, 
 The angry waves had whelm'd him o'er; 
 And my heart had thoughts that it could not speak, 
 As I paced the deck with a moisten'd cheek. 
 
24 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 Another day, and another, and yet another, and still no 
 prospect of a change. At length the gale spent itself, and 
 then there came a calm, which exasperated us even more than 
 the headwind had done. This calm lasted the greater part of 
 a week, at the expiration of which time the quicksilver in 
 the barometer was observed to fall rapidly. A light breeze 
 sprang up died away revived again and drew aft. 
 
 " Square away the foreyard there," cried Captain Top- 
 hamper, skipping merrily to the deck. 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir," responded the ready tars, flying to the braces. 
 
 "Handsomely, my lads, handsomely," shouted the skipper. 
 " Oh, well there, well. Topsail-brace a small pull. Top- 
 gallant-brace a bit oh belay. Mr Tongs, let the men go 
 to their suppers." 
 
 Everything now appeared to be as much disposed to go 
 right as it had before been inclined to go wrong. The breeze 
 held bravely, and blew us, in the space of six or eight days 
 and nights, upwards of a thousand miles upon our course. 
 Captain Tophamper laughed, and drank, took observations, 
 and told stories; Mr Tongs quoted poetry of his own com- 
 position, and sang for us; Mr Major taught me how to box 
 the compass and steer the ship; and the crew, at the sugges- 
 tion of Mr O'Toole and myself, were allowed to splice the 
 main-brace twice in one week, and have a double quantity of 
 plums in their Sunday pudding. 
 
 "Sail, ho, on the larboard beam!" sang the look-out in 
 the forecastle, early one fine morning. She was an emigrant 
 vessel. I borrowed the captain's glass, and the sight of the 
 dirty objects crowded upqn her deck almost made me ill. Cap- 
 tain Tophamper seized the trumpet, and, as soon as we were 
 within speaking distance, the following interesting parley took 
 place : 
 
 " Schooner ahoy ! " 
 
 "Hal-lo!" 
 
 " What schooner's that ?" 
 
 " The Sprig of Shilellah." 
 
 "Where from?" 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 25 
 
 " Cark." 
 
 "Whither bound?" 
 
 " St John's." 
 
 "How long out?" 
 
 " Fifteen days." 
 
 Captain Tophamper aside " We'll believe as much as we 
 like of that." 
 
 " W^hat cargo have you ?" 
 
 " Them craturs," said the skipper of the Sprig of Shilellah, 
 pointing contemptuously to the emigrants; and having now 
 gone satisfactorily through his lesson, he became in turn the 
 interrogator, and asked the same questions all over again. 
 Those being duly responded to, he inquired whether we had 
 got an observation that day, and if so, begged to be favoured 
 with the longitude, as his chronometer was a little out of re- 
 pair. Having obliged him in this particular, we took a long 
 survey of " them craturs," and the supercargo and I did not 
 feel in the slightest degree anxious to cultivate a closer ac- 
 quaintance, though both Mr Tongs and Mr Major began to 
 ogle some of the young Irish ladies frightfully. They all 
 looked very wretched and filthy, with the exception of one 
 facetious youth in a blue coat, the tails of which reached 
 almost down to his shoes. He appeared to be the life and soul 
 of the ship. One minute, he was making them laugh by stand- 
 ing heels upwards on the top of the cook's galley, with the 
 tails of the blue coat flapping over his ears; the next, he 
 was swinging by his neck from the foreyard-arm, to all 
 appearance quite lifeless and stiff; then he might be seen 
 scouring along the decks with a saucepan of potatoes for 
 some superannuated emigrant's dinner; and, shortly after- 
 wards, holding an elderly female by the back hair and chin, 
 while she was in the agonising throes of sea-sickness. I have 
 little doubt that he was one of the best-hearted fellows on 
 board, and that, if any melancholy casualty had deprived 
 them of his society, the greater portion of the ship's company 
 would have shed tears, and become inconsolable at their loss. 
 
 The bleak and blustering month of April had now rolled 
 
26 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 by, and the weather began to grow mild and pleasant. The 
 days were warm and clear, and the nights bright and starry. 
 It was upon one of the latter that I perpetrated these lines: 
 
 TO MY SISTER. 
 
 'Tis night but not a night to sleep 
 Upon the blue and moonlit deep. 
 It is a night to think of home, 
 
 And friends, and all the heart holds dear; 
 And, though so far from thee I roam, 
 
 My sister, thou wilt lend an ear. 
 
 Three thousand miles now intervene 
 
 Between that happy home and me, 
 But though three millions these had been, 
 
 They could not keep my thoughts from thee. 
 I know, too, thine will often stray 
 To him who wanders far away; 
 I know that not a night has pass'd, 
 Since thou didst gaze upon me last, 
 But what thy lip has breathed a prayer 
 
 To Heaven for me, thus doom'd to rove 
 
 Far from the happy land I love, 
 To one which cannot be more fair, 
 And never half so dear. Alas ! 
 How many more such nights must pass, 
 Ere I can hope to see thy face, 
 And clasp thee in a long embrace ! 
 
 I said 'twas night upon the 
 
 Our little bark, with wings unfurl'd 
 To waft us to that western world 
 Which soon will smile beneath our lee, 
 Leaps joyously from wave to wave, 
 O'er many a gallant seaman's grave, 
 Down where the stars reflected shine, 
 Like jewels in an eastern mine. 
 
 How often, on such nights as this, 
 So calm, so bright, so full of bliss 
 When the young moon has stoop'd to kiss 
 Each rapid billow on its flight, 
 And tinge it o'er with mellow light 
 I've scann'd our graceful ship with pride, 
 And wish'd that thou wert by my side, 
 To pace the moonlit deck with me, 
 And breathe the hour's tranquillity. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 27 
 
 But, L , see, while yet I sing, 
 
 The storm to windward gathering ! 
 
 That little cloud of silver hue, 
 
 Which hid the young moon from our view 
 
 (As if she would have blush'd to stray 
 
 Unveil'd along yon milky way), 
 
 Has spread itself o'er all the sky, 
 
 And call'd from 'far those sleeping gales 
 
 We long have woo'd to fill our sails. 
 
 It freshens fleeter and more fleet 
 Along the foaming main we fly; 
 
 But ah ! the scene that was so sweet ! 
 All now is darkness to mine eye. 
 
 thus, thus, many a dream we cherish, 
 And many a hope, doom'd but to perish, 
 And many a bright and rosy hour 
 We spend in love and friendship's bower, 
 Although replete with all the joy 
 That earth can give and soon destroy 
 One single moment will o'ercast, 
 Until we learn to feel , at last, 
 Some other world contains the bliss 
 Which we have vainly sought in this. 
 
 Four bells ! 'tis time to sigh adieu; 
 Would that the bark which bears to you 
 These lines, could waft me o'er the main, 
 And give you to my arms again ! 
 
 HEAP THE FIFTH. 
 
 Hitherto, though many rough and angry words had at 
 times passed between the captain and mate, they had agreed 
 upon the whole tolerably well, and had generally addressed 
 each other with common civility. Friendships at sea, however, 
 like friendships ashore, have their occasional interruptions; 
 and accordingly, one day, Captain Tophamper and Mr Tongs 
 got to loggerheads, and abused each other roundly. The 
 grounds of the quarrel were these : The mate, whose parti- 
 cular province it was to dictate to and overlook the seamen, 
 in the discharge of their respective duties, was busying him- 
 
28 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 self to that effect, and blustering about a good deal in the 
 forecastle. The captain, contrary to his custom and privilege, 
 happened to go forward and suggest some improvement which 
 had suddenly occurred to him. The mate, therefore, finding 
 himself superseded, walked quietly aft, and presently went 
 below, whistling a lively tune with the most captivating calm- 
 ness. The skipper, seeing how matters stood, grew very red, 
 and then white, and shortly worked himself up into a towering 
 passion. 
 
 " Where's Mr Tongs ? " thundered Captain Tophamper, 
 facing about. 
 
 " Here, sir," said the gentleman alluded to, putting his head 
 insinuatingly up the companion; "here, at your service." 
 
 " What do you mean by leaving your post, sir?" bellowed 
 the skipper. " I've a good mind to put you in irons." 
 
 " I mean precisely this," replied the mate, " that, if you are 
 so condescending as to aid me in the performance of my duties, 
 jt's only fair and polite that I should render you what assist- 
 ance I can in the discharge of yours; so just be good enough 
 to lend 'em a hand in rigging out that starboard foreto'gallant 
 stun'sail boom, while I take the sun's altitude." 
 
 " You're an impudent scoundrel, sir," roared Captain Top- 
 hamper. 
 
 "Thank you, sir," said the mate, waving his hand grace- 
 fully, and raising the quadrant to his eye. 
 
 Captain Tophamper spoke again, but a sudden flapping of 
 one of the sails rendered the words inaudible. 
 
 " Much obliged, I'm sure," replied Tongs, with the same 
 fascinating coolness. 
 
 " You're a mutinous rascal," cried Captain Tophamper, 
 "and if you'll just walk forward here, I'll heave you over- 
 board." 
 
 " Oh, you are really too good," responded the mate, with 
 another wave of the hand. " I should be sorry to put you to 
 so much unnecessary trouble and exertion pray excuse me." 
 
 At this juncture of the altercation, Mr Tongs wiped the 
 glasses of the quadrant carefully, and was retiring below, 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 29 
 
 when the skipper, exasperated beyond all bounds, seized a 
 handspike, and rushed aft. Apprehensive that murder would 
 be the inevitable result, aft rushed the supercargo and I like- 
 wise, and down the companion in an instant. But we had 
 reckoned without our hosts, for, in place of finding the two 
 worthy disputants (as we had anticipated) bleeding profusely, 
 and locked savagely together in the death struggle, we found 
 them embracing each other with the most irresistible cordiality, 
 and interchanging vows of eternal friendship. The scene was 
 indeed so precisely the reverse of what we had expected, that 
 Mr O'Toole and I sat down and laughed immoderately; the 
 captain and mate joining in our merriment, and (as mirth is 
 somewhat catching) Mr Chin (who was in the pantry, rolling 
 out paste for a pudding) deigning also to add his queer abrupt 
 cachinnation to the general stock. 
 
 This man Chin, as I have already hinted, was a particularly 
 odd character. His perfect self-possession and extreme de- 
 mureness amused me very much, and I was anxious to see 
 whether anything would move him. The anecdote is a little 
 out of place here, perhaps, but I may not find a better oppor- 
 tunity of relating it. I had noticed that the steward was in 
 the habit of attaching the piece of beef or pork intended for 
 cabin consumption to a long line, and then flinging it overboard, 
 to be dragged through the water for an hour or two in the brig's 
 wake. He had no sooner done this one day, therefore, and 
 returned to his pantry, than Mr O'Toole and I hauled up the 
 line, removed the beef, and substituted for it one of the 
 second mate's gigantic wet-weather boots; then dropped it 
 overboard again, and waited the issue in great glee. By and 
 by up came Mr Chin, looking as demure as ever, hauled in 
 his line hand over hand, and without glancing downward at 
 all, for he had no suspicion that anything was wrong, began to 
 move back towards the companion. " Hallo, steward!" cried 
 the captain, who was just ascending to the deck; " what have 
 you got there?" "Beef, sar," said Mr Chin. " Beef, eh? 
 then I fancy you'll have to borrow me a set of shark's grinders 
 to masticate it. Look what you have got at the end of your 
 
30 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 line, you jackass !" Mr Chin bent his gaze downward now, 
 and I observed that his whole frame underwent a momentary 
 convulsion; then he looked at Captain Tophamper then back 
 to his beef and then walked away below, thinkingly. He 
 was very silent the whole of that day and the next, and sat 
 musing a good deal oh the top of one of the pork barrels. I 
 felt almost afraid that his intellects had suffered, and deter- 
 mined to play no more such practical jokes in future. 
 
 This, however, is a digression ; now to resume the thread of 
 my narrative. 
 
 I had suffered a sort of dread lest this unexpected outbreak 
 on the part of our officers should threaten the harmony I 
 wished to find prevailing during the remainder of the voyage; 
 but the termination of the affray convinced me that I had little 
 to apprehend on that score; and ere an hour, indeed, had 
 elapsed, I had the satisfaction of seeing the captain and mate 
 pace the quarterdeck together again with as much good- 
 will as though nothing whatever had occurred to shake their 
 equanimity. 
 
 And since I have been led into an animadversion upon our 
 skipper's amiability, I may as well observe, that I think it had 
 seldom shone forth in more conspicuous colours than upon the 
 very evening subsequent to the dispute of which I have already 
 treated. One of the hands had come aft to consult him upon 
 the expediency of an application to the ship's medicine chest. 
 
 " Put your tongue out, my man," said Captain Tophamper. 
 
 "Ay, ay, sir." 
 
 " Oh belay haul it in again." 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir ; in it is." 
 
 " Let me overhaul your pulse. Ah ! it's going ten knots at 
 least; have you any pain?" 
 
 " A little, sir, in my upper works." 
 
 " I see you're too much by the head that's it. I fancy we 
 had better give you some salts. Do you like salts, my man ? 
 Here, steward, bring a glass." 
 
 As both Mr O'Toole and I, however, had a predilection in 
 favour of castor oil, the bottle containing that preparation was 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 31 
 
 handed out of the chest, and a powerful dose of it administered ; 
 the tar pulling the most hideous grimaces all the while, and 
 Captain Tophamper's expressive features involuntarily daguer- 
 reotyping them. Jack then made his scrape as handsomely as 
 though he had been treated to the very best the cabin afforded, 
 took two strides up the ^-companion ladder, and filled away to 
 his quarters. And thus merrily rolled by the first beautiful 
 and sunny week in May, to which period of our pilgrimage the 
 following memoranda also have relation. 
 
 It was about two bells in the middle watch. The night was 
 so unusually mild, and the sea so calm, that I had little induce- 
 ment to quit the deck more particularly, as I entertained for 
 the nonce some intention of turning eavesdropper. There were 
 five tars (I have already observed that we had several old men- 
 of-wars-men on board the Golightly) sitting round the comb- 
 ings of the fore-hatchway in earnest conversation, and i felt 
 sure that something of mare than ordinary interest was "in 
 the wind." With this conviction, I crawled stealthily forward, 
 and took up a position close abaft the foremast, where I could 
 hear all that went on, without risk of detection. I should have 
 advanced with boldness, and made one of the party, but I in- 
 variably found that a step of the kind led to embarrassment 
 and reserve on the part of the yarn-spinning fraternity, and I 
 preferred to give them their full swing of cable. The voice 
 that met my ear was that of a handsome, middle-aged seaman, 
 whose activity and address I had frequently admired, and 
 whose general air and conduct induced me to believe that he 
 had been born to figure in a more imposing station. 
 
 " Before I begin my story, shipmates," said he, " I tell you 
 all candidly there is not a man of you will believe it ; and I 
 would not credit it myself, if I had been anything but an eye- 
 witness of what I am about to relate. You have often got me 
 to spin a yarn for you, and I have spun it, and you knew at 
 the time, as well as I did, that it was a yarn, and there was an 
 end of the matter. But I am now going to tell you a truth a 
 thing that actually occurred and I must beg of you, whatever 
 your private sentiments may be, not to appear to doubt my 
 
32 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 veracity, as I am, perhaps, a little sensitive on that point, and 
 might be led to say something in my haste which I should after- 
 wards regret. Indeed, this is the first time I have ever opened 
 my lips to any one on the subject, except to those who were 
 concerned in the busines^' for I knew that I should be taken 
 for a liar, and laughed atf and have therefore held my peace. 
 The only reason why I /m disposed to allude to the thing now 
 is, because it was on this very night year that it happened; ay, 
 and in these very latitudes, too, for I stole a look at the mate's 
 log to-day, and that brought the whole occurrence to my mind. 
 The night was just such another as the present, except that 
 there was a fine moon, and we could see around us for miles, 
 it was so clear and beautiful. Suddenly one of our look-outs 
 in the forecastle sung out, * Sail, ho, on the larboard beam!' 
 then dropping his voice ' and the ugliest-looking craft I ever 
 clapped eyes on, too. Bill, see if you can make out her rig.' 
 It was but a moment before that I had scanned the horizon 
 carefully, and you may guess, my lads, that I was a little taken 
 aback when 1 heard my friend Tom Jervis deliver himself 
 after that fashion. However, I ran forward and took a long 
 squint through the mate's night-glass at the stranger, and, as I 
 did so, I felt my hair bristling up, for she bore about as much 
 resemblance to a ship as my figurehead does to Harry Sulli- 
 van's thei^; and you'll all acknowledge that he's about one of 
 the ugliest chaps that ever cracked biscuit. * I don't know 
 what to make of this at all,' said Mr Johnson, our first mate, 
 as pale as a ghost. * Turn the hands up, and pass the word 
 down to the captain look alive, some of you.' Up tumbled 
 the men in their shirts, and down went Bob Simmonds to rouse 
 the skipper; but, when he got into the captain's state-room, 
 the poor fellow's teeth chattered so in his head, and his knees 
 knocked together so with fright, that all he could do was to 
 bump himself down on a chest, and gape, and point aloft. 
 ' Speak, you scoundrel,' said the skipper, nearly as much fright- 
 ened as himself; 'what is the matter? is the ship on fire? 
 have the men mutinied? or are we boarded by pirates?' 
 Then, without waiting for an answer, he snatched up his pistols, 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 33 
 
 and rushed on deck. A single glance served to explain how 
 matters stood, and as he gazed, I could see the big drops of 
 sweat chasing each other down his weather-beaten face. ' Make 
 ready the carronade there,' cried he, in a hoarse whisper, * and 
 give her a shot across her forefoot, What do you make her 
 out to be, Mr Johnson?' * Something from another world, 
 sir,' said the mate, with a ghastly look. The next minute the 
 heavy boom of the gun was heard, and the shot went skipping 
 over the water, without producing the slightest impression upon 
 the great black mass abeam of us. * Lower away the quarter- 
 boat/ cried the captain; 'jump in four of you quick's the 
 word so give way, my lads, give way.' In the turning of 
 a handspike, down went the jolly-boat by the run, the skipper 
 jumped into the stern-sheets, seized the tiller, and away we 
 flew. But before we had pulled ten strokes in the direction 
 of the monster, our arms fell paralysed to our sides, our tongues 
 stuck to the roofs of our mouths, and there we sat, with our 
 eyes nearly bolting out of their sockets, and our teeth chatter- 
 ing like so many castanets. The fellow had a head the size of 
 our hull, and shaped like a horse's ; tusks like a hippopotamus ; 
 and a tail like a crocodile. And there he was, turning himself 
 first this way and then that, and looking as though it was the 
 first time he'd ever been above water in his life, and didn't 
 quite know what to make of it. Just then the creatye reared 
 himself still higher out of the sea, and clapped together his 
 huge jaws with a rattle like twenty muskets ; at the same time 
 his eyes glared like two balls of fire, and the water for a hun- 
 dred yards astern of him was one sheet of foam. That was 
 all the observation we had time to make, for the moment he 
 gave us the salute I've described to you, the whole four of us, 
 as if by one consent, gave way together, the skipper put his 
 helm hard-a-port, and we shot alongside the ship again with a 
 crash that nearly stove in her bows. Deuce a one of us had 
 the heart to look behind him, and it was happy-go-lucky, devil 
 take the hindmost, in getting up the side again, lean tell you; 
 for it wasn't an everyday occurrence this, and when our skipper 
 turned tail, it wouldn't be for a trifle either. When we looked 
 
 c 
 
34 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 again, however, for the cause of all our alarm, he was nowhere 
 to be seen, so the captain summoned the hands aft, and addressed 
 us as follows : * My lads, for the first time to-night, in a life 
 of eight-and-forty years, I have been frightened, and I am not 
 ashamed to confess it, for I have never heard nor read of a 
 monster bearing any resemblance to the one we have now seen. 
 Respecting it, too, let me give you one piece of advice: relate 
 the affair to no one ; it is so extraordinary, and so improbable, 
 that no man in his senses will believe it, and all you will reap 
 for your pains will be a large amount of laughter and ridicule, 
 which it would be hard to put up with, and folly to resent. So 
 I say again, keep your own counsel and now go below the 
 watch.' " 
 
 The handsome sailor here concluded his yarn, and I went 
 below, to commit it as nearly as possible in his own words to 
 paper. 
 
 HEAP THE SIXTH. 
 
 It was Sunday, and the seventh of May; we had been up- 
 wards of five weeks afloat, and I began to sigh for a glimpse 
 of some green fields and trees again. The mate and I were 
 pacing the deck slowly together. A perfect stillness and lan- 
 guor pervaded sea and sky, and the only sound that could be 
 heard was the musical splash of the waves against the sides of 
 the vessel. The sails hung drowsily from the yards ; the 
 crew were lounging in the forecastle, some reading, a few 
 smoking, and others asleep. Several whales were spouting 
 in the distance, and a flying fish had just risen, but I did not 
 see it. 
 
 Suddenly, a thick smoke was observed to issue from the 
 after-hatchway. The mate, with a face as white as a sheet, 
 passed the word below to the captain and Mr Major, and turned 
 the hands up instantly, under the impression that the brig was 
 on fire. Mr Chin, the second mate, and four of the crew, 
 dived frantically into the hold, and began to toss the bales 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 35 
 
 and boxes about with the air of so many insane sheriff's officers ; 
 Captain Tophamper, with Messrs Tongs, O'Toole, and Log, not 
 a whit less active, dashed down the forepeak and the mystery 
 was at once unravelled. Instead of ascending the funnel 
 decently, as it should have done, the smoke from the stove 
 in the sailor's quarters had contrived to make the tour of the 
 whole vessel, and find it's way into Mr Chin's pantry. We 
 were all a little frightened, and proportionately merry when the 
 alarm was proved to be a false one. I had not seen Mr Chin 
 excited before. 
 
 There is an old adage, that " it never rains but it pours." 
 We had scarcely recovered from the shock the anticipation of 
 a fire occasioned us, than a violent squall sprang up, and laid 
 the Golightly almost upon her beam ends. As our studding- 
 sails were set, and there was no time either to clew up or haul 
 down, the stu'nsail tacks were let go, and the topsail halyards 
 let run; the brig then paid off before it two or three points, 
 and for some minutes we tore along at a furious rate. The 
 scuffle and commotion surpassed anything I had ever witnessed. 
 The sails were all flapping out, and^ nearly blowing from the 
 bolt-ropes ; the captain was bellowing through his trumpet ; 
 the seamen were running aloft, and laying out dizzily upon the 
 yards ; the wind was roaring lustily ; the waves were looking 
 over our stern, and threatening to poop us ; heavy seas were 
 flying over the quarter ; the water-casks broke from their 
 moorings ; the fowl-pens were washed overboard ; and Mr 
 Chin's talented cat was striking out for life and death in the 
 lee-scuppers. And then the squall subsided almost as suddenly 
 as it had sprung up ; not, however, before our royals and top- 
 gallantsails had been furled, the studdingsails hauled down, 
 the mainsail and foresail hauled up, and nothing left standing 
 but the fore and maintopsail, and those double-reefed. The 
 foretopmast-staysail was then set, and the brig brought to he" 
 course again. In the bustle and confusion, one of the hands 
 (the young Welshman) tumbled, without being hurt, from the 
 foreyard to the deck, his fall having providentially been broken 
 by a rope that was flying about the foremast from the weather- 
 
36 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 rigging. The mate sympathisingly threatened to masthead 
 him if he did it again. 
 
 The next day, as we were becalmed once more, Captain 
 Tophamper proposed an hour's rifle practice, and ordered the 
 carpenter to sling a bottle from the spritsail-yardarm, while we 
 endeavoured to cut the string with a bullet. Captain Top- 
 hamper smashed the bottle ; Mr O'Toole chipped a splinter 
 from the neck ; and the mate, owing to some slight inaccuracy 
 of aim, had the misfortune to wound one of the men in the 
 foretop. He loaded again, however, and was about to level 
 the piece a second time over the cabin skylight, when five or 
 six of the crew, who appeared to entertain some doubts of his 
 proficiency as a marksman, rushed desperately down the fore- 
 scuttle. The sharp crack of the rifle followed, and Mr Slops, the 
 cook, thrust his red face out of the galley, with a hearty exe- 
 cration, and a hint to us to continue the amusement at our peril. 
 "Eh! what's that, sir?" asked the indignant mate, with a 
 scowl, and a highly complimentary epithet. " I haven't shot 
 you, have I?" 
 
 " No, but you might have done," responded Mr Slops, " for 
 you've knocked the bottom out of one of my sarcepans ; " a choice 
 retort, which drew so loud and lively a sally of mirth from the 
 gentlemen of the forescuttle, that the mate thought it prudent 
 to raise the siege, and beat an immediate retreat. 
 
 A few evenings afterwards, a fine breeze having befriended 
 the Golightly, we found ourselves on the great bank of New- 
 foundland. There were three ships in sight, and each of 
 them had experienced a disaster. One had lost her bowsprit; 
 a second her maintop-gallantmast; and the mizzen of the third 
 had been carried away at the cap. She made signals to us, 
 but Captain Tophamper, observing that he had no sticks to 
 spare, shirked the correspondence, and she soon dropped astern. 
 Towards night, the lead was heaved, and brought up a few 
 grains of sand, and a shell or two. The weather began to 
 grow colder, and the mercury in the thermometer having 
 fallen an inch in an hour, our skipper said that we must be 
 in the neighbourhood of icebergs. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 37 
 
 Hearing that we were upon the " banks," Mr O'Toole went 
 to the steward and procured a piece of pork, which we at- 
 tached to the end of the deep sea line, and hung over the 
 quarter, in the hope of catching a cod; but a cod would not 
 be caught, and we only got laughed at for our pains. 
 
 I was awakened early the next morning by the novel and 
 startling cry of "Icebergs ahead!" "Icebergs on the larboard 
 bow!" and "Icebergs on the beam!" I ran hastily to the 
 deck, and counted upwards of fifty of them. They were of 
 a bright, bluish-green colour, and glittered beautifully in the 
 sunlight. Some looked like old castles and cathedrals; others 
 like floating islands of fretted silver; and one, with its hundred 
 sparkling minarets and spires, like a fairy city emigrating. 
 A large ship was sailing past it, and her maintop-gallantmast 
 only reached one- third the height of the berg. In calculating 
 its total altitude, I did not forget to take into consideration 
 the fact of there always being at least eight feet of ice below 
 water, for every one that is above. Some navigators, indeed, 
 say there are eleven. 
 
 The liveliest imagination could scarcely conceive anything 
 more sublime than the scene the ocean now presented. We 
 were surrounded by icebergs, and every time the waves struck 
 one of them, the spray ascended a hundred feet into the air, 
 and gave birth to an exquisite bow, which alternately formed 
 and disappeared, as the light fleecy clouds let through or ob- 
 scured the rays of the rising sun. 
 
 Notwithstanding, however, that these stupendous fabrics 
 (the handiwork of the Frost King) were beautiful objects for 
 contemplation by day, they were particularly awkward and 
 unpleasant things to come into contact with at night, and 
 such they proved themselves on the present occasion. Though 
 our watches were doubled, and the mate himself stood at the 
 bow, with his quick eye peering into the gloom, twice we 
 were nearly dashed to atoms in the darkness; and eventually 
 a heavy fog that set in, denied us the privilege of carrying 
 any sail at all. In this melancholy condition, we continued 
 to beat about for the space of two days, ringing bells, halloo- 
 
38 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 ing, drumming upon empty casks, firing pistols, and blowing 
 horns, as a means of hinting our proximity to the nume- 
 rous fishing smacks that were cruising around. 
 
 At length the fog cleared away, and the welcome cry of 
 "Land, ho!" sent a thrill to all hearts. I borrowed the cap- 
 tain's glass again, and saw in the distance the bleak, bluff, 
 inhospitable-looking coast of Newfoundland, with its high 
 cliffs and snow-covered mountains; but this was my first 
 glimpse of a foreign soil, and I gazed upon it with rapture. 
 Soon afterwards we doubled Cape Race, and by and by the 
 revolving light upon Cape Ray became visible. The next 
 morning we were becalmed off a lovely little island, and could 
 see the green trees waving upon the heights ; and anon a stiff 
 blustering breeze springing up, blew us, with all sail set, 
 straight into the Gulf of St Lawrence. 
 
 " What have you got there?" inquired Captain Tophamper, 
 with a glistening eye, as Mr OToole and I were gliding past 
 him, each with a bottle under one arm. 
 
 " A treat for the men," was the reply ; " they have conducted 
 themselves very well, and you can be looking the other way." 
 
 "Ah, very good; but let me see that you are not going to 
 poison some of them. You know I should be the responsible 
 party, if you did," observed Captain Tophamper, with a prudent 
 cough. " O, this is fine indeed; it hasn't paid a very heavy 
 duty, I warrant. I suppose the other bottle contains something 
 similar," said the skipper, smacking his lips, and hammering 
 down the cork with the palm of his hand " I must just put my 
 lips to it. Really, this is an improvement on the other 
 heigh-ho!" 
 
 We had not taken more than two steps in the direction of 
 the forecastle, ere we were accosted by Mr Tongs. 
 
 "Fine evening, gentlemen," said he; "glorious sunset 
 hem!" 
 
 " Very. Just give us your opinion of this, Tongs," said I, 
 handing the bottle." 
 
 " Shall be exceedingly happy," replied the mate, raising his 
 cap in a most irresistible manner. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 39 
 
 " There's a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft, 
 
 To keep watch for the life of poor Jack," 
 Merrily sang Mr Major, as he walked (accidentally) by. 
 
 " Stay, Major," said I, " it will be your eight hours in the 
 lee-scuppers to-night; sip a little of this." 
 
 " That's just what the old gunner on board the Grampus used 
 sometimes to say to me," returned the second mate, removing a 
 yard of tobacco from his cheek. " Poor fellow ! I think I see 
 him there now, limping along the deck so nateral." 
 
 " What of the gunner, Major. Let us hear, if the story is 
 not a long one." 
 
 " He was cut off in his prime, sir, like a flower of the 
 walley, or a leg of pickled pork. This was the way of it : 
 One night, as we were cruising off the coast of Africa, we had 
 the luck to fall in with a pirate, who, mistaking us in the dark- 
 ness for a merchantman with a cargo of gold-dust, had the im- 
 pudence to heave to, and give us a taste of her long Tom. She 
 only fired one shot, but that was a fatal one, for it blew my 
 old friend Harry Plops clean away, all but his wooden leg. 
 ' Boarders, be ready,' cried our skipper, leaping jrnst me, 
 cutlass in hand; so, as it was not a time to be nice in the 
 choice of tools, I snatched up my old messmate's timber toe, 
 jumped on board the schooner, and was just in time to knock 
 the pirate captain over one of his own hatchways with it. 
 Your healths, gentlemen, and thank you 1" 
 
 " They are making pretty merry there, for'ard," remarked 
 Captain Tophamper to me by and by. " Whose voice is that, 
 steward?" 
 
 " The cook's, sir ; they've voted him into the chair." 
 
 Here there was a great uproar and clinking of cans, and 
 then a dead silence prevailed, after which Mr Slops, who was 
 a thorough " old salt," was heard to warble the following 
 plaintive ditty, for the composition of which, I believe, I must 
 render myself responsible: 
 
 " 'Twas the middle watch, o'er the moonlit wave 
 
 The gallant frigate sprung, 
 "While each tar troll'd out a cheerful stave, 
 And here are the lays they sung: 
 
40 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 The first was the father of all the tars, 
 
 And he'd weather'd many a gale; 
 His head was one lump of wounds and scars, 
 
 And he wore a yard of tail. 
 Quoth he to his messmates ' Hark'e, boys 
 
 (And he turn'd his quid, and cough'd), 
 Just give me, when I weigh anchor here, 
 
 Snug moorings up aloft.' 
 
 This was a tar of the true blue sort, 
 And he sang what a veteran should; 
 
 For although his song was rather short, 
 The sentiment was good. 
 
 The next was a younger tar than he, 
 
 Though his hair was grizzled and grey; 
 His nose was all knobs, like a tough oak-tree, 
 
 And each eye look'd a different way. 
 Quoth he, ' Give me a Frenchman stout, 
 
 So a health to Mounseer Frog! 
 Here's a prize where'er we cruise about, 
 
 And a good stiff glass of grog ! ' 
 Then he roll'd his quid, and smiled around, 
 
 And raised the foaming cup, 
 And a long deep sigh was the only sound, 
 
 As he turn'd it bottom up. 
 
 A jovial tar was this, I wot, 
 And an honest heart had he, 
 
 But one or two things he had forgot, 
 So he's not the tar for me. 
 
 The next was a youth with a dark eye, which 
 
 He wink'd in a knowing way, 
 Then he gave his canvas togs a hitch, 
 
 And sang this cheery lay 
 ' Here's a tight little lass, boys, on one's knee, 
 
 And something, too, to sip, 
 But hark'e, messmates, that shall be 
 
 The dew on her rosy lip! 
 And here's a good wide berth to Davy Jones, 
 
 But his billet be a cannon-ball, 
 Then the finest coffin for one's bones 
 
 Is the sea, boys, after all! ' 
 
 The boatswain's whistle cut them short, 
 But I think you will all agree 
 
 That this was a tar of the genuine sort, 
 And the jolliest of the three." 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 41 
 
 A hearty applause greeted this select effusion. The surly 
 Mr Tongs, however, appeared to have little relish for such 
 vocal entertainments. 
 "Forecastle, there!" 
 " Ay, ay, sir." 
 
 " Less noise, if you please. Let's have none of this cater- 
 wauling here; if you want something to do, you'd better bring 
 your bucket, and slush down this mainmast." 
 
 The mention of the word caterwauling, by the by, brings to 
 my recollection another little circumstance which occurred 
 about this time, and I think ought to find place among other 
 matters in my log. 
 
 I was pacing the deck one dark and squally night, when I 
 heard, as I supposed (for I knew not what else it could be), 
 a mermaid singing, and called Mr Major, whose watch it was, 
 to come and listen. Mr Major got quite frightened, and 
 declared that he had never heard anything so queer before. 
 " Call Tongs./' said I; and he called him. Tongs said it must 
 be a spirit, and went down for Captain Tophamper; and then 
 the steward went down for Mr O'Toole, who made his appear- 
 ance in a dressing-gown and sou'wester; and at length one by 
 one the whole crew gathered about us, all looking over the 
 brig's side, and listening to the mysterious sounds, which 
 appeared to issue from some spot just under the main-chains. 
 Now they were like the soft tones of a delicate female voice; 
 now like the plaintive wail of an ^Eolian lyre; now like the 
 scream of some savage animal; now soft and low again like 
 a child being lulled to sleep and then there came an awful 
 snarl that made us all jump. At the same moment a black 
 object leaped suddenly over the quarter into the midst of the 
 terror-stricken group, and scoured away along the deck with 
 the speed of lightning. For a second or two consternation sat 
 upon every face. 
 
 "It's that confounded cat!" cried the mate, savagely, "I 
 flung him overboard, as I supposed, a day or two since. Do you 
 hear anything now, Mr Log?" but I was already descending 
 the companion on the way to my berth. 
 
42 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 HEAP THE SEVENTH. 
 
 The four or five days which contrary winds compelled us 
 to spend in the Gulf of St Lawrence were among the most 
 miserable that I had known since I had left England. True, 
 we had escaped the dangers of a collision with icebergs, but 
 the weather was cold, raw, and foggy; we were not able to 
 have a fire in the cabin, in consequence of a heavy sea having 
 taken a fancy to the stove funnel, and gone away with it; the 
 deck was too wet and slippery to admit of our walking on it 
 with any comfort; the captain was in an ill-temper; and the 
 mate a perfect Tartar. We had every inducement to be gloomy, 
 and none to be gay. I was not sorry, therefore, when Mr Chin 
 came into my berth one morning, and told me that a favourable 
 breeze had sprung up during the night, that we had doubled 
 Cape Rozier, were now cruising along the shores of the dange- 
 rous island of Anticosti, and, if we were lucky, should have a 
 pilot on board in less than half an hour. 
 
 At Cape Chat, accordingly, we signalled a pilot, and I was 
 one of the party to assist in lugging him up the brig's side. 
 He was a tall, spare, fresh-coloured man, with black curly 
 hair; blue greatcoat and trousers; tarpaulin hat; and a pair 
 of immense jack-boots, which reached almost to his chin. I 
 had never beheld such boots, nor had Mr Tongs, who looked 
 at them, felt them, walked after them, and finally (the pilot 
 consenting) got into them ; but, as he was scarcely discernible 
 over their tops, and the supercargo, captain, and myself 
 laughed until we shed tears, he withdrew his tendered six 
 dollars, and went forward to vent his chagrin upon some of the 
 crew. The pilot had brought us a newspaper or two, some soft 
 bread, and (what were particular delicacies) a few newly -laid 
 eggs; as he had carried those dainties in his greatcoat pocket, 
 however, and had been so inconsiderate as to sit upon them 
 once or twice, at Mr Chin's suggestion they were allowed to 
 remain there. 
 
 Of the scenery from Green Island to Quebec, I have neither 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 43 
 
 the inclination nor the assurance to attempt a description. 
 Pen cannot describe it, brush cannot paint it; the poet and 
 the artist must throw both away in despair. In the whole 
 course of my wanderings at home and abroad, I had never 
 beheld anything so beautiful. The pure sky above us ; the 
 magnificent St Lawrence beneath and beyond; the majestic 
 ships, that, with white wings spread, bore their wealth over 
 its azure bosom; the loveliness of the shores, strewn with many 
 a picturesque village and exquisite little church, their tin 
 taper spires peeping from the green foliage, and twinkling in 
 the sunlight; the bold, dark outline of the stately mountains 
 on either side of us; all these together formed a glorious 
 picture that I gazed on with wonder and delight, and for a 
 moment was disposed to regard less as a thing of reality, than 
 as the idle mockery of some bright day-dream which had 
 borrowed its hues from heaven. 
 
 "What are those tall, stiff, straight piles of stone?" asked 
 I of the pilot. " Monuments ? or is it a churchyard ?" 
 
 " No, by gar," said the pilot, depositing a steel tobacco-box 
 in his right boot ; " dem is vot you call chimneys." 
 
 " Chimneys ? But where are the houses belonging to 
 them ? " 
 
 The pilot shrugged his shoulders " Gone, monsieur; grand 
 feu! build up again by and by." 
 
 " You have heard of a snake fence," said Captain Top- 
 hamper, handing his glass to Mr O'Toole, " that's one yonder, 
 and an ugly thing it is; you will not see many quickset hedges 
 here." 
 
 The supercargo looked through the telescope, and then 
 handed it to me. The contemplation of a snake fence (which 
 is an affair constructed of some thousands of scraggy pine logs, 
 put together without much regard to either picturesqueness 
 or regularity) did not inspire me with any particular amount 
 of admiration. 
 
 "And is that a Canadian farm?" said I. "If so, why do 
 they chop down all the trees?" 
 
 " It's their way," replied Captain Tophamper, " and they 
 
44 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 deserve to be keel-hauled for it. There's that fine island of 
 Orleans I remember it a perfect paradise, and now it's as 
 bald as a baby's head. Hallo! who cut off that cat's tail?" 
 
 This turned out to be a performance of Mr Chin's. The 
 steward, who was a man of strong observatory powers, had 
 noticed that the appendage alluded to, in consequence of its 
 extreme prominence and liability to be seized upon by the 
 captain and crew, proved rather an encumbrance to his favour- 
 ite than otherwise; so he had served Felix precisely as Alci- 
 biades served his dog. And when, in addition to the absence 
 of the ornament in question, I mention that the cat possessed 
 but half an ear, and had lost his right eye (the mate having 
 one day, in a passion, struck it out with a marlinespike), the 
 reader will be able to form a tolerably correct estimate of that 
 distinguished animal's attractions. 
 
 How my heart beat, and what a thrill of rapture shot through 
 my veins, when at length, after having spent upwards of five- 
 and-forty days upon the deep, and gazed at little but sky and 
 water, our gallant brig rounded a point of land, and Quebec, 
 with its tin roofs, and spires, and cupolas, gleaming in the 
 yellow light of the setting sun, burst upon my dazzled gaze ! 
 It was like a scene in some fairy tale. To my right, wreath- 
 ing themselves like a myriad of milk-white snakes down the 
 dark, perpendicular rock, appeared the sublime Falls of Mont- 
 morenci; to my left, stretched Point Levi, rich in verdure; 
 before me gleamed the city; far up the height might be seen 
 the plains of Abraham, where the brave Montcalm lay sleep- 
 ing ; beneath, was the slippery crag at whose foot the daring 
 Montgomery fell, pierced by a score of bullets; and in the 
 distance I caught a glimpse of the dizzy steep up which the 
 gallant and lamented Wolfe climbed to glory and an early 
 grave. I turned hastily round to look for some kindred soul 
 that could reciprocate my enthusiasm, but the captain and 
 supercargo had gone below ; Mr Major and his myrmidons 
 were busy in the forecastle making the necessary preparations 
 to let go the anchor; and my worthy friend, Mr Tongs, was 
 leaning pensively over the quarter, casting envious and ena- 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 45 
 
 moured glances at the notorious jack-boots, as they sprang into 
 the captain's gig, and were rowed rapidly to the shore. 
 
 HEAP THE EIGHTH. 
 
 " All ready there, for'ard?" 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir." 
 
 "Let go!" 
 
 A hoarse, sullen, rumbling sound, like the roar of distant 
 artillery, broke the stillness of the evening; the heavy anchor 
 plunged into the blue depths beneath us; and the voyage was 
 ended. There was a knock at my state-room door. It was 
 Mr Chin. 
 
 "Boat going ashore, sar; captain waiting. No time to 
 shave now." 
 
 A few minutes afterwards, there was another knock, and 
 then I heard the voice of Captain Tophamper. 
 
 " Now, then, who's for shore ? Where's Mr Log ? " 
 
 " Here," said I, rushing hastily to the deck, scrambling 
 down the brig's side, and jumping into the boat. Mr O'Toole, 
 in a similar state of dishabille, had just jumped in also. 
 " Give way, my lads, give way," cried the skipper, springing 
 to the stern sheets, and taking the tiller under his arm; and 
 away we dashed in the direction of the tin- topped city. Three 
 hundred feet above us, perched upon the edge of a dizzy 
 precipice, frowned the citadel of Quebec. The sentry, with 
 his bright bayonet flashing, was gazing over the ramparts, and 
 looked like a red insect shouldering a rather large silver tooth- 
 pick. I had not leisure for further observation, as in another 
 moment the boat touched the wharf, and I leaped ashore. 
 Everything here appeared to be on the roll, and I was com- 
 pelled to seize the arm of Mr O'Toole, who in his turn seized 
 that of Captain Tophamper, and we all three proceeded up the 
 street together. As the captain and supercargo had to seek 
 out the consignees of the vessel, and report her at the custom- 
 
46 WH1TTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 house, we then "parted company," and agreed to meet once 
 more on board the Golightly towards midnight. 
 
 The city of Quebec consists of an Upper Town and a Lower. 
 I found myself in the latter. A board, placed wrong way up- 
 wards upon a wall, announced the rue St Pierre ; and a brisk 
 shower coming on, I began to look for shelter. In an instant, 
 half a dozen, or more, thin, lanky French Canadians, mounted 
 each upon an eccentric, tumble-down species of conveyance, 
 termed a caleche or calash drove up, and nearly over me, 
 under the impression that I required their services. I shook 
 my head; but they persisted in it that I could do nothing with- 
 out them, and, pointing to their broken-winded and spavined 
 steeds, cried, " Bon horse, monsieur;" " Good trot;" " Devil to 
 go;" "Bon caleche." These recommendations having caused 
 me to smile, two of the most energetic of the party, to decide 
 the priority of claim to my patronage, resorted to whips and 
 fisticuffs. The battle was soon over; an elderly traveller hove 
 in sight round a distant corner, and the whole seven of the 
 calash drivers, jumping with the speed of lightning into their 
 crazy vehicles, cracked their whips, stamped their feet, yelled 
 a kind of shrill war-whoop, and charged down in a body upon 
 the unfortunate gentleman, who, to escape instant macadami- 
 sation, ran into a pastry-cook's shop, and slammed the door 
 violently in their faces. 
 
 A calash appeared to me to be an affair constructed for the 
 express purpose of baffling all powers of description. It has 
 two uncouth wheels, and something at the back like a ship's 
 taffrail ; this is provided with a shallow shelf, but, as there is no- 
 thing whatever to hold on by (except the driver), experience 
 alone can initiate a person into the art of maintaining his seat 
 upon it. The process of alighting is about the easiest part of 
 the business. The proprietor pulls up all at once there is a 
 sudden jerk and you are shot out instantly, in place of 
 having to undergo the embarrassment of a descent by the 
 step. The drivers themselves have wonderful nerve, and 
 never grow disconcerted, happen what may. I once saw a 
 calash tumble over on its side, and it seemed to get along 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 47 
 
 quite as comfortably for a few hundred yards in that way as 
 in any other. The velocity, too, with which they dart round 
 corners is perfectly appalling; but I suppose the foot-passen- 
 gers are used to these surprises, and don't mind them. 
 
 It began to rain, I said; not as it rains in England the 
 drops were the size of quarter-dollar pieces, and six of them 
 were a wetting. I saw a great many tall spare men running 
 about the street, clad in curious oil-skin garments of a bright 
 and flaring yellow; and I noticed one fine big-whiskered 
 Canadian in a white blanket coat, with sky-blue facings, and 
 blood-red epaulettes. I took shelter in a dry goods store : there 
 are no shops in the New World. The proprietor of it, who was 
 an Englishman, " guessed " that I was from the " old country." 
 He said the shower would be over in less than five minutes, 
 and then the clouds would roll away, the sun burst out, and 
 we should have a glorious evening. 
 
 In the time specified, accordingly, it was fair again, and the 
 sky bluer than ever. Not being much fascinated with the 
 Lower Town, I inquired for Mountain Street, which I under- 
 stood led to the Upper. The appellation which has been 
 bestowed upon this street is a particularly appropriate one. 
 I had climbed Skiddaw, and scaled Helvellyn, and would al- 
 most have preferred the second ascent of either, to my present 
 undertaking. But I was determined to accomplish it,- as I 
 knew (if Weld, and Hamilton, and Buckingham, and Basil 
 Hall, and Captain Marryatt, were to be credited) there was 
 a scene at hand which would amply remunerate me for my 
 trouble; so I pushed vigorously on, passed the guard-house, 
 and the theatre, arid the English church ; turned abruptly to 
 the left, and presently stood upon the celebrated " platform," 
 the lounge and promenade of Quebec. 
 
 I was not disappointed. My imagination had fallen far 
 short of the reality; and that reality was such, that I feel the 
 handsomest compliment I can pay it will be not to describe ; 
 though I may just observe, that, in the sleeping valley beneath, 
 perfect pictures of beauty and repose, a hundred graceful ships 
 lay at anchor; among which I could distinguish the Golightly, 
 
48 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 the British ensign flying gaily at her peak, and her taper yards, 
 tinged by the yellow beams of the setting sun, looking like 
 golden steps to some region of bliss. There is a description of 
 scenery that palls upon the sight, but from the platform at 
 Quebec may be beheld one of those gorgeous spectacles 
 of which the eye and heart can never tire. A convincing 
 proof of this interesting fact I read in the countenances of 
 most of those people who had congregated upon the spot that 
 night. They had come evidently with the intention of sauntering 
 to and fro, and enjoying a litttle friendly chat with their neigh- 
 bours; but, though they had lived, many half, and others all, 
 their lives in Quebec, and seen the same thing perhaps every 
 day, still they became drawn by some invisible agency to the 
 edge of the steep, and releasing each other's arms, began to 
 contemplate the majestic mountains and peaceful river with as 
 much earnestness and delight, as though it was the first time a 
 scene so noble had ever greeted their admiring gaze. 
 
 Quitting the platform, I found myself in a quiet, retired, 
 shady garden, where there were few people, and where the 
 soft evening air (thanks to the late shower) was impregnated 
 with a most delicious scent of sweet-briar. The view from this 
 garden pleased me quite as much as that from the platform 
 and, indeed, rather more so, as the Lower Town (which is de- 
 cidedly nasty) was no longer visible ; and the placid St Law- 
 rence, distant villages, and background of bold mountains, 
 looked all the lovelier through the fresh green foliage of the 
 fine trees that were just bursting into bloom. Hard by me 
 stood a handsome monument to the memory of Wolfe and 
 Montcalm, either side of which bore a long Latin inscription, 
 and I was in some degree amused with the efforts of two lady- 
 visiters to decipher it. One of them, pointing upwards with a 
 plethoric umbrella, threw a great light on the subject by ob- 
 serving slowly, " There's a e, and 'ere's a hi but lauk, Sarah, 
 ain't it beautiful?" Sarah assented at once, and down they 
 both sat upon a rustic bench, to contemplate the wonder more 
 at their ease, and give vent to fresh bursts of enthusiasm. 
 
 I experienced less difficulty in getting down Mountain Street, 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 49 
 
 than I did in getting up it. I commenced the descent slowly 
 and carefully, but, in spite of all my caution, from a walk I 
 broke into a trot, and from a trot into a run, and had it not 
 been for the kind interposition of a gallant soldier who dived 
 suddenly out of the guard-house to my relief r I must have made 
 my way down a long flight of stone steps, and accomplished the 
 passage back into St Peter's Street, with a much greater dis- 
 play of velocity than would have been either prudent or graceful. 
 
 Upon returning on board the Golightly, I found Mr Chin 
 sitting upon the after- hatch way, with a sponge in his hand, 
 and Felix upon his knee. The animal had met with another 
 accident, which threatened the welfare of his remaining organ 
 of vision, and the steward was applying a fomentation. 
 
 " Have the captain and Mr O'Toole got back," I inquired. 
 
 "No, sir; hark! there they are now." 
 
 " Lend a hand here, somebody," cried the voice of Mr 
 O'Toole. 
 
 I looked over the brig's side, and grasped Captain Top- 
 hamper by the arm. I pulled lustily Mr O'Toole pushed 
 and we escorted our jovial commander into the cabin. He 
 was smiling in the most winning and'agreeable manner possible, 
 and I turned for an explanation to the supercargo. 
 
 "I can't say," returned Mr O'Toole; "he is in a very good 
 humour, that is all I know. He has been smiling in this way 
 for more than hour. Speak to him." 
 
 I did, but received no reply. " He is quite sober," I re- 
 marked. 
 
 " Sober as a judge," said the supercargo; "he's merry, though 
 very merry indeed." 
 
 " We had better get him into his berth," said I; and it was 
 done; but Captain Tophamper was smiling still, and in that 
 cheering state he must have fallen asleep, for he was smiling 
 at an early hour the next morning, though the expression of 
 his features changed as the Golightly weighed anchor, and, 
 grasping his hand warmly, I parted with him for ever. A 
 kinder-hearted man, and a better sailor, never trod a deck; but 
 he has found a grave in the depths of the wide Pacific, and will 
 
 D 
 
50 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 not waken more till the last dread trump shall sound, and the 
 sea give up her dead. 
 
 TO A ; 
 
 FROM THE BANKS OF THE ST LAWRENCE. 
 
 'Tis England's spring; among her boughs, 
 The young wild birds are leaping; 
 
 And from the warm, green, gladsome earth, 
 The primroses are peeping. 
 
 The welcome leaves are budding out 
 
 On every bush and spray; 
 The blackbird in the hawthorn-tree 
 
 Sings half the livelong day. 
 
 When earth revives, and loads the air 
 
 With every balmy scent, 
 Alas for those who sigh within 
 
 The dull, close city pent ! 
 
 But thoughts at least are fetterless, 
 
 And mine still fondly roam, 
 And linger, like eve's golden clouds, 
 
 Around your happy home. 
 
 I will not fail to love the spot, 
 
 Nor cease to think of you, 
 As long as myrtle leaves are green, 
 
 And violets are blue. 
 
 What moments we've together seen 
 
 Of mingled bliss and pain; 
 Alas ! alas ! 'twere sweet to have 
 
 Their very gloom again. 
 
 I trace these melancholy lines 
 
 To while a weary hour; 
 So think upon me, as you sit 
 
 Within your summer bower. 
 
 for Prince Ali's magic tube, 
 
 To gaze upon you there! 
 And to wander by your side, 
 
 And breathe the evening air ! 
 Vain thoughts, and hopeless wishes all, 
 
 When, but in fancy free, 
 The wide Atlantic's waters roll 
 
 Between that home and me ! 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 51 
 
 HEAP THE NINTH. 
 
 I had been recommended to take up my quarters at Payne's 
 Hotel; but Payne's Hotel was a big, bustling place, and I pre- 
 ferred retirement and quiet. With the view of securing these 
 two comforts, I visited a variety of genteel streets in which 
 apartments were to be obtained, but, not finding any to my 
 taste, repaired to the neighbourhood of the Battery. I knocked 
 at the door of a neat house with green blinds, and inquired for 
 Miss Priscilla Partlet, and Miss Priscilla herself responded to 
 the knock. " Had she accommodation, &c. &c." " Yes ; would 
 I walk in ? That was the sitting-room ; a delightful view of 
 the St Lawrence from the bow window ; and if I would have 
 the goodness to step up-stairs, she would show me the dormi- 
 tories." I did so, and entered one. Miss Priscilla, however, 
 modestly remained outside. "Ah, but how is this?" said I; 
 "here are five beds." "Yes," replied she; "there is Mr 
 Small, the member; young Tucker, the artist; Lieutenant 
 Rowdy ; and Doctor Panakin ; the fifth bed is unoccupied at 
 present." I said, " 0, indeed !" and, with all due deference to 
 Mr Small, the member; young Tucker, the artist; Lieutenant 
 Rowdy; and Doctor Panakin (one of which select party was 
 now visible with his long delicate legs protruding about three 
 quarters of a yard beyond his prescribed limits of counterpane), 
 declined the honour of their nocturnal acquaintance. My next 
 application was more successful. Mademoiselle Millefleurs, a 
 sprightly young French Canadian lady, could oblige me with 
 everything that I required, and we came to terms on the spot. 
 She thought it prudent, however, to inform me that she had a 
 rich old gentleman boarding with her, who was somewhat 
 flighty at times, and said and did queer things; but he was 
 quite harmless only playful a little playful. As there was 
 nothing objectionable in a little playfulness, I closed the en- 
 gagement with Mademoiselle at once, handed her a reference, 
 sent down to Payne's for my luggage or plunder, as Ameri- 
 cans term it and then started for a stroll until dinner-time. 
 
52 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 The French Canadians, or " habitans," as they are generally 
 called, are the politest people in the world. Two of the 
 humblest of them meeting in the street, shake hands with the 
 utmost elegance, and, addressing each other as "Monsieur," 
 raise their blue nightcaps, and bow with a grace that is per- 
 fectly enchanting. They rejoice in frock coats and nether 
 garments of a bilious grey, patronise long picturesque boots of 
 a sombre black, and wear about their waists handsome sashes 
 of a gaudy red, which are sometimes profusely decorated with 
 coloured beads. But the gesticulations of the men, when in 
 conversation, are so energetic, that several times I suspected 
 parties of them to be quarrelling, and bent upon mutual 
 slaughter. This was only their way, I was told. They are a 
 harmless, indolent, contented race of people, and seemed to be 
 on good terms with the English who are resident among them. 
 
 Monsieur Bonbon, the playful gentleman (to whom Made- 
 moiselle introduced me when dinner was announced), certainly 
 had eccentricities. He was a corpulent personage, and wore a 
 little dusty brown wig, the size of a sparrow's nest; which, 
 having no fastening, slipped about wherever the humour took 
 it first over his right eye, then over his left ear, and then into 
 his plate. When grace was being said by the Rev. Mr Tombs 
 of Connecticut, Monsieur Bonbon flopped down with the most 
 moving solemnity upon his knees, and, having subsequently 
 neglected to get up again, had to be hoisted to his legs by the 
 assembled company. Mr Tombs and I soon became acquainted, 
 and entered into conversation. He had a long, thin, white 
 face, and wore his hair all tucked away behind his ears, as 
 though it would not be wanted till by and by. He made use 
 of some peculiar phraseology, but did not " guess" much. He 
 patronised a quiet bit of "honey-dew" occasionally, however, 
 for I saw him take out his box, and push a portion of its con- 
 tents surreptitiously into his cheek. He said there was no par- 
 ticular credit due to Wolfe. When the news was brought to 
 Montcalm that the English general had carried the heights, 
 Montcalm only laughed, and treated the matter as a joke, in- 
 stead of sallying out at once, and cutting Wolfe and his little 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 53 
 
 army to pieces ; or, what would have been wiser, retiring into 
 the citadel, and standing a siege. Mr Tombs furthermore 
 stated, that if so and so had but taken place, such and such a 
 thing would not have occurred, and then somebody would have 
 found himself in an awkward "fix;" to which I replied, that 
 life is made up of apparent accidents and oversights, and a man 
 is not to be judged by what he didn't, but rather by what he 
 did ; and that, if Montcalm made a mistake, Wolfe was right in 
 availing himself of it, &c. &c. &c. The argument was here in- 
 terrupted by Monsieur Bonbon, the playful gentleman, who 
 stalked mysteriously to my chair, and whispered, in a hollow 
 tone, " Don't mind him mind me, not him; 11 so I assured Mon- 
 sieur that I would not fail to comply with his kind suggestion, 
 and began to amuse myself by drawing out my plans for the 
 morrow. 
 
 But the morrow drew out plans for itself. I was seized with 
 the Canadian cholera. I inquired the name of the most scien- 
 tific medical practitioner in the neighbourhood, and, hearing 
 that Dr Panakin's professional fame stood high, despatched a 
 lackey for him; but, in return, received a polite intimation that 
 Dr Panakin (who had a talent for music) was in the middle of 
 a difficult vocal duet with a married lady, and would not be 
 disengaged for some time. I asked how long attacks of this 
 nature usually lasted, and was told that some persons were in- 
 disposed for two days, others for ten, and many for upwards of 
 three weeks or a month; that people were always taken with 
 something of the kind on their first arrival in Canada, and it 
 was brought on by drinking of the St Lawrence water; but 
 whether they drank of the St Lawrence water or not, they were 
 sure to be laid up sooner or later, and the only remedies were 
 patience and water-gruel. Mademoiselle, nevertheless, pro- 
 cured me some burned brandy and sugar, which she said was a 
 capital thing, and I promised to give it a trial. 
 
 As I was revolving the anticipated unpleasantness of a long 
 confinement in the house, Monsieur Bonbon entered, and, seat- 
 ing himself upon a rocking-chair precisely opposite me, began 
 to counterfeit the agonies of a person in the last stage of 
 
54 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 cholera. My good -nature (of which I possess even at the best 
 of times but a scanty portion) was scarcely proof against the 
 infliction of so unseasonable a piece of pantomime; and, grasp- 
 ing a heavy footstool, I was about to launch it at the French 
 gentleman's head, when, with a shrewdness of which I had 
 scarcely believed him capable, he read my intention, skipped 
 pleasantly towards the tumbler of burned brandy, drained it to 
 the very dregs, and then, with a graceful kiss of the hand and 
 wave of his wig, disappeared. 
 
 The next morning found me better, and, sallying gaily out, 
 I went through the citadel, over the works, and upon Cape 
 Diamond. In the evening I visited the Plains of Abraham, 
 and stood upon the spot where the gallant Wolfe received his 
 mortal wound, and breathed forth his soul. I afterwards 
 strolled to the steep up which he led his men, and dragged the 
 heavy cannon. It is a formidable one, and the head that could 
 plan such a surprise was worthy of the spirit that achieved it. 
 
 And it was with equal delight and interest that I listened to 
 tales of Montcalm's cool intrepidity. He was an accomplished 
 general, but, alas (for there will be an alas in the history of 
 even earth's greatest), his strange conduct at Ticonderoga has 
 left upon his memory a stain which the laurel leaves of victory 
 can never hide. 
 
 It was evening. If I had deemed the Rev. Mr Tombs of 
 Connecticut by any means a sharp and intelligent man, Master 
 Washington Tombs, his son and heir, was in every respect 
 worthy of his sire. He was a young gentleman of about nine 
 years of age, and three feet in height, and wore a species of 
 knee-breeches, of a style and arrangement which struck me as 
 being somewhat primitive and peculiar. His ear, like his 
 parent's, served (to use a nautical figure) as a sort of belay ing- 
 pin to his hair, behind and around which that was all carefully 
 coiled away. The young lady boarders patted his head, and 
 called him a "little dear," a "sweet child," and so forth; but 
 emigrated from the sofa, nevertheless, on the cushion of which 
 the interesting boy had commenced a series of spirited somer- 
 sets. He executed five or six very cleverly, but, on wishing to 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 55 
 
 indulge in a seventh, had to undergo earnest expostulation at 
 the hands of Mademoiselle Millefleurs and other ladies, as the 
 recreation was discovered to have resulted in the temporary 
 dishevelment of some portion of the young gentleman's attire. 
 Debarred from the further enjoyment of sx) refreshing a pas- 
 time, therefore, Master Washington brought his eyes suddenly 
 to bear upon myself, and observed, " I guess you're a Britisher." 
 I pleaded guilty. He paused a second, and then continued, 
 "We're an almighty people, we are; our country will whip 
 yours afore long." I should not enter this brief (though cer- 
 tainly not pointless) conversation among my other memoranda, 
 did I not deem it of vital import to the interests and welfare of 
 the mother country. I regard the physical and intellectual de- 
 velopments of this heroic child as emblems of the rising genius 
 and greatness of his fatherland. What is America, but a boy, 
 who, in the exuberance of his vigour and playfulness, is throw- 
 ing somersets, and kicking up his heels in the face of the whole 
 world ! Let Britons beware. 
 
 My health, which had received a severe shock, being now 
 quite restored, I engaged a calash, and started one sunny 
 morning for the Falls o/ Montmorenci. I had sundry mis- 
 givings as to what was to be the result of my rashness in ven- 
 turing to deposit myself in a calash, but the conveyance was at 
 the door, and I jumped without more ado to the shelf prepared 
 for my reception. " Marchez ! marchez!" cried the driver, 
 whose name was Pierre, to the horse, whose name was Bona- 
 parte, and away we went over a post and a pig against a 
 corner under an archway down Mountain Street along St 
 Peter Street and out at the suburbs by the banks of the river 
 St Charles. A frightful scene of desolation met my eye, for 
 that portion of the city had lately been visited by an extensive 
 conflagration, and was one melancholy heap of ruins. The 
 flames had consumed the houses, but, as usual, left the chim- 
 neys standing. There was little in such a locality to charm or 
 cheer, and I was glad when Pierre, and Bonaparte, and I, had 
 got out of it. 
 
 The scenery momentarily improved. We passed a pretty 
 
56 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 little bridge, and, shortly afterwards, a diminutive but pictu- 
 resque waterfall, which made a pleasant murmur. Had it not 
 been for the unsightly snake fences, and the attendant baldness 
 they imparted to the face of the country, I could almost have 
 imagined that I was being whirled along one of the less re- 
 spectable of our English high-roads. 
 
 "Heyday! what is the meaning of this?" cried I presently 
 to Pierre, as Bonaparte came to a sudden halt, with his fore- 
 legs stuck out obstinately a yard in advance of his body, his 
 ears laid perfectly flat upon his head, and his rat tail tucked in 
 so tightly, that he did not appear to possess any tail at all. 
 Pierre was pitched over the dashboard, and I was lying on the 
 wheel. I inquired of the driver, who spoke a little broken 
 English, what such a freak on the part of the animal was in- 
 tended to imply. He said it was a way Bonaparte had got, 
 but that he'd " come to" shortly. I asked how long he believed 
 the fit would last. He said, sometimes the beast " came to" in 
 five minutes, and sometimes in an hour. There was another 
 calash in our rear, which had been compelled to pull up, as the 
 road was narrow, and had a deep ditch on either side. Pierre 
 sprang out, produced a bunch of lucifer matches, lighted a 
 small wisp of hay, and held it under Bonaparte's flank. The 
 Emperor recovered himself in an instant, gave a shrill neigh, 
 flung out savagely with his hind-legs, and darted away at full 
 gallop. Pierre, with very red cheeks, scrambled over the back 
 part of the calash, and in less than five-and-twenty minutes we 
 reached the Falls of Montmorenci. 
 
 I had a letter of introduction to Mr Patterson, who owned 
 most of the property in the neighbourhood of the falls, and I 
 had another to Mr Holl, his son-in-law. I alighted, discharged 
 Pierre and Bonaparte, and proceeded on foot to the mansion, 
 which is finely situated. Mr Patterson was from home, but 
 Mr Holl was to be found below. I heard the^roar of the tum- 
 bling water, and making the best of my way down a precipi- 
 tous winding path which led to the foot of the cataract, over- 
 took a lean old gentleman, who was perseveringly endeavour- 
 ing to climb the side of a very dangerous and slippery crag. I 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 57 
 
 doubled the angle of the cliff with some difficulty, looked 
 admiringly up, and saw a majestic body of water, of about 
 twenty yards in width, wreathing itself elegantly down a dark 
 perpendicular rock, of between two and three hundred feet in 
 height. The sun was pouring his beams immediately upon it, 
 and a bow of surpassing loveliness lent additional beauty to the 
 scene. A shout from some person near caused me to face 
 about. The elderly gentleman whom I had overtaken, was 
 standing upon a narrow shelf of rock, holding on with intense 
 desperation by a fast-yielding twig, and imploring my assist- 
 ance; for he could neither get up nor down, nor, to all appear- 
 ance, remain much longer where he was. I made as much 
 haste as I could over the sharp jagged stones, to his relief, but 
 was too late to render him any material service ; he fell a dis- 
 tance of about seven feet, much scratched, and wet to the skin. 
 I raised him to his legs, hoped he was not hurt, and he took 
 my arm, gazing all the while with a sort of sublime horror at 
 his white hat, which, manned by, and under the careful super- 
 intendence of, a large heap of froth, was gliding peacefully 
 away to join the St Lawrence, a quarter of a mile below. 
 
 Mr Holl told me that the Fails of Montmorenci were the 
 highest in Canada, and that I was very fortunate in having 
 visited them in the spring, as the body of water is always 
 greatest at that season of the year. " In winter," continued 
 he, " this spot is the favourite resort of hundreds of people, who 
 come for the express purpose and gratification of shooting down 
 the ice-cone, which is formed by the ascending spray, and 
 assumes a shape similar to that of a loaf of sugar. They clam- 
 ber to the top of it, fi$ themselves securely, chest downwards, 
 upon little sledges, termed by the Indians ' tarboggins/ thrust 
 their chins over the edge, kick up their heels, and away they 
 go, like a bolt from a cross-bow; the impetus they gather in 
 the descent being sufficient to propel them afterwards a hun- 
 dred yards or more over the level ice below." I inquired if 
 the amusement was attended with any danger. " Oh. no," 
 replied Mr Holl, laughing, "none whatever: for if you slip off 
 the tarboggin, or steer unskilfully, you merely get your clothes 
 
58 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 torn, and become the subject of a little harmless merriment. 
 And it is interesting now and then to watch the concern of 
 certain nervous individuals who have been seduced to the sum- 
 mit of the cone, under the supposition that they can get down 
 again by simply retracing their steps ; a mistake that is to be 
 remedied solely by the tarboggin." I understood also, that 
 there was a tradition current of a heavy gentleman having, 
 one moonlight evening some winters ago, been persuaded to 
 make the descent, and never having turned up anywhere since, 
 to the great discomfiture of a few select friends and acquaint- 
 ances, with whom he was rather a favourite. 
 
 We remounted the cliff. It was a long and serious business, 
 and demanded a degree of nerve second only to that required 
 in the ascent of Mountain Street. We crossed a bridge, and 
 Mr Holl requested me not to gaze in the direction of the cata- 
 ract till he gave me permission. Pie led me round to the left 
 wing of the precipice, from which the finest view is to be ob- 
 tained, and then told me to look. I needed no second invita- 
 tion. We were standing on the brow of the steep. To our 
 right, and immediately beneath us, tossing their sparkling foam 
 into our very faces, were the sublime falls purple, green, and 
 gold ; and around us, in every direction, was spread a semi- 
 civilised country of vast extent and unspeakable grandeur. 
 Hard by this spot, Wolfe made his first attack on Montcalm, 
 but was driven down again with the loss of several hundred 
 men. 
 
 As we returned, Mr Holl pointed to a tree on the left bank 
 of the river, and told me that, a few years since, a French 
 Canadian gentleman of the name of Massue deliberately took 
 off his hat and coat, hung them there, and, jumping into the 
 rapids, allowed himself to be swept over the falls. Suicide, in 
 any shape, is dreadful ; but there was a horrible sublimity in 
 a fate like this, which induces more than an ordinary share of 
 pity for him who was the unhappy victim of it. 
 
 Twenty minutes' perambulation along the sweet and secluded 
 banks of the Montmorenci brought us to the Natural Steps. 
 There is something novel in the idea of a river going down- 
 
WHITTLINGS FKOM THE WEST. 59 
 
 stairs, and I enjoyed the spectacle very much. The Montmo- 
 rer.ci, I suppose (judging from the astounding haste it appeared 
 to be in), had received a violent fright a mile or two above, 
 and its object was to evacuate the premises without loss of time. 
 It was quite laughable to see such immense masses of bubble 
 and foam go leaping down those picturesque crags, tumbling 
 over and breaking each other's necks as they went, and stop- 
 ping a moment afterwards in a corner to roar out lustily, as 
 though they were hurt, till they got kicked on and out of the 
 way by the next party, which, if possible, were in even a greater 
 hurry than any of their predecessors. Mr Holl informed me 
 that a valuable dog of his once fell in there, and was whirled 
 away and down the cataract, unhurt. The animal, however, 
 had the prudence to leave the neighbourhood the next day, 
 and fix his residence in another, some distance from the scene 
 of the disaster. 
 
 Walking briskly on, we came to the outlet of the Fairy 
 River a little rill so called, because it runs for a considerable 
 distance under-ground. It was as clear as crystal, and, bubbling 
 out so stealthily at that spot, reminded me strongly of divers 
 rebelliously-disposed gentlemen who, in troublous times, had 
 effected their escape from gloomy castles and strongholds, by 
 the aid of certain secret subterraneous passages, which had a 
 comfortable communication with the sea. Another quarter of 
 an hour spent in the contemplation of the Natural Steps, ten 
 minutes more at the Falls of Montmorenci, and then, declining 
 an invitation to dine with Mr Holl, and shaking him by the 
 hand, as a person whom I should never behold, nor have the 
 pleasure of conversing with again, I began to bend my steps 
 back to Quebec, which, with its tin roofs and spires flashing 
 in the purple sunlight, looked like something less of earth than 
 of the clear and deep blue glorious heaven above it. 
 
 I was a little weary and footsore, not having taken much 
 previous exercise, and sat down on a heap of stones by the 
 roadside. A middle-aged man, with a most meditative cast of 
 countenance, was sitting on another heap near, pecking at it 
 with a small hammer, and casting an occasional glance upon 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 myself. Not deeming his calling one of the most lucrative in 
 the world, I plucked a quarter dollar from my pocket, and, pre- 
 facing the act with a slight apology, threw it towards him. He 
 very deliberately picked it up, examined the inscription with 
 some curiosity, and threw it back. I begged his pardon for 
 having wounded his feelings, replaced the piece, and ventured 
 to solicit a little of his private history. He laid the hammer 
 across his knee, took off his straw hat, pulled a handkerchief 
 out of its crown, wiped his brow, dabbed the handkerchief into 
 its place again, resumed his covering, and said, " Why, you 
 see, mister, I am only doing this for diversion." 
 
 " Oh, indeed," I replied ; "that's it, eh?" 
 
 " You see I ana getting rayther old and ricketty, and must 
 have some amusement or other, so I took to stone-breaking 
 a line of business which turns me in from three to four dollars 
 a-week, places me above want, and helps me to support an old 
 mother and a couple of grandchilder, God bless 'em!" 
 
 " Ah, then you are a married man?" 
 
 " No; they're none of my raising, but it's the same to me as 
 though they were, for they're my own flesh and blood like." 
 
 ** You have excited my curiosity; let me hear more of them, 
 I beg." 
 
 u Well, as the story is a short one, there will be no harm 
 in my telling it, and I don't mind if I do. You must know, 
 then, that it's eight-and-twenty years since I left old England, 
 and set foot on the soil of Ameriky; for, as my own country 
 denied me bread, I was obliged to seek it in one that I couldn't 
 love better, but was kinder to a hard-working man like me. 
 So I took my passage out in an emigrant ship, but we were 
 blown ashore in a gale on the coast of Newfoundland; and I, 
 and about six others, were all that were saved out of a crew 
 and company of nearly three hundred souls. Through the 
 kindness of a few people there, I was shipped off again to 
 Quebec, where I landed without a sixpence to bless myself 
 with but that's just the way to begin life. As I was an 
 industrious lad, I soon managed to get employment, and, in 
 twelve months, had laid by sufficient to fetch my old mother, 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 61 
 
 who made a point of fancying the ship was going down, and 
 being sick the whole passage; and brought over with her a 
 couple of saucepans, and a chair without any bottom to it, 
 as old ladies always do on these occasions. Well, by means 
 of a little economy, we contrived to get along pretty snugly 
 together ; and, in another twelvemonth's time, I had scraped 
 up enough to pay the passage of my sister, who had married, 
 and been left a widder. with three blessed babbies, and nothing 
 to keep 'em on. 'Cordingly, over they came, when I bought 
 an acre or so of land, cleared it, built a hut and a barn, got a 
 cow and a couple of pigs, and, for a little while, took my 
 pleasure, and lived like a gentleman. But, notwithstanding 
 that everything I laid my hand to prospered, I couldn't help 
 now and then looking back with a sigh to old England, for (as 
 the truth must come out sooner or later), rough and ugly as I 
 may seem to you, there was a kind little heart there, that had 
 promised to remain true to me; and all I had been slaving 
 away these three or four years for, was to place my little gal 
 above want, and provide her with a comfortable home. As 
 there was nothing standing in the way of that now, I got 
 together sufficient to bring her out like a lady, and, in a few 
 weeks, I was to see her smiling face at my board. But that 
 was not a happiness in store for a- poor fellow like me, for she 
 took ill on the passage, and met with nothing but unkindness 
 and ill-treatment from the captain; so she died a day or two 
 before the ship made land, and they heaved her overboard, for 
 all the world as though she had been a dog." 
 
 With the last few words, the stone-breaker wept like a 
 child; a moment afterwards, he seized his hammer, scattered 
 the tears that lay glistening beautifully among the pebbles at 
 his feet, and began to work away again with a reckless energy 
 quite painful to behold. I rose with a sigh, and was walking 
 from the spot, when he looked up, and said he would like to 
 shake my hand before I went; he was an old fool, he knew, 
 but he couldn't help it, and I would forgive him, he dare-say : 
 there, I was to keep straight on for Quebec, and couldn't miss 
 the road. 
 
G2 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 " Here is a noble soul," thought I, as I slowly trudged 
 along; " and if all men acted with as little selfishness, how 
 different would be the state of things, how much less wretched 
 the lot of suffering humanity ! Instead of dedicating the first 
 scanty savings to his own gratifications, he sends for his old 
 mother, and makes her happy; he next sends for his sister, 
 and his sister's children, and makes them happy; and, last of 
 all, he thinks of himself and becomes miserable. Why? 
 Because life is duty; duty is sometimes sorrow; and good- 
 ness and generosity do not always receive their reward in this 
 world. But there is another, in which the poor stone-breaker 
 and his ' little girl ' may perhaps meet again." 
 
 HEAP THE TENTH. 
 
 It was evening, and Mademoiselle wished to know whether 
 I danced, as she generally had a few friends drop in on 
 a Sunday night, and would be happy to make me ac- 
 quainted with them. I told her that I seldom danced on a 
 Sunday; and was about to retire, when the door opened, and 
 half a score of very lively and well-dressed people entered. 
 A quarter of an hour's complimentary conversation ensued, 
 then two sprightly young ladies sat down to the piano, and six 
 or eight others were led out by their respective swains, and 
 formed for a quadrille. They all danced very elegantly, with 
 the solitary exception of Monsieur Bonbon; whose agility being 
 of a nature somewhat analogous to that which might have been 
 expected from a rampant prize ox, was the cause of much 
 merriment. It was amusing, too, when Monsieur Bonbon 
 flung himself into the waltz, to watch the extraordinary capers 
 of his little brown excitable scratch, which persisted in describ- 
 ing sympathetic circles all the while upon his cranium, with a 
 velocity nearly equal to that exhibited by the pewter plate the 
 juggler is wont to balance on the point of his long sword. 
 
 On the opposite side of the room, there sat a dollish-looking 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 63 
 
 young lady, with blue eyes and flaxen hair. In my simplicity, 
 I supposed her to be entering her fourteenth spring, but I was 
 informed that she was a married women and a mother; and 
 that the two delicate little maids, whose united years I con- 
 ceived might possibly amount to twenty-one, had their regular 
 lovers, and were even engaged, as the lowering brows and 
 flashing eyes of two small boys hard by sufficiently testified. 
 *' O yes, and why not ? " said Mademoiselle Millefleurs, smil- 
 ing good-naturedly; to which I echoed, "Why not, indeed 
 why not?" and, seeing that the moon was shining down 
 beautifully upon the St Lawrence, I slipped from the room, 
 seized my hat, and stole leisurely away to the sweetbriar 
 garden upon Cape Diamond. 
 
 As the natural result of my having hinted, a few days pre- 
 viously, to my friend Pierre, of calash notoriety, that I had 
 some intention of paying a visit to Lorette and Lake St Charles 
 shortly, he drove to the door one fine morning, and intimated, 
 by a startling knock and smart crack of his whip, that he 
 awaited my pleasure. I had stoutly protested against allowing 
 Bonaparte to be one of the party, and he had brought another 
 animal in place of that hero; but the beast (which, I learned, 
 was known by the sobriquet of " The Cardinal ") had such a 
 hideous Roman nose and villanous cast of countenance, that I 
 did not feel much prepossessed in his favour. Pierre, how- 
 ever, assured me solemnly that an infant might drive him; so 
 I mounted the calash, and we crawled magnificently away, at 
 a pace to which that of the most sluggish snail would have 
 been actually brilliant. Pierre observed that the Cardinal 
 would go beautifully by and by, as soon as he grew warm : 
 and I felt rather inclined to retort, by saying that the 
 sooner the animal got the chill off him, then, the better for 
 us all. 
 
 Although it was yet May, the thermometer stood at 68. 
 The heat had dried up the road, which was more than a foot 
 deep in ruts, and the jolting exceeded anything I had ever 
 experienced. Pierre's new horse had a method of going upon 
 three legs, and keeping the fourth for emergencies. By dint 
 
64 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 of a great deal of tugging at the reins, and flogging (which 
 he received with a composure worthy of Diogenes himself), 
 Pierre contrived to provoke him into a canter; and, if I may 
 be allowed to draw any inference from the pleasure the inte- 
 resting quadruped suddenly manifested, and the spirit with 
 which he persevered in the pace, I should say it was a mode of 
 locomotion the Cardinal was not previously aware he could be 
 guilty of, and was somewhat impressed in its favour. 
 
 I began now to discover, also, what is meant by a " corduroy 
 road." It is a species of raft consisting of some thousands of 
 trees, generally pine, of all diameters, placed crosswise, and 
 partially covered with soil and stones or whatever may be 
 most convenient and with occasional gaps between the logs, 
 of a width varying from one foot to six. A horse has to 
 plunge clumsily in and out of these gaps, like a ship labouring 
 in a heavy sea; and as for the unfortunate individual who 
 happens to be behind him on these occasions, he becomes a 
 sort of shuttlecock, and the shelf of the calash acts as a battle- 
 dore. He must keep a sharp, calculating eye about him, and 
 when he is tossed up, take care to join the vehicle again as 
 soon as practicable, or there is a probability of his being left 
 in a bog. I wonder Americans suffer themselves to be in- 
 convenienced by dyspepsia, when they have so infallible a 
 remedy close at hand. 
 
 We were now approaching Lake St Charles, coquettish 
 glimpses of which occasional undulations of the ground and 
 openings in the forest foliage presented to my eager gaze. A 
 wilder and more enchanting little lake it would be difficult 
 to find. It appeared to be about three miles in length, by, 
 perhaps, three quarters of one in breadth, and was overhung 
 with banks of picturesque rock and green forest heights. I 
 sent Pierre to regale himself and horse in the best way he 
 could at a lonely log hut, while I, with a young Indian chief, 
 paddled about at our pleasure. The red youth was of the 
 Huron tribe, and came from Lorette. He had the politeness 
 to offer me a seat in his canoe. I accepted it, stepped 
 cautiously in, and he shoved off. The canoe (it was, more 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 65 
 
 properly speaking, a " dug-out ") was eight feet in length, and 
 barely one in width. It had been hollowed out of a single 
 tree, and I saw at a glance that, without I sat very still, I should 
 be precipitated into the lake. The Huron was kneeling in 
 the head of the ricketty little craft, and plying his paddle 
 briskly. He was so grave and systematic a young gentleman, 
 that I did not feel disposed to venture the slightest suggestion 
 or interference, but left him to act as he pleased, and strove 
 to look quite unconcerned. 
 
 As I had been led to expect, the "dug-out" presently 
 capsized, arid floated bottom upwards. I succeeded in getting 
 astride it, but saw nothing of the Huron. The next moment 
 I caught sight of his copper countenance, and, thrusting my 
 hand quickly under water, seized him by the hair. The 
 weeds had entangled themselves round his legs, and it was 
 only by dint of my strongest pull that I was enabled to release 
 him. 
 
 A few strokes of the paddle brought us to the shore. The 
 Huron, without paying the least regard to his bruised head 
 and dripping limbs, produced his knife, cut three or four pliant 
 twigs, and lashed two of the canoes securely together. He 
 then jumped in again with greater confidence, cried, " Good,", 
 and beckoned me to follow. I did so, and we darted rapidly 
 away in the direction of the head of the lake. 
 
 A pretty and romantic scene. A large canoe shot suddenly 
 round the little promontory for which we were making. Two 
 stately red men were plying the paddles, and a third gentle- 
 man, attired in a white blanket coat and jaunty tasselled cap, 
 stood in the stern sheets, shading his eyes with one hand, 
 balancing a heavy fishing rod in the other, and surveying me 
 with an air of the liveliest curiosity. The two red men, I 
 learned, had been great warriors in their day, and the indi- 
 vidual in the blanket coat was a dashing young Frenchman 
 from Quebec, to whom I happened to have a letter of intro- 
 duction; so we shook hands, and he introduced me cheerfully 
 to his red friends, Bullfrog, and Bullfrog's brother. 
 
 " Parlez vous Fran9ais?" asked Monsieur. 
 
 E 
 
66 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 " Non," replied I, shaking my head despondingly. 
 
 " Ah, ma foi!" said he, shrugging his shoulders ludicrously; 
 " you no speak French I speak small English ; we get on 
 bad together. N'importe !" 
 
 With the latter consoling reflection, Monsieur pulled a flask 
 from his pocket, unscrewed the top of it (which served in the 
 double capacity of stopper and cup), filled, and presented it to 
 me. I cast my eye hastily over the group, nodded my head, 
 and said at a venture, "Bon sante, messieurs." The brothers 
 Bullfrog were next regaled, but the third Indian rejected the 
 forbidden fire-water, and looked angry. The Frenchman 
 shrugged his shoulders again expressively, regarded the Huron 
 with an air of pity, cried, "Pauvre garcon !" and, to hide his 
 chagrin, took two cups himself; after which he handed me a 
 spare rod, and we began to fish. I watched the float atten- 
 tively for a few seconds, then lost sight of it all at once, got 
 nearly pulled into the water, and after a long series of struggles, 
 succeeded in hauling up an extraordinary affair, which they 
 called a fish, but to me was a species of nightmare, under 
 which I laboured for a considerable time. It was one of a 
 genus, too, which appeared to be rather prevalent in those 
 waters, for a second soon afterwards seized Monsieur's line, 
 and without even permitting me the pleasure and privilege of 
 wishing my friend good-morning, towed him away ; canoe, 
 Bullfrogs, and all, up the lake, at the rate of about five knots 
 an hour. 
 
 It was noon. Pierre had brought out the Cardinal, and by 
 our joint efforts (always paying a marked deference to his 
 head and heels) we persuaded the animal to let us place him 
 between the shafts. Pierre paused a moment, rubbed his nose 
 with the handle of the whip, and said, if Monsieur Log had no 
 objection, he would make a short cut over the clearing to 
 Lorette. I told him he had my perfect sanction, and before I 
 had time to alter my mind, he dashed over a dilapidated snake 
 fence, with a shock that threw us both three feet into the air, 
 and away we flew full tilt through the half-cleared forest. 
 The stumps of the old trees were sticking staringly up in all 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 67 
 
 directions, and a collision with any of them, if not immediately 
 fatal, would certainly have proved far from pleasant; but 
 Pierre was a capital whip, and the possibility of an accident 
 at that moment was, I daresay, " not dreamt of in his philo- 
 sophy." 
 
 HEAP THE ELEVENTH. 
 
 The very appellation of this charming semi-civilised Indian 
 settlement contained a promise of something that was beauti- 
 ful and romantic, and half an hour's ramble along the shady 
 banks of the sweet St Charles, and the delightful dell through 
 which that river winds its way, more than realised the bright 
 picture imagination had loved to conjure up. In this dell 
 there is one of the most picturesque little cascades I ever be- 
 held, approachable only by a long flight of wooden steps, and 
 down these I soon made my way with all that break-neck 
 impetuosity for which I had lately become remarkable. I 
 scrambled to the foot of the fall, but that was not enough: to 
 appreciate a spectacle of this nature, one should get sprinkled 
 with the purple spray become part, as it were, of the cata- 
 racHtself, and live for awhile in the radiance of the gorgeous 
 bow that spans it. 
 
 A stranger at Lorette always creates a sensation, more par- 
 ticularly if he happens to have come from the other side of the 
 " big salt lake." I was immediately surrounded by a lively group 
 of dusky young ladies and gentlemen, who all began to chatter 
 away in the most polite and attentive manner possible, though 
 their complimentary harangue was altogether lost upon me, as 
 it was couched in a language of which unfortunately I did not 
 comprehend one syllable. I, however, gave them to under- 
 stand that I wished to see their chief, or king, and, under a 
 select escort of four fine boys, and as many handsome young 
 squaws, was conducted to the lodge of Tsoohahissen, sole sur- 
 viving chief of the Hurons. He was from home, but was ex- 
 pected to return shortly. A very fat, though pleasing-looking 
 
68 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 squaw, came forward, and invited me to take a chair. From 
 the marked deference that was paid to this lady, I concluded 
 (and rightly) that she was the Huron Queen. She spoke a 
 little broken English, and inquired how long I had been in 
 Canada ; then asked my name, and whether I was any relation 
 to the late King George. I gave her my card, and after spell- 
 ing the word over a great many times, she finally asked me to 
 write it down. I did so, and she scrutinised it closely; then 
 surveyed me from top to toe, as though in the endeavour to 
 trace some analogy between us; which was all very natural, 
 as an Indian generally derives his title from some great feat 
 that he has achieved, or from some prominent peculiarity in 
 either his "gifts" or person. Failing in the attempt, she told 
 me gravely that I must be "great medicine," and just at this 
 moment Tsoohahissen entered. I arose, and he extended his 
 hand, which I shook in a respectful manner. He said, " Hugh ! " 
 once or twice, and motioned me to resume my seat. He was 
 an elderly man, rather above the middle height, and of a com- 
 manding figure; had a face the colour of a polished cocoa-nut; 
 features strongly marked, and finely chiselled; eyes of a bril- 
 liant black, and glistening like the moon on a bayonet; and 
 ebon hair, parted in the centre of his forehead, and falling in a 
 profusion of rich glossy curls, the size of dollars, upon his 
 superbly-moulded neck and shoulders. His dress was simple 
 but elegant: he wore a blue military surtout, a red sash, blue 
 leggings, and deerskin mocassins ornamented with beads. He 
 was every inch a chief, and I felt that it was far more condu- 
 cive to my comfort to be sitting on friendly terms with Tsoo- 
 hahissen, and regaled by him in his own lodge, than to have 
 the old warrior dodging me from tree to tree in the forest, 
 eyeing me over the long barrel of his firelock, and coveting 
 my scalp. I was told that he was one of the four who had 
 visited England many years since, and been entertained by 
 King George. The Huron Queen pointed to a handsome 
 portrait of that monarch, which King George himself had pre- 
 sented to Tsoohahissen; and she also showed me some medals, 
 given at the same time, but in which both kings were grossly 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 69 
 
 deceived. The medals were not gold; they were plated, and 
 the impostor who supplied them deserves to be exposed. 
 
 " White man great rogue," muttered the old Huron chief; 
 "no tell lie and deceive pale-face, but cheat poor Irijin." 
 
 The queen said she had a long cherished wish to see Eng- 
 land, and I assured her she would meet with a kind reception, 
 as the "pale-faces" entertained a strong regard for their red 
 friends. She asked whether the big salt lake was not very 
 angry and dreadful at times. I told her no, that she might 
 make the passage in the summer season, and suffer scarcely 
 any inconvenience at all. She thought nothing about the ex- 
 pense, she said; she had plenty of money, and wouldn't care if 
 the voyage cost her a hundred ten forty sixty dollars; it 
 wasn't for that, but she was growing stout, and the young pale- 
 faced men would laugh, and point at her. No, I said, the 
 young pale-faced men had too much politeness to do any such 
 thing. Well, she might perhaps visit England yet before she 
 died; and when I saw Queen Victoria again, I was to speak a 
 kind word for rny red sister in Canada. Could Victoria hunt? 
 could she cook venison ? could s}ie paddle a canoe ? No ! 
 Ah! that was bad; she must never expect to become the 
 squaw of a great warrior till she had acquired all such grace- 
 ful and requisite accomplishments as these. 
 
 Tsoohahissen was very silent and observing. He knew 
 little English, but his son, a fine young fellow of about six- 
 and-twenty, spoke sufficient of it for me to comprehend his 
 meaning. He was feathering some arrows for his two magni- 
 ficent boys, and said, if I would step out on the green, I should 
 witness their skill with the bow. I thrust a quarter-dollar 
 into the cleft of a thin stick, and one of the young marksmen, 
 standing at a distance of at least thirty yards from the object, 
 struck it out. The other (who possessed the finest pair of eyes 
 that ever adorned a human head) winged his arrow through 
 the cleft without removing the stick. His father told me that 
 either of them would shoot a moose through the eye at forty 
 paces. 
 
 Tsoohahissen invited me to spend a portion of the winter 
 
70 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 with him. He said he would teach me to hunt the moose, and 
 kill bears. He showed me his rifle. It was a load for a 
 strong man. On my hinting as much, he seized the weapon 
 by the middle, uttered a wild whoop, and whirled it around 
 his head with a rapidity and address that brought to my mind 
 the feats of a certain spirited Irish gentleman who was cele- 
 brated for his neat mode of handling a flail, and his ability to 
 " empty a fair" with it in a few minutes. 
 
 Of the beauty of the Huron squaws, I received a particularly 
 favourable impression. The few I had seen enveloped in 
 blankets at Quebec were but a poor specimen. Here, squatting 
 at the doors of the neat lodges, with their black luxuriant hair 
 falling in large rich curly waves down their backs, were many 
 really beautiful girls, with fine oval faces,, and figures of the 
 most bewitching plumpness. One of the prettiest of them pre- 
 sented me with a pair of white mocassins, ornamented with 
 coloured moose hair. In return, I presented her with a little 
 pocket mirror, set in ivory; a bauble which seemed to give 
 great satisfaction. 
 
 The Lorette Indians are proud of their church, and asked 
 me to walk in, and look round it. It was handsomely decorated 
 with crucifixes, pierced hearts, bloody daggers, &c. &c.; and 
 among other frippery of the kind, there flared upon me, what 
 I have no doubt passed among those poor deluded people for 
 an exquisite painting. It consisted of a full-length portrait of 
 St Peter, who was grasping a key half the size of his own body. 
 On his right hand, perched upon a Bible, stood the cock ; an 
 animal of a very insinuating expression of countenance, and with 
 a pair of prodigious legs, which appeared to involve him in a 
 great deal of painful embarrassment. He had his beak open, 
 too, and was evidently in the act and crisis of inculcating some 
 weighty moral lesson. While I gazed, awestruck, at the saga- 
 cious bird, the squaw to whom I had given the ivory mirror 
 entered, with the toy suspended from her neck. Dipping her 
 finger into the font of holy water, she sprinkled herself de- 
 voutly, crossed her forehead, and then walked rather coquet- 
 tishly out. I followed, and after lingering a few minutes 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 71 
 
 more in the sweet village, paying another visit to Tsoohahissen 
 and the Huron Queen, and asking her not to forget me 
 when she ventured to England, shook hands with all present, 
 and sprang to the shelf behind the Cardinal, who, having an 
 extra feed of corn in perspective at Quebec, did not appear in- 
 clined to lose any time in getting back to it. 
 
 I had frequently observed, in different parts of this wild 
 country, a species of tall rough cross, stationed by the roadside; 
 and I now inquired of Pierre what such affairs meant. He 
 told me that the Canadians, in lieu of travelling a long distance 
 to church, came and prayed there, which answered the same 
 purpose. I noticed also that the present crucifix had a small 
 niche, or cupboard, half way up; and I was so curious as to dis- 
 mount and peep in. Two droll little dolls inhabited it, and 
 these, Pierre said, represented saints. I examined one atten- 
 tively, and found his carotid artery completely severed, by 
 means of a deep notch which some malicious and evil- disposed 
 fellow had inflicted with his heretic knife. " This sort of thing 
 is wrong," said I ; "drive on, Pierre." 
 
 In rendering an account of my hasty visit to Lorette, I have 
 omitted to speak of an interesting conversation I held with an 
 old Canadian. This man asserted himself to be the sole sur- 
 vivor of a band of five-arid- forty emigrants, fifteen hunters, and 
 ten trappers, who, many years since, as they were fording the 
 upper eastern fork of the Missouri, were fallen upon by a fierce 
 horde of Sioux the most warlike and predatory of the Indian 
 tribes and massacred. But I have endeavoured to condense 
 the story into a few lines of poetry or what not which run 
 thus: 
 
 God help our wives and little ones, God shield them in the strife, 
 From rifle, murd'rous tomahawk, and bloody scalping- knife; 
 Breathe fire into our warriors' hearts, and nerve their arms for fight, 
 For twice two hundred Sioux dogs lurk on our trail to-night. 
 
 All was a deep deep silence now, save when the wind would pass, 
 And whisper for a moment with the long wild prairie grass, 
 When suddenly, in dim relief against the midnight sky, 
 Five stately elk five giant elk came stalking boldly by. 
 
72 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 Brave hunter's fare! sharp, shrill, and sure, our ready rifles rang: 
 Such be the fate, thou daring five, of all thy coward gang ! 
 There in their hideous war-paint lay, besmear'd with grease and gore, 
 Five braves who ne'er would draw the bow, nor wield the hatchet more. 
 
 Ay, blood for blood; on on they came, with shout, and whoop, and yell- 
 
 With such a whoop as if the damn'd had burst the gates of hell. 
 
 Now hunters of Kentucky, and ye hardy trapper ten, 
 
 If ye would save your scalps and ours, now 'quit yourselves like men ! 
 
 Thick flew the poison'd arrows round, and thicker, thicker still, 
 The leaden shower their firelocks sent, as samples of their skill : 
 Then, sallying o'er our friendly walls of good tough bison skin, 
 Up up we from our ambush sprung, and pour'd our volley in. 
 
 'Twas foot to foot, and hand to hand, and breast to .breast, we fought, 
 And every inch we yielded, with their best heart's blood was bought; 
 Until, faint, few, and failing fast, hemm'd in on every side, 
 Each, battling yet, fell where he stood, and where he fell he died. 
 
 And for the rest o'er that, alas ! 'tis well to draw the veil 
 He ceased his lip grew deadly white his cheek turn'd deadly pale; 
 He bared his brow; it bore the scars of many a border strife, 
 And lo ! the ghastly traces of the bloody seal ping- knife ! 
 
 HEAP THE TWELFTH. 
 
 I had one little journey yet in contemplation, then I purposed 
 bidding adieu to the beautiful city of Quebec, and wending on- 
 wards to Montreal and the Upper Province. The journey 
 hinted at was to the Falls of La Chaudiere, a cataract of which 
 I had heard much, and I was fearful I might not have another 
 opportunity of visiting. To accomplish this desirable end, 
 therefore, I stepped on board the small steamboat plying be- 
 tween Quebec and St Nicolas (a small settlement about fifteen 
 miles further up the left bank of the St Lawrence) ; and, get- 
 ting as much out of the glare of the hot sun as possible, sat 
 down to take a survey of the company around me. It consisted 
 of about six French Canadian ladies (three of whom had been 
 superintending the purchase of some very noisy ducks and 
 geese, and a sucking pig); one Jesuit priest, in a long black 
 dismal gown, and capacious sombrero to match; and four 
 
WHITTLINGS FKOM THE WEST. 73 
 
 " habitans," with blue nightcaps, and the indispensable jack- 
 boots, into the tops of which the lower portions of their unmen- 
 tionables were tightly tucked. The Jesuit, who was a gentle- 
 man of an exceedingly heavy and forbidding appearance, was 
 reading a book; but the moment I took my seat by his side, he 
 coloured up very red, and scrambled it under his gown. 
 
 I was rather concerned to see the four habitans making a 
 hearty meal of the coarsest black bread and yellow soap. I ex- 
 pressed my surprise, as well as disgust, to a person who sat 
 near me, and learned that they were not devouring soap, but 
 maple sugar, which they eat much as an English ploughman 
 would his cheese, though with a higher relish. 
 
 SAN NICOLAS. The sun began to have great power, and 
 there lay a distance, yet, of at least three miles between myself 
 and La Chaudiere, which is situated in the middle of a forest. 
 I inquired, at what I suppose I must term an inn, and possibly 
 an hotel, whether such a thing as a calash could be procured 
 in the neighbourhood, and an encouraging shrug of the 
 shoulders was the response. The fact is, my application was 
 somewhat ill-timed, the hotel-door at the moment happening to 
 be in an active state of siege. Two noisy, drunken habitans, 
 desirous of renewing their potations, were struggling manfully 
 to push themselves in, and the landlord, or " boss," backed by 
 a stout posse of relatives and dependants, was struggling as man- 
 fully to push them out. The landlord (unlike most Canadians) 
 was very fat, and served as an admirable battering-rarn to the 
 landlady and bar-maid, who, by a succession of sudden and 
 violent sallies against that gentleman's interposed person, were 
 contributing largely to the dislodgment of the assailants; 
 while a third lady, an extremely scraggy and ferret-eyed little 
 personage (probably the landlady's sister), was rendering her- 
 self highly conspicuous in the background, by virtue of a long 
 broom a formidable implement, with which she laid about her 
 laudably, though with perhaps a greater display of energy than 
 either skill or discretion, as the bruised and disfigured heads of 
 more than two of the parties engaged sufficiently testified. 
 
 Jogging onwards, I overtook a tall well-made strapping 
 
74 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 young fellow, of some three or four-arid-twenty. His face was 
 the colour of mahogany, but his accent (as I discovered when 
 he spoke) was decidedly English. We eyed each other for a 
 few seconds, and then entered into conversation. I asked him 
 to direct me to La Chaudiere. His whole countenance bright- 
 ened up at once. 
 
 " Are you going to La Chaudiere?" said he. "I have a 
 little piece of business to transact with a farmer a few miles 
 from here, but, if you will accept of my company, I shall be 
 happy to walk with you to the falls ; for, though I have seen 
 them twenty times, they have always a novelty and charm for 
 me, and I may be of some service in pointing out to you the 
 positions from which they may be viewed to the most advantage." 
 
 I accepted his offer gladly; and, looking at me again, he 
 said, " You are from the Old Country." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Have you been long in Canada?" 
 
 " A few weeks." 
 
 " Do you intend to remain here for any length of time ?" 
 
 " About twelve or eighteen months not more." 
 
 " All in the settlements?" 
 
 " No, I think of spending three or four of them in the back- 
 woods." 
 
 " Of the Upper Province, pray, or the Lower?" 
 
 " In the backwoods of Lake Ontario." 
 
 " Ha! I am from Lake Ontario; we ought to become better 
 acquainted. Perhaps we might contrive to pass a portion of 
 the winter together. Do you mean to penetrate into the wil- 
 derness?" 
 
 " I do, indeed. I am quite decided as to that." 
 
 " Then you'll never return to the settlements." 
 
 "Why not?" said I, looking at him. 
 
 " Where one does, ten don't a hunter's life has such a 
 charm in it." 
 
 " Then what brings you here ? " 
 
 " I come to sell my skins, and purchase a new rifle; I broke 
 .my last over the head of a bear." 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 75 
 
 THE FALLS. Deafened and dizzy, we pushed our way 
 through the green refreshing underwood, into a wild romantic 
 glen, and gained the edge of the steep down which the impe- 
 tuous La Chaudiere leaps and thunders. The shock of so 
 many thousand tons of falling water, and the novelty of a scene 
 so inexplicably grand, compelled me to retire a few paces, and 
 gasp for breath. My eyes were dazzled, my brain swam, and 
 my heart began to beat violently, as though it were sympathis- 
 ing with the rush of the cataract, and hailing it as a kindred 
 spirit. I sat down on a jutting ledge of rock, and my friend 
 the young backwoodsman, not a whit less moved and awe- 
 struck, took a seat by my side. 
 
 True, the height of La Chaudiere is considerably less than 
 that of Montmorenci ; and, true, Weld, the celebrated traveller, 
 was disposed to yield the palm to the latter; but he visited La 
 Chaudiere in the summer, when the body of water is compara- 
 tively small. Montmorenci is a very beautiful and picturesque 
 fall; its fame is based principally upon its vast height and ex- 
 treme elegance. La Chaudiere is less remarkable for these, 
 than for its stern terrific grandeyr, and immense volume. 
 Montmorenci has an air of open-heartedness, which is most 
 captivating; it desires no concealment, and seeks none, but 
 bares its pure chaste snowy bosom to the world. La Chau- 
 diere, on the other hand, loves the retirement of the forest, and 
 is so splendidly girt about with green overhanging woods of 
 pine, and dark savage scowling rocks, that I could not help 
 giving it the preference more especially when the sun darted 
 down all his meridian glory upon it, and the usual gorgeous 
 and gigantic bow bestrode the tumbling mass. 
 
 A sudden thought having occurred to the young backwoods- 
 man, he started to his feet, and beckoned me to follow. Select- 
 ing from the heap of drift-timber lying near, a heavy pine log, 
 of about thirty feet in length, we shuffled it (with the aid of 
 two smaller logs, acting as levers) into the rapids. It trembled 
 and tottered for a moment, like something endued with life; 
 was tossed fiercely into the air; whirled about dizzily there for 
 a few seconds; caught in its descent by the advancing body of 
 
76 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 waves and foam; flung high on end ; and then precipitated into 
 the boiling caldron below. 
 
 Descending the precipice, and getting as near to the foot of 
 the cataract as possible, we now seated ourselves upon the pro- 
 jecting angle of cliff, on which one extremity of" the beautiful 
 iris was based. The rapid and growing intimacy that had 
 sprung up between the young backwoodsman and myself, led 
 him to give me some little sketch of his history. Among other 
 things, he told me that his Indian name, translated into Eng- 
 lish, was Twobears; that his mother was a squaw; arid his 
 father, Captain Ramsay, a British officer, who, in consequence 
 of some deep-rooted dislike he had taken to the world or the 
 people in it had retired into the wilderness, where he led a 
 Robinson Crusoe sort of life, the pleasures and privileges of 
 which he would not exchange for all the blessings and comforts 
 civilisation could lavish upon him. Twobears wound up his 
 narrative by giving me a pressing invitation to return to the 
 backwoods with him ; and finding that could not conveniently be 
 accomplished, extorted from me a promise to seek him out in 
 the fall or autumn and undergo the agreeable ceremony of 
 an introduction to the captain. 
 
 " On no account, however," said Twobears, " defer your 
 visit later than the first week in October." 
 
 " Why are you so particular in specifying the first week in 
 October?" I asked. 
 
 " Because," replied he, " I have to fight a duel with a trapper, 
 and would like you to be present. It might interest you. We 
 have a somewhat novel way of fighting duels in the backwoods." 
 
 " Upon my word, you take things coolly," said I, laughing. 
 " Is there no possibility of your being killed ?" 
 
 Twobears shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "It will be an awkward affair, certainly," said he; "but 
 what is to be done ? I am insulted by a man, and knock him 
 down. He gets up again, and flings a challenge in my face. 
 I accept it, of course, because, if I didn't give him redress in 
 public, he would retaliate in private, and most probably assas- 
 sinate me. I would not spill the blood of a mosquito in wan- 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 77 
 
 tonness, but if I find that he is about to sting me 
 then " 
 
 "True, the case is altered; do you use pistols?" 
 
 " No, I should have preferred them ; but Isaac Crease had 
 the selection of weapons, and mode of warfare; so we are to 
 hide in a given circumference of forest, and steal upon each 
 other with rifle, tomahawk, and knife." 
 
 " And pray, is Mr Isaac Crease at all an expert shot?" 
 
 " Very very good, indeed," returned Twobears, stirring 
 up his curls pleasantly with three fingers. " He has won the 
 prize at several matches, and fought two or three brushes of 
 the kind before; on one of which occasions he wounded his 
 opponent mortally, and got his own arms and legs barked in 
 numerous places, as well as the greater part of his left ear shot 
 away. Isaac is now in the Wisconsin territory, arranging his 
 affairs, and will return towards the end of September." 
 
 I asked Twobears what sort of a marksman he himself was. 
 He leaped to his feet, laughed, and said I should see when we 
 met in the backwoods; and with a few more directions for my 
 procedure to the retreat of the captain, his father, when I 
 arrived in the forests of Lake Ontario, and with sundry ad- 
 monitions to me not to fail in keeping my pledged word, Two- 
 bears grasped my hand, clambered the crag, and slowly took 
 his departure. A minute afterwards, he turned round, and 
 cried, "Catch!" and an elegant little silver powder-flask 
 dropped at my feet. 
 
 "That is mine, remember," shouted the hunter; "and I 
 prize it highly. Read the inscription. Don't neglect to re- 
 turn it." He gave me no opportunity of replying, but waved 
 his cap, and was gone. 
 
 I sat a few minutes pondering over the odd adventure, and 
 weighing the probabilities of an illness, or some other unfore- 
 seen event, occurring to derange my plans, and hinder me 
 from fulfilling the engagement into which I had so rashly 
 plunged; then, gazing my last upon the sublime falls, reluc- 
 tantly turned my back upon them, and began to shape my 
 course for Quebec. 
 
78 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 But the vexatious little steamboat had left San Nicolas, and 
 my only alternative was to walk to Point Levi, a distance of 
 ten miles, through a pathless forest and half-cleared country, 
 in which I was a perfect stranger. To my utter chagrin, too, 
 I discovered that it would be necessary for me to cross the La 
 Chaudiere River. As this rapid stream was not more than 
 seventy or eighty yards wide, I resolved to swim it; and had 
 already, indeed, begun to undress, and form my wardrobe into 
 a bundle (which I intended to carry precisely as Cassar did 
 his famous Commentaries over the Bay of Alexandria), when 
 a tall man, standing bolt upright in a high waggon, presented 
 himself upon the clearing. I told him that I wished to get to 
 the other side of the La Chaudiere, and he had the assurance 
 to hint, in French, that for a "trente sous" he would drive me 
 over. I looked at him, to see whether he was at all jocularly 
 disposed, but, finding him perfectly demure, climbed into the 
 waggon at once, and the horse plunged up to the blinkers in 
 foam. The waggon filled instantly, and I was about to spring 
 from it, and carry out my original intentions, when we emerged 
 from the river, and found ourselves on a sort of table rock. 
 From this the horse had to plunge again like a gentleman 
 from the steps of a bathing machine at Ramsgate into at 
 least ten feet depth of water; a measure which set us afloat 
 a second time, and left nothing of the animal visible but the 
 tips of his ears, and a few bristles of his rat-tail. A minute 
 more brought us to another shelf of rock. In the act of scaling 
 this, the concern tilted on one side, and dashed me violently 
 against the driver, who darted suddenly forward, and made a 
 desperate attack upon the hind-quarters of his afflicted quad- 
 ruped with the flat of a huge three-pronged potato- fork; a 
 species of expostulation which induced the poor beast to effect 
 another plunge or two, when the vehicle righted, and we were 
 ashore. I asked the habitan if he had ever forded the river 
 in his waggon before. He said, " Non, monsieur," pocketed 
 the quarter- dollar, and bowed with great affability. My way 
 was now clear. It lay direct through a small settlement 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 79 
 
 called " New Liverpool," to Point Levi, from whence I could 
 take a canoe, and paddle across to Quebec. 
 
 HEAP THE THIRTEENTH. 
 
 Before leaving the Lower Province, I went again over the 
 citadel and works, and to inspect the spot over which Theller, 
 Dodge, and three or four other American "sympathisers" 
 (who had been captured by the British in the rebellion of '38, 
 and were awaiting sentence), had contrived to make their 
 escape. Their leap from the wall on the ramparts to the rock 
 below was a fearful one, and their subsequent adventures in 
 and around Quebec equal to, if not surpassing, anything to be 
 found in the pages of romance. Theller published a book 
 shortly afterwards, but it is a coarse production, though his 
 bombast, and abuse of England, and everything English, 
 diverted me amazingly. 
 
 My next destination was a settlement called Trois Rivieres. 
 My friend Twobears Ramsay had giv r en me a glowing descrip- 
 tion of some majestic falls (and fall scenery was my passion) 
 situate up the St Maurice, or Black River, which empties 
 itself into the St Lawrence at about mid-distance between 
 Quebec and Montreal. Of these falls nothing has, apparently, 
 been said, and little is known (except to the few wild hunters 
 and " voyageurs " who have occasion to pass them on their 
 way to the station of the Hudson's Bay Fur Company), and I 
 was determined to pay them a visit. Trois Rivieres appeared 
 to be the nearest starting post, and, accordingly, to Trois 
 Rivieres I proposed to repair. The cruise from thence to the 
 cataracts (as the numerous rapids render the river unnavi- 
 gable to larger craft) would, I understood, have to be performed 
 by canoe ; and from the peculiar relish with which Twobears 
 had described how I was to set about the business, and hinted 
 at the privations I should have to undergo, I was led to antici- 
 pate an indulgence in a few days of stirring adventure and 
 
80 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 excitement. The fact, however, of the falls being almost 
 unknown, and, in a measure, out of the reach of the sight- 
 seeing world as well as far removed from all symptoms of 
 civilisation formed in itself a sufficient inducement to me to 
 undertake the projected trip. 
 
 The last few days of my sojourn in Quebec were devoted 
 to a variety of pleasant walks and excursions in the neighbour- 
 hood ; one of which solitary rambles led to the composition of 
 
 these lines : 
 
 'Twas evening; in the glowing west 
 The golden sun had sunk to rest, 
 And, lured on by the vesper star, 
 My weary feet had wander'd far, 
 When one of those refreshing showers, 
 So welcome to the fainting flowers, 
 Fell to revive the thirsty ground, 
 And scatter fragrance all around. 
 
 A little wood look'd green and fair, 
 I turn'd to seek a shelter there, 
 And as I watch'd the wreaths of gems 
 Hang sparkling round the tall pine stems, 
 A softer, sweeter, sadder strain 
 Than I shall ever hear again, 
 From some unseen musician near, 
 Stole gently on my listening ear. 
 
 Such plaintive tones, in such a spot, 
 When will they can they be forgot 1 ? 
 'Twas one of those deep touching lays 
 That bore me back to boyhood's days; 
 And many, o'er whose early graves 
 The yew or nodding cypress waves, 
 One note of that forbidden air 
 Brought painfully before me there. 
 
 A maple bough aside I drew; 
 . A lovely cottage met my view, 
 And at the open'd lattice stood 
 ** (Just in the dawn of womanhood) 
 A dark-eyed maid, in act to place 
 The rose, she match'd in bloom and grace 
 (And her fair hands had tended well), 
 To catch some pure bright drops which fell. 
 
 I soon shall leave this happy shore, 
 I shall not see that cottage more, 
 
WHITTLIXGS FROM THE WEST. 81 
 
 But springs and autumns will roll by, 
 
 And forest leaves long bud and die, 
 
 And cherisli'd flower, and dark-eyed maid, 
 
 Will bloom their little day, and fade, 
 
 Ere I forget the summer shower, 
 
 And bliss, and sadness of that hour. 
 
 ###*#** 
 With Mademoiselle Millefleurs, and the Rev. Mr Tombs, 
 and most of my other friends in Quebec, it was a comparatively 
 easy matter to part, but with Monsieur Bonbon it was an 
 affair of some difficulty; between which gentleman and myself 
 there took place a scene very similar to the one we read of as 
 having occurred between Nicholas Nickleby and the warm- 
 hearted Mr Crummies, of theatrical notoriety. It was only, 
 indeed, by dint of a supernatural effort that I managed to tear 
 myself from his embrace, and he was just visible afterwards in. 
 the distance, with his wig on the ferrule of his walking-stick 
 waving a final adieu. 
 
 I had now a fine view of Wolfe's Cove, over whose dark 
 pine-fringed cliffs there gleamed (as Bailey in his "Festus" 
 
 hath it) 
 
 " The last high upward slant of sun, 
 Like a dead soldier's sword upon his pall." 
 
 The scenery of this part of the St Lawrence is very grand 
 and imposing, but will not bear a comparison with that between 
 Quebec and Green Island, which, from what I have heard, and 
 can readily imagine, has no equal all the world over. The 
 evening was delightfully mild and calm, and the river like 
 molten gold ; the green, fir-clad heights that hemmed it in, 
 gazing down upon themselves in the placid depths, and awak- 
 ing in the swelling heart all those holy and happy emotions 
 of which the magic twilight hour ever renders it so sweetly 
 susceptible. 
 
 The majority of the passengers soon retired below for the 
 night. A Jesuit, a Vermont farmer (a very Hercules), and I, 
 had possession of the quarterdeck. The Jesuit, with his 
 head sunk upon his bosom, shortly nodded himself to sleep, 
 and slipped from the bench to a coil of cable at his feet ; while 
 
82 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST: 
 
 the Vermonter (who was sitting on one chair, with his legs 
 dangling over the back of another, trimming a plug of tobacco 
 for his cheek), eyeing me good-humouredly, propounded the 
 following query : 
 
 " I con-elude now, mister, that you're from the Old Country." 
 
 I supplied him with the requisite information. 
 
 " Where might you have been raised, sir?" 
 
 On this point, also, I satisfied his curiosity. 
 
 "Where do you locate when you're toe hum Cat home)?" 
 
 Having received the solution of this enigma, Jonathan 
 ruminated for a few minutes, was guilty of a slight indiscre- 
 tion with his tobacco-juice, parted with the old plug, inserted 
 the new one, and said, with a queer composed look, " What 
 do you do for a living?" While yet staggering under the 
 effects of this home-thrust, I had the fortune to be relieved by 
 the sudden advent of a long shapeless man from below, whom 
 I presumed to be a particular friend of the Vermonter's, as 
 that worthy inquired of him what he was looking so " all fired" 
 about, and what had " riz his dander" now. The new-comer 
 replied, with an odd execration, that he couldn't sleep, and 
 pointed testily to his eyes and nose; the former of those 
 expressive features being quite closed up, and the latter 
 covered with a profusion of white bumps and blisters, which 
 threw a much stronger light on the cause of his uneasiness 
 than could have resulted from any oral explanation whatever. 
 Allowing both him and his friend, therefore, as wide a berth 
 as the dimensions of the vessel would permit, I stretched 
 myself upon one of the benches, and endeavoured to follow 
 the seasonable example set by the Jesuit, whose nasal organ 
 was emitting a series of sounds similar to those usually atten- 
 dant upon the tearing up of a large quantity of very stout calico. 
 
 At midnight we reached Trois Rivieres. The bell was 
 rung, the "en-gines" were backed, the vessel stopped, a plank 
 was shoved out, I was pushed by some one behind, and pulled 
 by somebody before; I clambered to the wharf, the bell rang 
 again, a carpet-bag was flung into my face, there was a slight 
 scuffle, the steamer was gone, and I was left in the dark. I 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 83 
 
 poked ray way with a walking-stick, and knocked at the door 
 of the first house I came to. It happened to be an inn, and I 
 asked if I could have a bed. Yes, luckily there was one 
 vacant. A pretty little blue-eyed maid brought me a pair 
 of immense slippers, and I inquired for the landlord. He 
 came. 
 
 " I want two stout voyageurs," said I ; " where can such men 
 be procured ? " 
 
 " There are two moose-hunters, Monsieur, now in the 
 neighbourhood," was the reply. " Shall I fetch them ?" 
 
 "If you please;" and in less than five minutes the men 
 stood before me. The one was a dark, active, intelligent- 
 looking fellow of about forty years of age, and the other a 
 handsome smiling youth of perhaps one-and-twenty. I ex- 
 plained my intentions to them, and we struck a bargain in a 
 moment. When would I start? Early in the morning. 
 Was Monsieur aware that Shawinnegamme was distant many 
 leagues in the wilderness? Yes. And could Monsieur eat 
 pork and potatoes, and sleep upon hemlock boughs under a 
 tent? Certainly. " C'est bon!" cried Baptiste, the elder of 
 the two hunters, snapping his fingers. I told him to have 
 himself, and his friend, and the canoe, ready by six o'clock 
 the next morning, and he said he would " do his possible." 
 
 Day dawned, and I descended the steep bank of the St Maurice. 
 It was a much larger river than I had expected to see, and as 
 black as ink. Two men were standing by the brink of it; 
 they were my friends the moose-hunters. They turned 
 round, and, finding me true to my appointment, cut a ludicrous 
 caper. The canoe was about eleven feet in length, and con- 
 structed of the bark of the birch-tree. The bag of provisions 
 was put carefully in; then the axe; a spare pair of paddles; 
 a couple of kettles; a bit of rope; a tin pot; and a piece of. 
 canvas. I stepped in next; was followed by Baptiste and 
 Jacques, one of them taking his seat on the provisions, the 
 other kneeling in the bows; and, each plying his paddle 
 briskly, thus commenced we our cruise up the bold and black 
 ST MAURICE. 
 
84 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 HEAP THE FOURTEENTH. 
 
 I would never, willingly, be the means of inducing a cor- 
 pulent gentleman, nor indeed any gentleman, of other than 
 average proportions, to venture into a canoe; since, in the 
 event of his being in the most trivial degree unevenly hung and 
 balanced, such a step would not only endanger his own private 
 safety, but also be particularly detrimental to the welfare of 
 those who chance to be his fellow- voyagers. And, even in 
 ordinary cases, I much question whether the fact of one's right 
 whisker having outgrown his left, or of his having a button 
 more on the one cuff of his coat than is destined to adorn its 
 fellow, would not, each in itself, furnish the touchy little craft 
 with sufficient provocation for an immediate capsize. I gleaned 
 a valuable hint or two, relative to the caution necessary for 
 observation in all such aquatic excursions, from my adventure 
 on Lake St Charles, and had now to undergo a second lesson 
 from Baptiste, the elder of the two hunters, who, in conse- 
 quence of my having merely raised my hand to dislodge a large 
 blue bottle-fly, which was whispering something in my ear that 
 had no interest for me, shouted at the top of his voice (though 
 I am not at all deaf), " Prenez garde, monsieur prenez garde, 
 s'il vous plait," and made a violent demonstration with one of 
 his legs, as a means of averting the calamity which the un- 
 guarded movement of my arm had nearly been instrumental in 
 bringing upon us. It was less an anxiety for our individual 
 comfort that suggested this caution from the moose-hunter, 
 than an earnest regard for the safety of our axe and provisions, 
 without which very essential encumbrances we should have 
 cut but a foolish figure in the wildernesses we were rapidly 
 approaching. 
 
 Baptiste hinted that a storm was brewing overhead, but con- 
 soled me with an assurance that it would not last long. Eight 
 or ten large black scowling clouds, like so many grim ships 
 of war, sailed majestically up the heavens, and began to open 
 their fire upon a similar number of others, that had given chase 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 85 
 
 and spread themselves out, right and left, like the two wings 
 of an advancing army. Jacques, with proper precaution, 
 covered the provision bag, and put on his coat. Baptiste 
 glanced skyward, shook his head, and shrugged his shoulders. 
 A drop of rain, the size of a quarter-dollar, fell upon the back 
 of my hand; another on my cheek; and a third on Jacques' 
 nose, with a force that made him wink. Both he and Baptiste 
 suspended operations with the paddle for a moment, and gazed 
 inquiringly at me. Baptiste was about to speak, when a mag- 
 nificent flash of forked lightning darted down the sable vault 
 above us, and struck a huge pine into a thousand splinters. A 
 deafening peal of thunder followed, and the "big" impetuous 
 rain, which had not the leisure to distribute itself into drops, 
 poured on our devoted heads, in long, thick, luminous streams. 
 In an instant we were up to the knees in water. Baptiste said 
 he would do just which Monsieur pleased either run the canoe 
 ashore, that we might take shelter in the forest, and await the 
 issue of the storm; or dash boldly on for a solitary farmhouse, 
 inhabited by a Canadian family, friends of his, and there spend 
 the remainder of the unpropitious- day. I chose the latter 
 alternative for two reasons: first, because I was of opinion 
 that the weather would not undergo any favourable change, 
 and it was impossible for us to get more drenched than we were 
 already ; and, secondly, because I had a longing to see some- 
 thing of the Canadian family to which Baptiste had made allu- 
 sion. The two moose-hunters, therefore, shaped their course 
 for the farm, while I busied myself in baling out the canoe, 
 with the tin pot provided for such emergencies. 
 
 Upon arriving at the farm, we ran the canoe ashore, as agreed 
 upon, turned it bottom upwards under cover of the trees, and 
 stowed the axe, paddles, pots, and kettles, carefully underneath 
 it ; then, with the water streaming from the legs of our trousers 
 and the cuffs of our jackets, made the best of our way to the 
 log-house, which was perched upon a small patch of clearing 
 under the lee of the dark silent forest: the lightning and 
 thunder giving us, meantime, a parting flash and volley not 
 easily to be forgotten, and the rain, with a similar pitiful dis- 
 
86 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 play of spite, attacking our persons suddenly in rear, and 
 absolutely pushing us into the hut porch. 
 
 Baptiste introduced me, with all becoming gravity, to his 
 friend the farmer, the farmer's wife, two daughters, and wife's 
 brother. Monsieur and madaoie were portly, middle-aged 
 personages, and the young ladies correspondingly buxom and 
 prepossessing. As I had not a dry thread about me, and had 
 made three large puddles on the floor already, Marie, our 
 hostess, led me into a private apartment, where I doffed my 
 own wet garments, and donned a dry and handsome suit, the 
 joint property of Monsieur Philippe and his wife to wit, a 
 pair of grey breeches of novel cut and alarming latitude; a- 
 yellow waistcoat, with a rather embarrassing height of collar; 
 a kind of flannel kilt, or dressing-gown, from the wardrobe of 
 madame; and a symmetrical pair of deerskin mocassins, which 
 would have fitted Wombwell's largest elephant. Thus attired 
 and transmogrified, I mingled with the group around the stove, 
 who all laid down their pipes, and burst into a hearty fit of 
 laughter; in which, after another sidelong survey of my per- 
 son, I was by no means disinclined to join, as the grey breeches 
 reached almost down to my knees, and the flannel dressing- 
 gown had a development of bosom and bustle which would not 
 have been altogether unprovocative of mirth on even a more 
 solemn occasion than the one that had now called us together. 
 
 Monsieur Philippe had a strong passion for dogs. He had 
 three huge mastiffs, all fond of warmth and comfort, and one 
 of them the possessor of a degree of obstinate assurance that 
 quite amazed me. Four times was he dislodged from the vici- 
 nity of the stove, and four times did he return to it. He walked 
 languidly to the spot, and did not lay down like any other dog, 
 but allowed himself to fall, with a short sigh or grunt, and in a 
 perfectly exhausted state, flat on his side, without bending a 
 joint or relaxing a muscle. Monsieur Philippe, somewhat 
 ruffled, seized the poker, and gave the brute a sharp thump on 
 the spine with it, which caused him to howl dismally for a mo- 
 ment, and then, observing that one of his canine friends in a 
 distant corner was privately enjoying his embarrassment, to 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 87 
 
 bound suddenly towards that worthy, with a snarl, and bite his 
 leg smartly. That done, he jogged wearily back to his old 
 quarters, and, bumping his heavy frame down once more at my 
 feet, turned his watery eye upon me, with a look that said, as 
 plainly as a look could, " Bear with my weakness; intercede 
 for me." He was a tall sleek fellow, with a monstrous head, 
 arid brilliant teeth ; but he had barely three quarters of an inch 
 of tail, and the absence of an ornamental appendage of that 
 nature rendered his appearance anything but agreeable or 
 picturesque. 
 
 By and by the habitan brought out his fiddle, and his wife, 
 daughters, and wife's brother, with the able assistance of the 
 two moose-hunters, got up a dance a recreation in which I 
 was compelled to decline the distinction of participating, as my 
 present costume incapacitated me for it; and the size of my feet, 
 encumbered with the mocassins, made my calculation of dis- 
 tances a little uncertain and precarious. 
 
 Night at length set in, and I began to speculate upon the 
 best mode of disposing of myself until the dawn of day. As 
 the house boasted of but one other apartment, which was ap- 
 propriated to the accommodation of madame and her blooming 
 daughters, I had in contemplation the propriety of converting 
 the tall mastiff into a bolster, and stretching myself along the 
 lioor, but Marie intimated her intention of putting me into her 
 own room an arrangement to which I deemed it advisable to 
 accede, when she assured me that it would be productive of no 
 unpleasantness or privation whatever to her, or any of her in- 
 teresting family. 
 
 The bed provided for my reception was just five feet in 
 length, but I placed a chair at the foot of it, and flattered my- 
 self that I should rest very comfortably. I soon discovered my 
 mistake. The heat of the stove nearly suffocated me. It was 
 a species of slow- cookery to which I had never before been sub- 
 jected. Sleep was out of the question.; so I did what I could 
 to persuade myself that my situation was far from uncomfor- 
 table, and rather preferable than otherwise, on the score of 
 novelty. 
 
88 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 An hour elapsed, the door opened, and Marie presented her- 
 self with a candle a measure which induced me instantly to 
 dispense with the assistance of the chair. My next act was to 
 glance inquiringly round the walls of the room. They were 
 one mass of Brobdignagian cockroaches, which, headed by half 
 a dozen veterans of superior parts, were chasing each other 
 about from floor to ceiling, and window to door, in the highest 
 conceivable state of jovially and good-fellowship. I shuddered. 
 Marie, remarking my concern, laughed, and said, " Ah, oui r 
 monsieur coclcrel ne les regardez pas" at the same time 
 whipping off her head-dress, depositing it pleasantly upon the 
 bed- post, and beginning to unlace. At this juncture, a very 
 fine and interesting young " eockrel" fell from the ceiling to the 
 quilt. As he chanced to come down upon his back, I assisted 
 him to his legs ; and, the effort over, shut my eyes with a strong 
 convulsion not to be rendered into language. 
 
 The buxom Marie, all preliminaries being satisfactorily ad- 
 justed, got into bed, and, the light being extinguished, Monsieur 
 Philippe, her affectionate consort, was about to follow her ex- 
 ample, when a long and vicious struggle took place between 
 him and the tall mastiff already alluded to; that genteel quad- 
 ruped having, in the ardour of his attachment, mistaken his 
 ^master's quarters for his own. He was dislodged with some 
 trouble, and finally, after an abortive attempt to billet his 
 shaggy person upon myself, kicked out. Two phantom figures 
 then flitted once or twice across the room; Baptiste crept 
 stealthily in, and coiled himself in a corner by my side; and 
 soon all was a dead silence, save the plash of the rain against 
 the windows, the ripple of the waves upon the shore, the thick 
 breathing of the sleepers, and the occasional chirp of a cricket. 
 Now, whether anything had tickled the winds this night in 
 particular, or not, I cannot say; but it was evident that they 
 had sallied from their respective hiding-places with the view of 
 enjoying a little boisterous recreation, for they all came rush- 
 ing down from the hills in a body, bellowing and whistling 
 their loudest, wrenching up trees by the roots, lashing the river 
 into a foam, and indulging in a variety of other engaging freaks* 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 89 
 
 too numerous for recital. In fact, they blew a perfect hurri- 
 cane, and then lulled as suddenly. There was a treacherous 
 stillness, and I began to suspect that they were merely prepar- 
 ing for a new exploit. Precisely so; in another moment, they 
 lifted the hut from the ground, in a way which led me to expect 
 that it was about to take an aerial excursion something like the 
 enchanted palace in the Arabian tale. No; a fresh idea must 
 have struck them, for they put it unceremoniously down again, 
 and raced off in an entirely different direction, making a clean 
 sweep through the forest, and dashing the spray from the black 
 St Maurice against the window, with a roar and a rattle as 
 though a whole broadside of grape and canister had been sud- 
 denly poured into us by some passing privateer. 
 
 The gale had spent itself, but it was much preferable to that 
 which succeeded it. There was a sound as of a large herd of 
 swine marching in procession through the room. My friend 
 the farmer, and the unconscious partner of his joys and sor- 
 rows, were what are termed " heavy sleepers." They were also 
 heavy snorers. Such an infliction was not to be endured, and, 
 as oral expostulations were productive of no reform, I felt that 
 I should be justified in seeking some stronger means of express- 
 ing my antipathy to so unexpected and ill-timed a serenade. I 
 awoke Baptiste, who I knew had a brain fertile in expedients. 
 There happened to be a long wild-duck gun standing in the 
 corner at his elbow, and, on drawing the ramrod, we perceived 
 that it terminated in a sharp spiral point. With this appro- 
 priate implement, the moose-hunter, leaning forward, made a 
 smart lunge under the blankets whence the objectionable sounds 
 were discovered to proceed. The effect was as instantaneous 
 as it was startling. There was an immediate cessation of the 
 offensive sounds, and a volley of "sacres" vented upon the lady 
 by her deluded husband, with a polite warning not to venture 
 it again on peril of her life. A few comparatively silent ILO-J 
 ments elapsed (like the quarter of an hour's intermission be- 
 tween Jullien's pieces), and the nasal music mounted once more 
 to as high and sublime a pitch as ever. A second vigorous 
 thrust was the result. It was the lady's turn to "sacre" this 
 
90 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 time, which she did to some purpose. A brisk skirmish en- 
 sued. Monsieur fought and plunged, and madame scratched 
 and kicked; counterpanes, sheets, and pillows, flying above and 
 around them in all directions, like foam upon a troubled sea. 
 The struggle over, I could just distinguish, by the sickly gleam 
 of the waning moon, a confused heap of lacerated legs, torn 
 blankets, and dishevelled hair; but I am altogether ignorant 
 to which side the victory leaned. I need scarcely observe, that 
 what with the crickets, and the cockroaches, and the rain, and 
 the wind, and the stove, and my own reflections, and the eccen- 
 tricities of my neighbours, I did not succeed in obtaining much 
 sleep that night, and felt extremely thankful when morning 
 broke, and my two guides expressed themselves ready to start. 
 
 HEAP THE FIFTEENTH. 
 
 It was morning, bright, blue, and beautiful. We searched 
 under the trees, behind the trees, in the trees, among the bushes, 
 and along the bank, and no canoe was to be seen. Baptiste 
 ran one way, Jacques ran another, and I ran a third. A shout 
 from the moose-hunter brought me to his side. He had found 
 the canoe, which the winds of the previous night had pressed 
 into their service, and, after the frolic, flung bottom upwards 
 on a high rock. A strict search was next set on foot for the 
 axe, paddles, pots, and kettles. Baptiste feared that they had 
 got adrift, and floated away, or perhaps rolled down the bank, 
 and sunk out of our reach. He seized a long stick, and probed 
 for them under the water. " Voila!" he cried, and held the 
 chief of the kettles to view on the end of the stick; while 
 Jacques, giving vent to a similar exclamation, produced the 
 axe, and I fished up the paddles, which had secreted them- 
 selves under a prostrate pine by the river's brink. There was 
 one kettle yet missing, but Baptiste said, "N'importe, mon- 
 sieur," and away we shot. The golden St Maurice was un- 
 broken by a ripple, and the scenery momentarily became more 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 91 
 
 varied and fine. We had now left all signs of civilisation far 
 behind, and I could not help feeling elated at the thoughts of 
 soon wandering about in those lonely woods where the axe had 
 never rung, and the sod never been trodden by any but the 
 mocassin of the Indian hunter. 
 
 Baptiste told me that the principal falls we had to visit were 
 those of Le Gras, Shawinnegamme, Grande Mere, and Grande 
 Pile. As all our upward journey was, of course, against the 
 stream, we had now and then some powerful rapids to stem, 
 and occasionally, where they could not be stemmed, to make 
 what is termed a " portage." Upon our arrival at the La 
 Gabelle Rapids, it became necessary for us to effect one of these 
 portages. The canoe was hauled up the beach, its contents 
 taken out and formed into a bundle, which bundle was fixed 
 (by the aid of a strap passing round his forehead) to the younger 
 guide's back; I followed with the axe and paddles; and the 
 old hunter (for, though he was but a middle-aged man, he was 
 an old hunter) with the canoe, which he carried, inverted, over 
 his head, with one of the thwarts resting on his shoulders, 
 looking, as he wound through the "green forest, exactly like a 
 huge alligator on two legs. 
 
 These portages are extremely pleasant things, for two reasons: 
 first, becausethe fatigue attendanton having sat for severalhours 
 in a cramped posture, is exchanged for the excitement of a scram- 
 ble through the forest; and, secondly, because it is one of the most 
 stirring sensations imaginable to watch your guide, with a heavy 
 canoe on his head, leaping from tree to tree, and crag to crag, with 
 all that buoyancy of motion and elasticity of step, that a lively 
 young lady would exhibit in tripping through a quadrille, after 
 supper is over, and the champaign has been in pretty brisk 
 circulation. I repeat that it is a most enchanting sight; and 
 frequently, when I have watched Baptiste, as he sprang from 
 the point of one rock to the extreme pinnacle of another, where 
 a false step would have dislocated his neck, and shivered the 
 canoe to atoms, I have felt a strong inclination to run after the 
 hunter, and slap him heartily on the back for his prowess. 
 This portage passed, we had yet a fierce current and some 
 
92 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 powerful rapids to battle against, the scenery still changing, 
 the eternal forest frowning down upon us in all its gloomy 
 grandeur, and the sullen roar of the distant Le Gras saluting 
 our ears at intervals. 
 
 Baptiste, on my hinting that I was fond of music, and would 
 like to hear him and Jacques chant one of those sweet songs 
 for which the Canadian voyageurs are so celebrated, said it 
 was a hard task to sing when paddling up stream, and he would, 
 if Monsieur pleased, give me a specimen of his vocal acquire- 
 ments as we returned. Baptiste had sojourned many years 
 among the Indians, and seen a great deal of bush life. His 
 ready wit, his presence of mind in all trying emergencies, and 
 his general address, reminded me forcibly of the famous Hawk- 
 eye, who plays so conspicuous a part in the interesting pages of 
 Mr Fenimore Cooper. The moose-hunter was not very tall, 
 but his frame was beautifully modelled, and not encumbered 
 with any superfluous fat. His limbs were short, round and 
 muscular; his eyes wonderfully quick and penetrating; his 
 ears curiously small, and exquisitely sensitive; and his teeth 
 of such firm setting and powerful formation, that he could lift 
 Jacques (who was no feather) between them easily, and shake 
 him like a dog. 
 
 LE GRAS. The portage at this place is usually made upon 
 the left bank of the river, by which arrangement the falls are 
 partially hidden. To obviate this unpleasantness, we effected 
 a portage on the right bank, but it proved so formidable and 
 breakneck a piece of business, that Baptiste said nothing 
 should ever induce him to attempt it again; for the canoe had 
 received some awkward wounds in the scuffle; and, had I not 
 stuck the blade of one of the paddles into Jacques* ribs as 
 promptly as I did, wjien he lost his footing and fell on his back, 
 the torrent would have carried him away, and we should have 
 been deprived of his valuable services. However, I was in 
 possession of the finest view of the falls, and that was Baptiste's 
 consolation; but I cannot describe them and that will be the 
 reader's. The spectator becomes quite bewildered. They are 
 above him, and beneath him, and around him; and he no sooner 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 93 
 
 turns to feast his gaze on the one side, than the torrent, jealous 
 of his applause, begins to roar and bellow so vociferously at 
 him from the other, that he is induced to face quickly about 
 again, under the supposition that there is some infernal scheme 
 afoot, to whip him off his weak legs, and hurl him to instant 
 destruction. What with the rocks piled so magnificently around, 
 and the immense volume of scattered water, and the mist, and 
 the foam, and the sunshine, and the spray, it is a scene that 
 cannot soon be forgotten, and one, I am disposed to think, 
 almost as worthy of a visit as the great Shawinnegamme 
 itself. 
 
 The roar of Le Gras had no sooner died away upon our ears, 
 than that of Shawinnegamme began to be audible, and I was 
 all impatience to get to it; but, as we were anxious to reach 
 Grande Mere by "sundown," and encamp there, we found it 
 prudent to push on now, and defer paying our respects to the 
 former, until we were on our way back. I confess that I had 
 some difficulty in reconcilfng myself to this step, as I could see 
 the mist of the falls rising in the distance, and feel the ground 
 trembling underneath my feet. 
 
 The scenery of the Black River now underwent a lively 
 change. It became less like a river, than a succession of en- 
 chanting little lakes, which opened one into the other in the 
 most unexpected and charming way imaginable, and were 
 dotted over with innumerable islands of surpassing loveliness 
 and interest. 
 
 " Ah ! monsieur," said Baptiste, pointing to one of these 
 with his paddle, and sighing, " I have often thought how 
 happy I could be in one of yonder pine clumps, with only iny 
 wife, and my babies, and Jacques, for companions. The world 
 is a weary place, and I am always the better man when far 
 away from it, with the grand old woods looking down upon me, 
 and their branches to yield me a shelter at night." 
 
 It was evening when we reached Grande Mere; a thousand 
 little floating islands of milk-white foam announced its vicinity; 
 and, when a sudden bend in the river brought us in sight of it, 
 what a thrill of delight shot through my veins! Grande Mere 
 
94 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 pours itself down a precipice of about sixty feet, into a noble 
 and spacious basin, which is of an amphitheatrical form, and 
 surrounded by fine rocks and bold forest heights. There are 
 two falls: the one body of water rolls smoothly to the edge of 
 the steep, and bounds over at once; while the other files off 
 magnificently to the left, and makes the circuit of an island 
 before it gathers itself for the leap. I am doubtful from which 
 position this superb cataract may be seen to the most advan- 
 tage. Those who have particularly sure feet and steady nerves, 
 should land on the craggy island alluded to, scramble to the sum- 
 mit of the dizzy rock that overhangs the fall, and there gaze, 
 wonder, and admire ; the less adventurous will, I daresay, be 
 content to view it from the basin, or adjacent shores but it 
 cannot be seen to disadvantage, stand where and how one will. 
 
 An exclamation from Jacques caused the moose-hunter and 
 myself to turn nimbly round, and inquire what had discom- 
 posed him. He pointed upward, and seized the axe. Upon 
 the end of a fallen tree that jutted from a neighbouring cliff, sat 
 a grizzly bear, contemplating our party with much apparent in- 
 terest. I drew a pistol from my pocket, and was about to level 
 it at his head, when the grim-looking brute, perhaps discouraged 
 by the hearty laugh with which his presence was greeted, 
 backed himself as far as the crag, and then trotted clumsily away, 
 shaking his snout, and growling the gruffest disapprobation. 
 
 It was only when the air began to get chill, and the cataract 
 to grow quite undiscernible in the gloom of night, that I felt 
 at all inclined to descend from the slippery crag on which I 
 had perched myself, and resort to the shelter of the tent. 
 Everything here, thanks to the moose-hunter and his com- 
 panion, looked as comfortable as heart could wish. In the 
 first place, there was a roaring fire, and over it, suspended 
 from a tough stake, whose thicker end was thrust firmly in the 
 ground, hung the most cheerful of kettles, which was bubbling 
 and singing away melodiously, and ever and anon lifting up 
 one corner of its lid, as if to threaten with instant expulsion 
 two or three refractory potatoes that had worked themselves 
 into a high state of steamy excitement. Secondly, two other 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 95 
 
 sturdy stakes had been driven perpendicularly into the sand, 
 and a third placed lengthwise on their tops, so as to form a 
 tent the shape of the capital letter A. At the back of this 
 tent, the canoe had been put on its side, to exclude as much 
 of the cold night air as possible; and on what we may term 
 the floor, had been strewn a quantity of the flat feathery 
 boughs of the hemlock-pine, as a substitute for bed and blan- 
 kets. And thirdly, in front of the tent, their faces glowing 
 with health and heat, and their twenty toes cosily turned to 
 the blazing fire, sat my friends, the moose-hunter and his com- 
 rade, who had been awaiting my return to commence opera- 
 tions upon the contents of the kettle. A jovial party were 
 we. Scalding potatoes, plucked daringly out of the pot, and 
 skinned with our fingers, never had so fine a flavour; bread, 
 which had been sat upon by Jacques for a couple of days, 
 never was so rich and sweetj bacon, stuck on the end of a 
 forked stick, and frizzled over the red embers, never ate to 
 such a relish ; and water scooped up from Grande Mere, and 
 topped with its sparkling foam, never smacked so much of 
 champaign, from the day water wa"s first invented, to the mo- 
 ment it was raised to our thirsty lips that memorable and 
 eventful night. The meal once despatched, and a variety of 
 facetious jokes cracked, each stretched himself blissfully upon 
 the couch already described, and lay alternately watching the 
 fire and the stars, till, lulled by the roar of the falls, and ex- 
 hausted by the fatigues of the day, our eyes involuntarily 
 closed, and we all three fell fast asleep. 
 
 HEAP THE SIXTEENTH. 
 
 In effecting my descent from a lofty and almost perpendicu- 
 lar crag, the evening of our encampment at the falls, I had 
 been so unfortunate as to tear out the back of my coat. This 
 incident, together with the fact of there being a slight breeze 
 abroad, will, I think, sufficiently account for my having crept 
 
96 WHITTLINOS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 out of the tent at an early hour the next morning, to the dying 
 embers of our forest fire. Nor was the measure an impolitic 
 one on other grounds, for a select party of about seven wolves 
 were in the act of paying a short visit of ceremony to the pro- 
 vision-bag, and day was just breaking upon Grande Mere. 
 Of the beauty of the latter scene I wish I could give an ade- 
 quate description. It was one that I can never forget, and I 
 sighed for some congenial hearts on the other side the "big 
 salt lake" to enjoy it with me. 
 
 I awoke Baptiste and Jacques, and we"were soon upon the 
 move once more. The tent was struck, and the canoe carried 
 over the height and launched for Grande Pile, which, accord- 
 ing to the information of my guides, was the last " chute " of 
 any importance that would be met with on the black river for 
 some fifteen or twenty leagues. 
 
 From our present position we had a noble view of Grande 
 Mere. I have once or twice alluded to a peculiar rock, rising 
 between, and on the immediate edge of the two cataracts. 
 Owing to the dense mist curling fantastically around it, this 
 might easily now, by a lively imagination, have been mistaken 
 for the sole surviving tower of some sturdy old castle, in an 
 active state of siege. It was fine, also, to mark the contrast 
 presented % the waters above Grande Mere, and those below 
 it; here, all being beauty, gentleness, and peace; and there, 
 nothing but thunder, and fury, and foam, and desperation. 
 
 Towards mid-day, our canoe had shipped so much water, 
 and the tin pot was in such constant requisition, that Baptiste 
 told me it would be necessary for him to run me ashore, light 
 a fire, heat his cement kettle, examine the leaks, and plaster 
 them up. As I had a violent cramp in one leg, and in the 
 other that particularly odd and absurd sensation commonly 
 known as " pins and needles," I expressed my perfect approval 
 of the step, skipped clumsily to the shore, and, leaving the two 
 moose-hunters to kindle a blaze as they best could, struck at 
 once into the forest, making the broadest possible trail, and 
 breaking a branch here and there as I went, to aid me in trac- 
 ing my way back to the river's bank. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 97 
 
 I had never till that moment anything like an adequate 
 conception of the grandeur and solemnity of an American 
 forest. The stillness was truly appalling ; not a bough creaked, 
 not a leaf stirred, not a dewdrop fell ; and when I got up a 
 shout, just by way of trying the effect of it, it absolutely 
 startled myself, and induced a sort of suspicion that the grave 
 old trees were quite shocked at my familiarity. A young 
 squirrel, too, put his head noiselessly from his hole in a rotten 
 cedar, and regarded me with an air of such unqualified dis- 
 gust, that I did not dream of attempting a disturbance of 
 the kind again. Many of these stately pines must have been 
 the growth of centuries. Some huge old fellows were reduced 
 to touchwood. Some, perhaps tired of their existence and 
 bent on suicide, had kicked up their thousand heels into the 
 air, and dived head foremost into the St Maurice. Some 
 (probably a freak of the late hurricane) had been lifted com- 
 pletely from the ground, and, lying full length along the 
 shoulders of their comrades, looked as though they were being 
 carried away for interment; while others, stripped of every 
 branch and twig, and tapering beautifully to a point, protruded 
 far over the bank of the river, and looked like deserted fishing- 
 rods, of dimensions suitable to the requirements of that famed 
 angler who is said to have " sat upon a rock and bobbed for 
 whale." So closely, indeed, did they resemble the implements 
 alluded to, that I was in momentary expectation of coming 
 upon some gentleman of correspondingly gigantic proportions, 
 seated calmly on the bank, with eyes fastened upon his float, 
 and a bait-can resting on his knees, 
 
 Among the many novel and curious spectacles this rude 
 scramble exhibited to me, however, was one which amused me 
 more than all the rest put together, and one for which I for a 
 long time vainly puzzled myself to account. I had seen the 
 same thing once or twice before, but on a much smaller scale. 
 A colossal pine, with a whimsicality more befitting a clown in 
 a pantomime than a grave old tree, had wrenched itself, to- 
 gether with a few dozen tons of earth, from the spot where it 
 grew, and taken up a position just the reverse of that in which 
 
98 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 nature had placed it. Its world of withered foliage rested 
 where its roots should have been, and its roots, which were a 
 forest in themselves, flourished precisely where you ought to 
 have looked for the branches. Whether this pine had mis- 
 conducted itself, and been compelled to assume this position 
 by way of penance, or whether the antic was a private pastime 
 and conceit in which it had frequently indulged, but had per- 
 formed once too often, I am equally at a loss to say; but there 
 it was, and there it would most probably remain till it rotted 
 and crumbled to powder. Having spent half-an-hour in the 
 contemplation of this natural curiosity, I began to move lei- 
 surely on, and presently, happening to glance earthward, caught 
 a glimpse of an enormous rat at his dinner, which, the instant it 
 became conscious of my presence, gave vent to so shrill and pro- 
 longed a yell, that I was compelled, in mercy to the animal, and 
 in consideration for my own ears, to effect as hasty a retreat 
 as existing circumstances rendered it convenient for me to do. 
 But where was Baptiste? and where was Jacques? and 
 where was the river? I knew not; and every attempt I made 
 to extricate myself from the dilemma served only to plunge 
 me more deeply into it. I had discharged my pistol an hour 
 or two before, and, not having my powder-flask with me, was 
 unable to intimate my misfortune to the moose-hunters; I had 
 no compass to point out the course I should take; and I was 
 not the possessor of that remarkable instinct which enables the 
 red man to steer his course aright, even through wildernesses 
 in which he is an utter stranger; so, being altogether at a 
 loss for an expedient, I fell into a rage, and sat down fiercely 
 at the foot of a tree. I had not been long there, when, fancy- 
 ing I heard footsteps, I listened, and the next minute a deer 
 shot past with the rapidity of a swallow on the wing. The 
 thought occurred to me that this deer had perhaps been alarmed 
 at the sight of the hunters ; and springing joyfully to my feet, 
 I ran in the direction from which it had approached. My 
 conjecture proved a correct one; and shortly afterwards I re- 
 joined the two guides, who stared at me, and asked if monsieur 
 had had an. encounter with a bear. My face, they told me, 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 99 
 
 was covered with blood, which I could only account for in the 
 following way* In crossing a ravine some minutes previously, 
 I had resorted to the trunk of a prostrate cedar, which formed 
 a sort of natural bridge from bank to bank, and promised a 
 safe footing. On reaching the middle of it, however, the rotten 
 and treacherous timber gave way beneath my tread, and I 
 suddenly found myself buried to the ears in the tree, with my 
 legs overhanging the frightful abyss a position in which I 
 must have borne a striking resemblance to one of those sym- 
 metrical birds, whose prodigious length of limb (according to 
 Goldsmith) obliges them to thrust those preposterous members 
 through the bottoms of their nests, as the necessary prelimi- 
 nary to their getting in, and sitting upon their young. 
 
 The canoe had been a great sufferer. Baptiste had dressed 
 five of its wounds, and the pitch-kettle was now being heated 
 for a sixth. The little craft had received so many gashes and 
 abrasions, that its bottom, daubed over here and there with the 
 dark cement, presented a very similar appearance to that 
 usually exhibited by the mouth and features of some interest- 
 ing child that has been bountifully regaled upon bread and 
 treacle. The birch bark, too, was so thin and delicate a ma- 
 terial, that none but a keen and experienced eye could have 
 discovered these wounds; but few things escaped the observa- 
 tion of the moose-hunter, who, with his eagle glance roving 
 hither and thither about the canoe-bottom, wore very much 
 the air of a learned and lynx-eyed counsel endeavouring to 
 detect a flaw in some carefully-worded indictment. 
 
 Grande Pile has its attractions, but it will not bear a com- 
 parison with either Le Gras, Grande Mere, or Shawinne- 
 gamme. The height of the fall is not great. Its charm does 
 not consist so much in this, as in its picturesque beauty, and 
 the frantic haste with which it leaps and struggles among the 
 fine rocks that are scattered around. It has evidently an ap- 
 pointment a few miles below, and is some minutes behind the 
 time. It dashes down a slight descent trips tumbles 
 throws half-a-dozen desperate somersets gathers itself up 
 and is off again like lightning^ 
 
100 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 Art, or rather accident, had lent an additional beauty to* 
 Grande Pile. A pine log had drifted down, and stuck itself 
 bolt upright between two masses of riven rock. The waters 
 came thundering impetuously along, and finding the log pre- 
 pared to dispute the passage with them, leaped gallantly over 
 it, forming, as they did so, a very pretty and graceful frill of 
 milk-white foam. 
 
 HEAP THE SEVENTEENTH. 
 
 The spot chosen by Baptiste for our encampment to-night, 
 in point of savage wildness, surpassed anything I had yet seen. 
 The tent was pitched in the bottom, or bed, of a gloomy ravine, 
 which was hemmed in on every side by solemn cedars and 
 grim overhanging cliffs. Salvator Rosa would have been quite 
 at home in such a spot. A little stream bubbled at our feet, 
 and the bleached bones of a full-grown moose (that had pro- 
 bably been hunted by the wolves, and crawled thither to 
 breathe his last) rested on a rock hard by. Baptiste said he 
 had passed a night in this ravine some years previously, when 
 one of his party was dreadfully mangled by a bear. The 
 hunter (as usual in such encounters), on seeing the animal 
 approach him, put his back against a tree, and threw his arms 
 above his head. The bear immediately went to grapple him, 
 and the hunter made two attempts to rip up the brute's belly 
 with his knife, but that weapon, having by some mischance 
 got reversed, failed in its duty. The third gash was more 
 effectual; the bear fell back, mortally wounded, and the Indian, 
 fainting from loss of blood, was believed by 'his comrades to be 
 a dead man. It appears, however, that he recovered. Bap- 
 tiste having finished the relation of this startling story, fol- 
 lowed it up with another more startling still. He thrust his 
 head into the provision bag; withdrew it, all over crumbs; 
 aud said he was sorry to inform monsieur that the bread, pota- 
 toes, and pork, would not hold out much longer, and it was 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 101 
 
 lucky we had got to our journey's end. With this strong ap- 
 peal to his feelings, Jacques (who was a tolerable trencherman) 
 thrust his features into the bag also, and, when they again be- 
 came visible, their expression had undergone such a change that 
 I at first scarcely recognised them. It was evident that the 
 strictest economy would be requisite; I therefore ordered Bap- 
 'tiste to deal out the potatoes and pork sparingly, and not to 
 help me more bountifully than he did himself-; for hitherto I 
 had generally received the lion's share. 
 
 Baptiste said he was sorry that the provisions were beginning 
 to fail us, as he should have wished to take monsieur a few 
 leagues further, and show him the big bald rock from which 
 Jacques arid he had once nearly been hurled headlong. My 
 curiosity was excited, and I begged the moose-hunter to relate 
 the adventure, which he did, in as nearly as possible the fol- 
 lowing words : 
 
 "Jacques as monsieur must by this time be well aware 
 is an extremely pert and impudent fellow; and nothing 
 would satisfy him, one quiet day, as we were passing the big 
 rock I spoke of just now, but going ashore and clambering to 
 the top of it, I told him he was a fool, but it was no use > 
 Jacques would go; and, having nothing better to do, I went 
 with him. Had he been anything but my brother-in-law, and 
 a good-natured lad to boot, I would have knocked him over 
 with the paddle, and had my own way in the matter; but 
 things were to be otherwise. Well, so we scaled the crag, 
 monsieur. There was a fine view, and Jacques was pleased; 
 I was not, for my eye rested on a little dark cloud away to 
 windward, and I knew, by the heat of the day, and an odd 
 sort of feel I had about the nostrils, that there was something 
 wrong. ' There it comes,' cried I, pointing to the cloud, ' and 
 now let us get down again as quickly as we can.' Jacques saw 
 there was no time to be lost, and we were just about to descend, 
 when our caps were blown away, and the wind threw us on 
 our faces. They say drowning men catch at straws; a busii 
 or a twig would have been our salvation, but there was neither, 
 and the gale rolled us over and over in the direction of the 
 
1 02 WHITTLJXGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 precipice. We seized each other's hands, thinking to offer 
 some resistance. No nothing could stand before it, and 
 away we were whisked to the very edge. A thought then struck 
 me. I roared to Jacques to grasp me tight, and felt for my 
 knife. Diable ! I had left it in the canoe, but I caught a glimpse 
 of Jacques* sticking in his- belt, and, snatching it out, drove 
 the blade, just as we were gliding from the rock, deep into a 
 crevice and there we hung! I thought the tendons of my 
 wrist would have snapped but they held bravely, and we 
 were saved.'* 
 
 ******* 
 
 It was the dead of a dark night. Our fire had burned out. 
 Not a breath of air was in motion, and no sound of any kind 
 (save the mellow murmur of the little brook) was audible. 
 There were a few stars twinkling in the far black heaven, and 
 I was lying under the tent contemplating them, when a long 
 loud ear-piercing yell rang through the echoing forest. Bap- 
 tiste (who always lay with one eye and ear open) sprang 
 nimbly to his legs, and at the same tinie, with his unshodden 
 foot, gave his- sleeping brother-in-law so eloquent an admoni- 
 tion to bestir himself, that Jacques was soon, upon has legs also,, 
 and together the two hunters slid from the tent. Baptiste re- 
 quested me to remaia where I was, but I did not feel inclined 
 to forego a share in the adventure, and began to grope for the 
 axe, which was not to be found, so I presumed that the moose- 
 hunter had taken it with him. I succeeded, however, in ap- 
 propriating to myself the stoutest of the three paddles, and 
 with that implement to pioneer my steps, I stole forth ; but, in 
 doing so,, brought my cranium in-to such violent contact with a 
 tree, that the forest for miles around sparkled and flashed for 
 an instant like a second Vauxhall. A perfect silence reigned 
 once more, but I could hear and see nothing whatever of 
 Baptiste, nor of Jacques, and was, of course, quite at a loss to 
 know what construction, to put on the strange sounds that had 
 roused us from our slumbers;, as my head therefore had come 
 into sharp contact with another tree or two, and I had just de- 
 tected myself in the act of stepping from a tall rock into 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 103 
 
 about twenty yards depth of atmosphere, I deemed it only pru- 
 dent to retrace my way to the tent, from which I conceived 
 myself to be distant about one hundred paces. 
 
 Instead of striding a hundred paces in the direction of the 
 tent, I took precisely that number in an opposite course, and 
 then, hearing a twig snap, paused to listen. The next mo- 
 ment, a dark object slipped between me and the sky, and con- 
 tinued to steal noiselessly onward. In retreating a step to allow 
 it to pass, I trod on another of those dry, brittle, tell-tale little 
 pieces of stick with which the forests abound, and this impru- 
 dent indication of my where-about, was very nearly giving the 
 adventure a fatal turn. The dark mass made a sudden bound 
 forward, and a heavy weapon whistling through the air buried 
 itself deep in the bough of a tree that stretched close above my 
 head, whereupon I gave the paddle a flourish, and brought the 
 flat of it sharply down upon Baptiste's sconce; who laughed, 
 and cried, " Ah, pardonnez, monsieur, I took you for a moose, 
 and that branch above you for your horns. Ma foi, but I 
 nearly brained you ! " 
 
 We returned to the tent. Jacques was not there. Baptiste, 
 rubbing his bruised crown very much a la Punch, said he had 
 never heard such an odd noise in the forest before, and didn't 
 at all know what to make of it. He suspected that a deer had 
 been set upon by wolves, and sallied out in expectation of fall- 
 ing in for a share of the carcass; but he found all perfectly 
 quiet. Jacques, though, who had a pretty keen nose and 
 penetrating eyes, would perhaps be able to throw some light 
 upon the matter; and presently in Jacques came, puffing very 
 hard, and flinging his long body down upon the hemlock 
 boughs with the air of a man in the last stage of exhaustion. 
 
 Jacques' story ran as follows: He, like Baptiste, suspected 
 the cry to have come from a wounded deer, and picking 
 his way cautiously up the ravine, presently found himself 
 on the brink of a precipice. A new suspicion then struck 
 him, and swinging his body into a tree, he slid down it to the 
 ground. He had no sooner reached that, than his ear caught 
 the thick breathing of a wretched moose, which had over- 
 
104 WH1TTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 stepped itself in the darkness, and fallen down the steep. 
 Jacques sprang upon him and felt for his knife, but he had 
 left that in the potato-kettle. The moose thus attacked made 
 a strong effort to rise, and in the struggle knocked Jacques 
 down, and would have gored him, had not the latter skipped 
 expeditiously out of the way, and seized the animal by the 
 hind leg and tail. Encumbered in this way, the moose ral- 
 lied his little remaining strength, and dragging the resolute 
 hunter after him, struck at once for the river, into which they 
 both rolled together, when the moose succeeded in recovering 
 his liberty, and Jacques had to swim for his life. 
 
 HEAP THE EIGHTEENTH. 
 
 The morning proving brilliant and favourable, and Baptiste 
 feeling anxious to be on the move, the tent was struck, the 
 canoe launched, and we shaped our course for Shawinnegamme. 
 As we were now homeward bound, and there was a powerful 
 current, but slight exertion with the paddle was necessary, and 
 the two moose-hunters had an easy time of it. I asked Bap- 
 tiste what he thought of shooting the Grande Pile rapids. He 
 shook his head decisively, and said he dared not; but, if I 
 pleased, he would shoot La petite Pile, though even that was 
 hazardous with so small a canoe. 
 
 LA PETITE PILE. On approaching this rapid, I saw that the 
 river stole calmly on for about a hundred yards, and then, the 
 current becoming very strong, filed off to the right, and termi- 
 nated in a succession of white boiling waves, and a sudden fall 
 of from three to four feet. Baptiste told me to lie down along 
 the bottom of the canoe, and stir neither hand nor foot. He, 
 on his knees, was directing the little bark's course, while 
 Jacques, similarly deposited in the bows, obeyed his friend's 
 slightest suggestion. Now we begin to feel the current, and 
 now the expression of the moose-hunter's features becomes more 
 earnest and animated. Now we are in the rapids, and anon, 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 105 
 
 rushing onward with the speed of an arrow, we gain the edge 
 of the fall. Baptiste plunges his paddle fiercely in first on 
 one side, and then on the other cries " Sacre!" between his 
 set teeth ; and, while his eyes appear almost on the eve of leap- 
 ing from their sockets, the canoe springs into the air hangs 
 there for a moment there is an intense splash Jacques* straw 
 covering is snatched by a whirlwind from his brows we are 
 enveloped in foam and the " chute" is shot cleverly. 
 
 Acting upon a seasonable suggestion of Monsieur Jacques 
 (who was a great genius in a small way), we landed in a shady, 
 picturesque little nook of forest, to shelter ourselves from the 
 blazing sun, which had played upon our countenances till they 
 resembled so many copper kettles. The moose-hunter and his 
 comrade, to improve the time, stretched themselves out luxu- 
 riously on the mossed turf, and fell into a state of the most en- 
 viable unconsciousness; while I, relapsing into a habit which, 
 like all evil propensities, is more easily acquired than overcome, 
 committed myself as follows : 
 
 TO M : 
 
 All bliss be thine, my gentle friend, 
 
 On this thy natal day; 
 I pledge thee in the wilderness, 
 
 Five thousand miles away. 
 
 The hush of a sweet summer's noon 
 
 Is brooding over all; 
 'Twill not permit one leaf to stir, 
 
 Nor let a dewdrop fall. 
 
 Two swarthy hunters of the west 
 
 Lie sleeping at my feet; 
 And so profound a stillness reigns, 
 
 I hear their bold hearts beat ! 
 
 Through foaming gorge, and rude ravine, 
 
 And forests dim and dark, 
 Full many a weary league we've roved, 
 
 In yonder birchen bark ! 
 
 But where art thou] and where all all 
 
 My lonely heart holds dear] 
 I think upon them with a sigh, 
 
 And check a rising tear. 
 
106 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 Ah, how I envy yonder sun, 
 
 That peeps the forest o'er 
 'Tis but a few hours since he gazed 
 
 Upon my native shore ! 
 
 How often fancy bears me back 
 
 Across the gloomy main, 
 To the sweet valley that I love, 
 
 And ne'er may see again: 
 
 To that sweet valley where we roam'd 
 
 In sunny days of yore, 
 And that dear, happy cottage home,. 
 
 Which is your home no more 1 
 
 I see it yet each primrose path 
 
 Where we when children stray'd r 
 The rugged hill we used to- climb 
 
 The garden where we play'd 
 
 The stream that rippled at its foot 
 
 The bridge, and willow tree; 
 There's not a spot in the wide world 
 
 Has half such charms for me. 
 
 "Whene'er I think of hours like those,, 
 
 My heart grows sadly chill; 
 Would would that such were yet in store, 
 
 And we were children still ! 
 
 " I beg monsieur's pardon," cried Baptis-te, leaping to his 
 feet. " Lazy hound that I am, I fear I hare been asleep." 
 
 ' I know not how otherwise to account for some very odd 
 sounds that I have heard," said I, laughing;, " but why did you 
 twice unsheath your knife ?" 
 
 " That brings the whole thing to my recollection," replied 
 the moose-hunter. " I have at home a pretty little blue-eyed 
 girl, with flaxen hair, and I dreamed that mischief had befallen 
 her. I shall be glad to proceed, when monsieur is ready." 
 
 Monsieur was soon ready, and afloat once more, and in a few 
 minutes we overtook two Indian gentlemen and their ladies, 
 the proprietors of a large quantity of horns and skins (the pro- 
 duce of their last winter's hunt), which they were conveying 
 down to the settlements for disposal. I was not very favour- 
 ably impressed by this party. The red men were two of the 
 most sinister and impertinent-looking fellows that I thought I 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 107 
 
 had ever seen, and their squaws were correspondingly brazen 
 and frightful. Baptiste (as our provision-bag was in a state of 
 collapse) wished to treat with them for some bruised corn and 
 maple sugar, but the uglier of the two red men said they had 
 none to spare, and cracked a rather indelicate joke at our ex- 
 pense. The moose-hunter's eyes flashed fire, and he muttered 
 something in an under-tone to Jacques. The features of 
 Jacques brightened, and he slightly altered his position. We 
 were about to shoot a rapid. Baptiste intended to take the 
 lead, but the foremost Indian, with a clever stroke of his paddle, 
 darted past us, and urged his canoe into the current. The 
 moose-hunter, with a smothered oath, made a tremendous effort, 
 which bent his pine blade almost double; our little craft, obe- 
 dient to the impulse, shot like a beam of light down the rapid, 
 and, coming broadside on to that of the red men, capsized it, 
 and left them sprawling in the flood. Shaking the white foam 
 from my jacket, and dashing the spray from my eye, I inquired 
 of the laughing hunters whether that was premeditated. " Oui, 
 monsieur," they shouted, nodding their heads, " oui, oui, oui" 
 then, glancing back to the enraged red men, " Adieu, mes 
 cheres enfans adieu!" 
 
 GRANDE MERE again. The portage here had to be made 
 over a bold hill, and down a steep descent; and to walk steadily, 
 even empty-handed, down this descent, after a smart shower 
 of rain had done its best to render the ground as slippery as 
 possible, was no easy matter; and such I found it. When I 
 came to the brow of the slope, I prudently allowed the younger 
 guide to lead the way. He managed a first and a second step 
 pretty well, and a third, and even a fourth, and then he gave a 
 great stride, and shot, bundle, kettles, and all, to the very 
 bottom. It was now my turn. Hesitation was useless. I 
 made two strides, my heels flew into the air, and when I looked 
 round, I found myself sitting, in a very journeyman -tailor-like 
 attitude, upon a heap of leaves, with my back to the trunk of 
 a huge pine. With an air of some chagrin, I quietly gathered 
 up my axe and paddles, and stood awaiting the arrival of the 
 moose-hunter, whom I confidently expected to see shoot the 
 
108 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST, 
 
 declivity with a celerity similar to that exhibited by Jacques 
 and myself; but I had reckoned without my host. Baptiste, 
 with the heavy canoe upon his head, strode boldly to the top of 
 the hill, and then majestically down it, without so much as a 
 stumble. Once, in a particularly greasy part, I saw the corners 
 of his mouth pucker up, and his left eye wink, it is true, but 
 that was all. Subsequently to this, I did not feel astonished 
 at anything he did. Had I lost sight of Baptiste for a few 
 minutes, and then discovered him balancing his person upon, 
 the extreme tip of his nose, on the topmost twig of the tallest 
 pine, I should have surveyed him with perfect calmness, and 
 viewed the feat as one which he had done forty times before, 
 and was in the habit of going through once or twice every 
 day. 
 
 We began to see now that it would be impossible for us to 
 reach Trois Rivieres until late the next evening, and already 
 our provisions were no more. Jacques, however, remarked 
 that a baked squirrel was by no means an objectionable dish, 
 so we all stepped ashore, and into the forest, when he produced 
 his knife, cut a tough twig, shaped it into a bow, applied a piece 
 of cord to it, trimmed an arrow, and began to beat for game* 
 A diminutive chitmunk sat washing his face on a bough near. 
 He did not escape the quick eye of Jacques, who was about to 
 draw, when Baptiste, with a comical application of his foot, 
 caused his brother-in-law to desist, and glide into cover of a 
 pine. Baptiste, making a signal for perfect silence, fell flat 
 upon the ground, and writhed himself away with the stealthi- 
 ness of an adder. Glancing through an opening in the green 
 foliage, I saw, at a little distance, a noble buck bending to a 
 " salt lick." A leaf happening to fall, he tossed up his antlered 
 head, and stood listening, in an attitude of intense attention, 
 not unmingled with alarm ; while Baptiste, reappearing within 
 twenty yards of his intended victim, raised the fatal hatchet, 
 and let it fly. The axe was well aimed, and whistling fairly 
 onward to the mark; but the gallant buck, startled by the 
 flash of the flying steel, allowed it to slip past him, and bury 
 itself in a tree; then, bounding suddenly forward, he leaped 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 109 
 
 ever the outwitted hunter and his brandished knife, and plunged 
 into the depths of the forest. 
 
 SHAWINNEGAMME. There was a cloud of mist and spray 
 rising over the tree-tops, and a perpetual roar as of a hundred 
 pieces of artillery. Silently we floated down the smooth and 
 treacherous river, almost^ the edge of the hidden falls, then 
 shot off to the right for the portage, launched again, and landed 
 at the foot of a small mountain, over which we pushed our way 
 to the brink of the broad chasm that gaped between us and the 
 cataract. It was a rough but delightful scramble. What with 
 the steep banks we had to climb, and the pools of water we had 
 to jump over, and the obstinate branches we had to creep 
 under, and the prostrate pines we had to walk along; and what 
 with the excitement, and the loss of breath, and the knocks, 
 and the bruises, it formed one of the most agreeable pieces of 
 recreation that I ever enjoyed, and one to which I always look 
 back with considerable interest and satisfaction. 
 
 The precipice on which we stood faced the torrent; and 
 though the "hell of waters" was upwards of two hundred feet 
 beneath us, we were wet to the very skin by the spray, which 
 is continually rising and falling in dense clouds. As at Grande 
 Mere, the larger body of water comes thundering down at once 
 into the wildest and most romantic of glens; while the lesser 
 makes the circuit of an island, and pours itself through a nar- 
 row channel of rock fifty yards in advance, though both pre- 
 sently meet and mingle. I was about to step forward, think- 
 ing to get a better view of the abyss, when Baptiste thrust his 
 fingers into my cravat, and drew me quickly back. The moose- 
 hunter, apologising for the liberty he had taken, gave the ledge 
 on which I had intended to venture my weight, a sharp prod 
 with his pole. " Voila ! " cried the smiling Baptiste, pointing 
 to the loosened mass of earth as it tumbled into the boil- 
 ing cauldron below " that was monsieur, if I not pull him 
 back!" 
 
 For reasons that will at once be intelligible to those who de- 
 light in cataract scenery, I wished to see Shawinnegamme with 
 the sun shining full upon it; but the moment I presented my- 
 
110 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 self, I had to undergo the unspeakable mortification of seeing 
 that luminary (as though it were a premeditated thing) retire 
 abruptly behind the clouds. I was not to be put off in any such 
 way, however, and sat down patiently to await his reappear- 
 ance; nor did I wait in vain. By and by (perhaps under the 
 impression that I had become disheartened, and gone away) 
 he thrust the clouds haughtily aside (just as an emperor might 
 the folds of his tent), and walked majestically out. The daz- 
 zling effect of his golden beams, however, upon so stupendous 
 a body of tumbling water, and the loveliness of the many-tinted 
 bow to which they immediately gave birth, are among those 
 brilliant creations those " forms of light," and " things of 
 beauty," which language can never adequately portray, but 
 which " once seen, become a part of sight," and once received 
 into the mind, are indelibly stamped there, and remain "a joy 
 for ever." 
 
 Jacques (who was always either complaining of hunger, or 
 making an important discovery) intimated by a signal that 
 something of unusual interest was taking place in the valley 
 below. Baptiste and I stepped aside, and looked in the direc- 
 tion of the river. Our friends, the Indians, were in the act of 
 gliding quietly past the base of the little mountain on which we 
 stood. They had recovered their horns and skins, but were 
 manifestly a little sore still, for the taller of the two red men, 
 happening to catch a glimpse of us, brandished his rifle fiercely, 
 and raised a whoop that might have been heard up at Grande 
 Pile. Baptiste said he had no doubt if the " pauvre ga^on's" 
 powder had not been damp, he would, by way of expressing his 
 kind feeling to our party, have presented us with a spare bit or 
 two of lead. While he was yet speaking, the moose-hunter, 
 closely followed by Jacques, leaped over a fallen hemlock, and 
 toge'ther went scampering madly down the steep. As I was 
 not a little anxious to learn what could have called for so 
 strange and unexampled an exhibition of agility, I at once fol- 
 lowed suit, vaulting over the prostrate pine as nimbly as my 
 weary limbs would enable me, and swinging myself down by 
 the overhanging boughs, till I reached the small patch of clear- 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. Ill 
 
 ing which Baptiste had chosen for the scene of our nightly 
 bivouac. 
 
 A single glance put me in possession of the whole state of 
 affairs here. The Indians contemplated seizing upon our 
 canoe, and shoving it off into the rapids a piece of rascality 
 which would have put a stop to our procedure down the river, 
 and caused us a great deal of annoyance and trouble. With a 
 few dexterous strokes of the paddle, they diverged from the 
 main stream, and pushed for shore; but there they paused, for 
 the enraged moose-hunter sprang to the canoe before them, 
 and, placing one leg on either side of it (just as one might be- 
 stride a slain buffalo), brandished the heavy axe above his head, 
 in a manner that struck terror to the hearts of the enemy, and 
 induced them to beat a rapid retreat. Jacques, meanwhile, 
 with his arms folded (though evidently ready to render essen- 
 tial service with them, should occasion demand it), figured no 
 less conspicuously in the background, leaning his long body 
 against a tree, and laughing uproariously at the distorted visages 
 of the two squaws, who, foaming with rage, and shaking their 
 clenched fists wildly at him, were "exhausting their vocabulary 
 of all its choicest and most endearing epithets. 
 
 As the account of our encampment at these falls would be 
 but a recapitulation of what took place on the evening of our 
 sojourn at Grande Mere, I shall forbear to inflict it upon the 
 reader, and perhaps the present moment may not be deemed an 
 inappropriate one for the relation of a short story, the substance 
 of which was communicated to me by my veracious friend the 
 raoose-hunter. We will call it 
 
 A LEGEND OF SH A WINNE G A MME. 
 
 " A choicer spot," Frank Furlough cried, 
 " You'll seek in vain for, far and wide. 
 
 A night once here I spent 
 A jovial night, with best of cheer, 
 For by good luck we shot a deer." 
 " 'Tis well," Big-hatchet said; "then here, 
 
 Methinks we'll pitch our tent." 
 
 Frank Furlough was a handsome youth, 
 A handsomer, you'd scarce, in. sooth, 
 
112 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 Meet in a twelvemonth's walk; 
 His face was like a morn in June, 
 His voice was like a pleasant tune,. 
 His quick bright glance was like the moon 
 
 Upon a tomahawk. 
 
 Big- hatchet was a chief as stout, 
 A good hand at a wrestling bout, 
 
 And mighty as a flood; 
 As bold a brave as ever stepp'd, 
 As sly as any snake that crept, 
 For in his veins there ran and leapt 
 
 A dash of Huron blood. 
 
 They hew'd the logs they lit a fire 
 They heap'd the fuel higher higher 
 
 And supp'd on a bear's ham; 
 And there, with hunter ease and tact, 
 They laugh'd, and talk'd, and bivouack'd, 
 Hard by the mighty cataract 
 
 Of bold Shawinnegamme.* 
 
 The flames illumed the wild strange place, 
 And round each hunter's swarthy face 
 
 Began to slip and play; 
 While, down this lone and grim retreat, 
 In one vast, white, unbroken sheet, 
 The torrent fell two hundred feet, 
 
 And splash'd them with its spray. 
 
 Quoth Furlough, " Joy to thee and thine; 
 About this maid for whom you pine, 
 
 Big-hatchet, let us talk." 
 Big-hatchet's air grew frank and free, 
 He stirr'd the logs with his fusee : 
 " The maid I dote on dwells," quoth he, 
 
 " Beside the blue Mohawk." 
 
 Frank pass'd his hand across his brow 
 " Ha! by the blue Mohawk, said'st thou 1 ? 
 
 'Tis well, I would hear more." 
 " Then lend an ear," returned the chief, 
 " And if the tale should prove too brief, 
 I'll tell of maids I've left in grief, 
 
 Till you might count a score." 
 
 " Then, if 'twould act so base a part, 
 A curse upon thy coward heart ! 
 
 * Pronounced Shaw-win-ne-gam. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 113 
 
 But, hunter, to thy tale. 
 "What of this maiden] Was she fair? 
 What colour were her eyes? her hair? 
 And was her figure plump, or spare? 
 
 Say on, nor look so pale." 
 
 " What boots it now her charms to tell ! 
 The maid was fond I loved she fell 
 Nay, grasp not thy fusee 
 
 I swore to make the nymph my bride " 
 
 " Her name her name," Frank Furlough cried; 
 Big-hatchet laughed, and then replied, 
 . " They call her Miami." 
 
 Up leap'd Frank Furlough at the word, 
 His beating heart's best blood was stirr'd, 
 
 And panted for the fray. 
 Far better that heart's blood were spilt, 
 Than he should live to learn her guilt; 
 The golden castles years had built, 
 One breath now blew away. 
 
 Big-hatchet all the challenge felt, 
 He drew his knife from out his belt 
 
 Fire flashed from his dark eye; 
 No word of insult left his tongue, 
 But fiercely to his feet he sprung, 
 And while hill, glen, and forest rung, 
 
 He raised his battle-cry. 
 
 Short, stern, and deadly was the strife, 
 High-poised in air each death-fraught knife, 
 
 One fearful moment gleam'd; 
 Tight tighter grew Big-hatchet's grasp, 
 Frank Furlough's hand released its clasp; 
 He drew one sigh he gave one gasp 
 
 And forth life's torrent stream'd. 
 
 True to its aim, the reeking blade 
 A passage for his soul had made 
 
 Red ran the forest sod; 
 Big-hatchet's visage paler grew, 
 Around the corse his arms he threw 
 " That I this foul deed could undo, 
 
 God! OGod! OGod!" 
 He felt Frank's heart, if it had heat, 
 He knelt to learn if yet it beat, 
 
 But that was cold and still; 
 Then bitter was his bosom's groan, 
 And sorrow-stung, dejected, lone, 
 
114 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 The dews of morning found his own 
 As lifeless and as chill. 
 
 Long did the faithful Miami 
 
 Keep watch for him she wept to see, 
 
 Beside her cottage door; 
 In vain the sob, in vain the sigh, 
 The tear that gathered in her eye 
 Days, weeks, months, years, roll'd sadly by, 
 
 But Frank return'd no more. 
 
 HEAP THE NINETEENTH. 
 
 I did not contrive to pass the present night quite so com- 
 fortably as I had done the two or three previous ones. A 
 shower of rain had fallen, the fire burned but sulkily, and, 
 owing either to the fatigues I had suffered, or the severe pen- 
 ance my craving stomach had undergone (for a brace of baked 
 squirrels are, at the best, but a slender repast for three hungry 
 men), for several hours I was the victim of a strange and novel 
 species of nightmare, which kept both my mind and body in a 
 state of the most distressing anxiety and bustle. The moose- 
 hunter, like all true Canadians, was in the habit of smoking a 
 little, ugly, black, greasy, clay pipe. This pipe had about an 
 eighth of an inch of stem to it in fact, just enough for his 
 teeth to hold it by, all the rest was bowl and when the con- 
 tents of it were in active combustion, I had always marvelled 
 how it was that his nose, which jutted immediately over them, 
 and looked like a piece of meat broiling, had not long since 
 been reduced to ashes. The presentiment that a calamity of 
 so painful a nature must sooner or later inevitably take place, 
 so possessed me this night, that I fancied the ill-fated feature 
 had at last caught, and was consuming with frightful rapidity. 
 I accordingly jumped up, and made a careful examination of 
 the article in question, but, finding all quite safe, lay down 
 again. A second and a third time I arose, and went through 
 a similar piece of pantomime, and with the same success. At 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 115 
 
 length the idea gained such ground, that, as the readiest mode 
 of quenching the supposed conflagration, and calming my own 
 anxieties, I was compelled to keep one of the kettles, with a 
 good supply of cold water, constantly at hand, and ever and 
 anon pour a portion of its contents gravely over the nasal 
 organ of my sleeping friend, who, far from experiencing any 
 inconvenience from the mode of treatment to which his pro- 
 boscis was subjected, snored away louder and more approving- 
 ly than ever, and remained all the night through in the most 
 blissful unconsciousness of the pleasant piece of service that 
 was being rendered him. 
 
 Towards morning, though it was yet dark, I was awakened 
 by a series of sharp shooting pains in my back and shoulders, 
 and on looking up found that the fire was nearly out. I seized 
 the axe, therefore, procured a fresh supply of fuel, and again 
 had the satisfaction of seeing a blaze big enough to roast a 
 buffalo. But, preferring natural warmth to artificial, I con- 
 tinued my amusement with the axe until I was interrupted by 
 a great snorting and trampling of twigs, which caused me to 
 suspend operations and listen attentively. My first persuasion 
 was, that the moose-hunter had been taken in a fit, but, on 
 peering through the branches in the direction of the tent, I 
 saw him lying motionless, just as I had left him, with his face 
 turned to the sky, and seven or eight of his toes protruding 
 through his grey stockings and glistening in the rays of the 
 fire. A repetition of the same perplexing sounds, somewhat 
 louder than before, ensuing, with a strong effort at composure 
 I walked back to the tent and aroused Baptiste. Baptiste 
 rubbed his eyes, sprang into a sitting posture, felt for his 
 knife, seized the axe, and told me to follow him closely. I 
 filched the tomahawk from the belt of Jacques, and did as I 
 was desired. The moose-hunter slipped cautiously into the 
 forest, and then paused to listen, but the moaning of the wind 
 through the trees was the only sound that was audible. " Did 
 he go so?" asked Baptiste, making an odd noise with his 
 throat. " Precisely, was my reply, and we both listened 
 again. "It was a bear," said the moose-hunter; "but the 
 
116 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 cunning fellow knows that we cannot get at him now. It is 
 no good we may go back; let him come when the sun is up;" 
 and back we went accordingly. I fell asleep once more, and 
 when I awoke it was broad daylight. The two moose-hunters 
 had been killing squirrels for breakfast, and searching for the 
 bear. Baptiste was heaping logs on the fire and laughing. I in- 
 quired the cause of his merriment. " You shall hear, monsieur," 
 said he, shaping a splinter of pine into a spit, and thrusting it 
 through the body of one of the slaughtered squirrels. " Jacques 
 and I go hunt bear. He go one way, and I go one. I see no- 
 thing, hear nothing; Jacques both see and hear. Bear look 
 at him, and run, and he run after bear. Bear go half mile, 
 then stop, turn round, give grunt, and run after Jacques; 
 Jacques now take lead, long legs, and make for river. Bad 
 business run, lose bear; seldom kill bear without fusee. Cut 
 his throat if wait, but no wait. Can't help." 
 
 Breakfast despatched, Baptiste expressed himself ready to 
 proceed; and after paying another visit to, and taking a long 
 farewell gaze at, the glorious Shawinnegamme, I stepped once 
 more into the canoe, and the great cataract's thunders grew 
 each moment fainter and fainter upon my ear. Every stroke 
 of the paddle, however, brought some new beauty to view, the 
 contemplation of which assisted in dispelling the regret I could 
 not help feeling upon leaving a locality so truly sublime. 
 
 Another day rolled over us, evening again drew nigh, and 
 no new adventure presented itself. Baptiste and Jacques had 
 then resort to their pipes and perhaps I shall be pardoned if 
 I resort for a few moments to mine: 
 
 TO MY MOTHER. 
 
 FROM THE BANKS OF THE BLACK RIVER. 
 
 Yes, oft, when on the sleeping main 
 
 The moon has shone serenely bright, 
 And the pure stars, like silver rain, 
 
 Have strewn it o'er with liquid light 
 In the lone mid- watch of the night, 
 
 When slumber had no charms for me, 
 My thoughts would fondly wing their flight 
 
 To home and thee sweet home and thee ! 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 117 
 
 And when, through billows white with wrath, 
 
 Where myriads have met their doom, 
 Our ship has plough'd a foaming path, 
 
 And every billow seem'd her tomb, 
 And fitful lightnings lit the gloom, 
 
 Where would my heart my fancy flee ] 
 Where could they wander, and to whom, 
 
 But home and thee sweet home and thee 1 ? 
 
 Now, too, as down this peaceful stream 
 
 I urge my light canoe along, 
 Past forests bathed in sunset's beam, 
 
 And golden isles all bloom and song: 
 Though not a wild flower blossoms nigh 
 
 But has some gentle charm for me 
 Still, still I think, and thinking sigh 
 
 Of home and thee sweet home and thee ! 
 
 I said that no new adventure had presented itself; but we 
 were not long in meeting with one, which deranged our plans 
 very materially. In shooting a rapid, the canoe came into 
 such violent contact with the sharp ledge of a concealed rock, 
 that we were compelled to abandon it, together with our tent, 
 both kettles, and that indispensable implement the axe, the loss 
 of which rendered us perfectly helpless. Crawling disconso- 
 lately from the scene of the disaster to the river's bank, the 
 two moose-hunters and I sat down and gazed upon each other 
 ruefully. I did not attempt to conceal my chagrin, nor did 
 Jacques, who, rubbing his chest pensively, remarked that he 
 was nearly famished before, and there was a prospect of his 
 being quite so now, if tilings didn't mend. Baptiste was more 
 of a philosopher. Holding up one of his mocassins to drain, 
 and squeezing the water from his grizzly hair, he said we 
 might thank the saints matters were no worse, and must make 
 ourselves as comfortable as we could. Leaving the two 
 hunters to compare notes at their leisure, I climbed the steep 
 bank, and, casting rny eye carelessly over the forest, detected 
 a thin, spiral column of blue smoke stealing up among the 
 green foliage. I suppressed an exclamation of joyful surprise, 
 and acquainted Baptiste with my discovery. Baptiste, spring- 
 ing nimbly to his legs, pushed his head through the interven- 
 ing brushwood (just as a terrier dog would thrust his visage 
 
118 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 into a rat-hole), and took a long survey of the cheering scene; 
 giving Jacques, at the same time, with his unshodden foot, 
 another of those comical prods which had so often excited my 
 risibility. Jacques, being hungry and peevish, was about to 
 make an angry retort, when Baptiste, who happened to have 
 the dripping mocassin still in his hand, clapped it expeditious- 
 ly over the young hunter's mouth, and whispered him not to 
 be a fool, for the Indians were encamped, and cooking their 
 venison within a tomahawk's fling of us. Jacques was all 
 animation at once. Baptiste said that their canoe was some- 
 where at hand, and he would have it. I told him that I would 
 take no part in any such knavish transaction. 
 
 " Why not, monsieur?" urged the moose-hunter; "it is but 
 fair play. Did they not attempt a similar piece of rascality on 
 us up at Shawinnegamme ?" 
 
 " Ah, true, very true, Baptiste ; but that is past, and we 
 will look over it." 
 
 " Then what would monsieur have me do ? We are far 
 from Trois Rivieres, and there is not so much as a hut or 
 shanty within half-a-dozen leagues of us. 
 
 " True again; yes, that is excessively awkward." 
 
 " We have no axe to fell a tree." 
 
 " No, that is bad too, very bad." 
 
 " No knife to scoop it out." 
 
 " That is still worse." 
 
 " And then, we have no provisions." (A heavy groan from 
 Jacques). 
 
 " Ah, that is an important consideration indeed. Well?" 
 
 " We must have the canoe, monsieur." 
 
 " Humph; I think we must." 
 
 " C'est vrai; and we shall only be playing them the return 
 match after all. Did monsieur thoroughly comprehend the 
 dainty joke they cracked yesterday, when we asked for some 
 of their corn and maple sugar ?" 
 
 "No, what was it, Baptiste?" The latter whispered a few 
 words. "The impudent vagabonds!" cried I. "Do what- 
 ever you please, moose-hunter Jacques and I are your men." 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 119 
 
 " Baptiste, who was an accomplished general, proposed the 
 following measures for adoption: He would steal away first, 
 and try to discover the spot where the red men's canoe was 
 secreted. If he was unsuccessful, he would return to us; if 
 the contrary, he would imitate the three taps of a woodpecker, 
 on which signal we were instantly to join him, taking great 
 care, however, to keep in cover of the brushwood, and to avoid 
 making the least noise, which would be fatal to our purpose. 
 These propositions having been seconded and unanimously 
 carried, Baptiste fell flat upon his chest, and writhed himself 
 away with the stealthiness of a boa-constrictor or cobra-di- 
 capello. 
 
 Three minutes, which seemed an age, elapsed, and the ex- 
 pected signal was heard, proceeding apparently from the other 
 side of the small projecting neck of land upon our right. As 
 the St Maurice flowed closely up to, and under this little pro- 
 montory, our only means of passing it was by lowering our- 
 selves to the ears in the water, which we did, and then crawled 
 under shelter of the trees to Baptiste, who, having no knife, 
 was perseveringly endeavouring to unfasten with his teeth the 
 knot that secured the canoe to the shore. Jacques caught up 
 a sharp stone, and tried to saw it, but the thong, which was 
 formed out of the tough bark of the moose-tree, would not 
 yield; nor dared we attempt to break it, as the slighest vibra- 
 tion communicated to the foliage of the young pine would have 
 led to suspicion on the part of the Indians. Jacques, never- 
 theless, with a muttered oath, gave the thong a smart tug, and 
 snapped it, but, in effecting this, he was so imprudent as to re- 
 lease his hold of the stone, which rolled down the bank, and 
 plunged into the river. 
 
 "To cover!" cried Baptiste, as the tramp of a heavy foot 
 fell upon our ears. Three startled rabbits never darted into 
 their burrow with half the agility that the two hunters and I 
 now displayed in springing to the hollow of those overhanging 
 rocks. The ugliest of the Indians, attracted by the plunge of 
 the pebble into the water, had walked hastily down, and was 
 bending curiously over the very spot where we lay concealed. 
 
120 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 Had he been one of those noble, stealthy-stepping, hawk-eyed 
 braves, of whom so much has been said and written, we should 
 not have escaped detection; but as he was, on the contrary, 
 one of a drunken, thievish, and degenerate race, and, moreover, 
 in a great hurry to get back to his venison of which he had 
 his mouth rather inconveniently full he came to the conclu- 
 sion that the sound must have been produced by either the 
 jumping of a fish after a fly, or the fall of a fragment of dead 
 timber from a tree-top, and returned to finish his meal. Bap- 
 tiste put up his head, gave a quaint nod at the Indian's re- 
 treating figure, and cried, "Aliens!" In a moment we all 
 three jumped into the canoe, and urged it into the current. 
 Jacques, rising to his full height, flourished his paddle and 
 uttered a shrill whoop; two dusky figures were seen bounding 
 through the forest in the distance; an island blotted them from 
 our sight and we were gone ! 
 
 A few hours afterwards we reached Trois Rivieres; and 
 feeling anxious to make the Indians some reparation for the 
 inconvenience we had occasioned them, I extorted a promise 
 from Baptiste that he would paddle up the river before day- 
 light the next morning, and moor the stolen canoe to a little 
 island which the red men would have to pass on their way 
 down to the settlements. Having eased my conscience in this 
 particular, I gladly availed myself of the moose- hunter's press- 
 ing invitation to go and see his wife and child, and take supper 
 with them. Julie was a handsome woman, just in her bloom ; 
 and Victoire one of the prettiest little girls I have ever seen. 
 Her eyes were of the softest, sweetest blue; her waving hair 
 of the glossiest auburn ; and she looked as though, like one of 
 Byron's early inspirations, she had been made out of a sun- 
 beam, or a rainbow. 
 
 I had intended to proceed to Montreal the same evening, 
 but the steamer by which I should have taken my passage left 
 the wharf as I arrived upon it. " N'importe, monsieur," said 
 Baptiste; "you must go back and make love again to Yictoire. 
 There will be another boat to-morrow, and everything happens 
 for the best." The words were yet upon his lips, when a sud- 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 121 
 
 den gleam of sickly yellow light threw a momentary glare over 
 the broad St Lawrence; there was a loud explosion; and five- 
 and-thirty human beings were hurried into eternity. The 
 boiler of the vessel had burst, and she lay a mere wreck upon 
 the waters. 
 
 HEAP THE TWENTIETH. 
 
 Before I continue my story, let me hold a moment's parley 
 with the indulgent reader. It is extremely probable that in 
 accompanying me through the WHITTLINGS, he may meet with a 
 great deal of which he strongly disapproves. I would, therefore, 
 remind him, that, in writing a purely fictitious work, an author 
 is enabled to pitch the tone of it as high as he pleases, and to 
 select such characters and scenery as are likely to give general 
 satisfaction; but in rendering an account of his peregrina- 
 tions, a traveller cannot enjoy these privileges. He must 
 either describe the things and the" people he has actually seen 
 and met with, or he must forbear to describe at all. I am 
 placed in the latter position. Let the reader, then, be so gene- 
 rous as to suppose, that all such passages in the present work 
 as elicit his approbation, have my own countenance and ap- 
 proval also; and that, on the other hand, all such as are pro- 
 ductive of a contrary result, are the very passages I would fain 
 have omitted, and feel anxious to wash my hands of at once. 
 
 To resume. The village, or settlement, or town of Three 
 Rivers, did not boast any very novel or extraordinary at- 
 tractions. The principal street was about two feet thick in 
 mud; and, from the engaging appearance of it in the dry 
 season, I could readily conceive what a delicate promenade it 
 would offer to a person provided with thin shoes in a wet one. 
 The wooden houses looked old and dirty, and those who in- 
 habited them dirtier still. I walked into two or three stores, . 
 and out again, finding nothing in any of them to awaken either 
 curiosity or interest, except, perhaps, the fine, dignified coun- 
 
122 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 tenance of an Indian chief, whose wife was aiding him in the 
 selection of a pair of smallclothes, and who, with the view of 
 thoroughly testing their suitableness, had put them on with their 
 less picturesque feature in front a slight mistake, which the 
 storekeeper was so obliging as to rectify. From the town I 
 then wandered down to the banks of the St Maurice, and from 
 the banks of the St Maurice back to the hotel, about the dcor 
 of which a large crowd had collected. 
 
 Elbowing my way through the rabble, I inquired of a pale, 
 interesting-looking young man, what had occurred to bring so 
 many people together. He pointed to a deal box at his feet, 
 sighed, shed tears, and turned away. My curiosity was stirred, 
 and I repeated the query to a cobbler, who had a pipe in his 
 mouth, and a last under his arm. 
 
 " Some months since, sir," said the cobbler, "that young 
 gentleman's father disappeared in a rather mysterious manner, 
 arid as he was known to travel with a good deal of money about 
 him, it was thought he had been murdered. Nothing was 
 ever heard of him till the other day, when, as some Indians 
 were picking their way through a lonely bit of forest, a few 
 miles from here, they came upon a heap of bones, which the 
 son of the missing gentleman afterwards recognised as those of 
 his father; so he put them into yonder box, and is now going 
 to take them up with him to Montreal, where the matter will 
 be looked into by the authorities." 
 
 " Has there been foul play, think you?" asked I. 
 
 The cobbler, who had just had his toe trodden upon, drew 
 the last suddenly from under his arm, gave a small pert boy a 
 smart rap upon the head with it, and replied "No; I rather 
 suspect, as his money and watch were found on him, that he 
 was eaten by the wolves." 
 
 At midnight, the Montreal boat arrived, and, accompanied 
 by the young man with the deal box, I stepped on board her. 
 The late explosion had made me rather shy of steamboat 
 boilers, and I gave our present ones as wide a berth as possible. 
 I went below, and was just in time to witness a rather novel 
 piece of buffoonery, on the part of a well-made handsome young 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 123 
 
 man of colour, who had a pair of the largest whiskers I have 
 ever seen if I except those belonging to a Saracen's head, that 
 I once beheld swinging over an inn door. The sides of the ele- 
 gant saloon were fitted up with double rows of sleeping places, 
 and each of these sleeping places was furnished with a pair of 
 damask curtains, which could be pulled forward, or pushed back, 
 just as people chose to have them. Most of these, however, 
 were closed, and the coloured gentleman was amusing himself 
 by visiting each of the sleepers in turn, dashing back the rich 
 folds that concealed his recumbent person, and administering 
 him a smart punch in the chest, observing, at the same time, 
 with an irresistible swagger, and outward thrusting of his ex- 
 tended palms " Do what you please, sir; I am a white man 
 do whatever you please." The passengers were, one and all, 
 of course, very much incensed at this impertinence; brows 
 were knit, teeth were ground, fists were clenched, and the 
 captain was sent for; but that functionary, who was evidently 
 much frightened, declined interfering, and returned hastily to 
 the deck. What of that? there was a half-pay officer on board, 
 a fierce, fire -eating sort of personage, who would stand no non- 
 sense. He had received his punch, and was just looking from 
 between the curtains to inquire what it meant; which he had 
 no sooner learned, than he jumped out of his berth, and, quite 
 resolved to redress the general grievance or die, loudly de- 
 manded where the villain was, let him get a glimpse of him, 
 that was all. And that was indeed all, for the coloured gentle- 
 man was no sooner seen approaching, snapping his fingers, and 
 requesting him to do what he pleased, for he had a white man 
 to deal with, than the half-pay officer jumped into his berth 
 again, and drew the curtains together, with a despatch that 
 set everybody laughing, the coloured man included, who, hav- 
 ing visited all the passengers upon the starboard side of the 
 vessel, was now coming deliberately up upon the larboard, 
 punching as he came, and inviting them to do whatever they 
 pleased, for he was a white man a white man a white man. 
 Day at length broke, and, at the imminent risk of being 
 scalded, I went on deck; for the cabin was so unpleasantly 
 
124 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 close, and the not fleas nor mosquitoes were so numerous 
 and exacting, that I was compelled, in my own defence, to re- 
 sort to the open air. The morning was fine, and the river had 
 not a ripple. A raft, of about a quarter of a mile in length, 
 was upon our one quarter, and a sooty steamboat, with eight 
 or ten unfortunate merchant vessels in tow, upon our other. 
 It was an amusing thing for any but the owners and naviga- 
 tors of these vessels, to witness the confusion that prevailed 
 among them. The bellowing of the captains, the blustering of 
 the mates, and the shouts and blasphemies of the respective 
 crews, formed a Babel not easy of conception by those who 
 have never heard an uproar of the kind. Each vessel, as it 
 was pulled along, got "athwart the others' hawse." No. 1 
 shoved her bowsprit through No. 2's cabin window ; and while 
 they were angrily commenting upon the probable consequences 
 of this disaster, No. 2, with her spanker-boom, scraped off all 
 the gold and gingerbread from the figurehead of No. 3. No. 
 3 immediately swung round, and brought her bow into sharp 
 collision with No. 4. No. 4 gave a lurch, and fell foul of No. 
 5, with a shock that threw a man from her maintop upon his 
 waistcoat over a taut rope, where he dangled about for a few 
 seconds, like something hung to dry. No. 6 then grew a little 
 restive, and poked her foreyard arm through the mainsail 
 of No 7; on which the skipper of No. 7, rushing upon deck, 
 with his red throat bare, and a great knife in his hand, threat- 
 ened the skipper of No. 6 with instant slaughter, if he didn't 
 haul his lubberly craft out of that. The skipper of No. 6, 
 however, merely mimicked him in return, and went through two 
 or three steps of a popular hornpipe on the afterdeck hatch 
 and while affairs were in this encouraging state, the tug-boat 
 ahead clapped on a little more steam, and all her charge, at 
 once influenced by it, jerked, and crashed together again dis- 
 tractedly; when the shouting and confusion attained such an 
 alarming pitch, that I was glad to escape from it, and hurry 
 below to breakfast. 
 
 The scenery of the St Lawrence, above Quebec, will not 
 bear a comparison with that below it. The higher we pro- 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 125 
 
 ceeded, the lower and more insignificant its banks became, and 
 the less interesting the general aspect of things. The Cana- 
 dian farmers appeared to have bound themselves in a solemn 
 league to rid the country of its chief ornament, the timber; 
 and, in place of the beautiful green quickset hedge, that forms 
 one of the prettiest features in an English farm and landscape, 
 I here saw nothing but that odd ungainly contrivance com- 
 monly known as a snake-fence, stretching away over hill and 
 dale, and tiring the eye with its dull monotony. I was glad 
 to have my attention called from these things, to the contem- 
 plation of a gigantic hay-stack, which was coming down the 
 river under a heavy press of sail, at the rate of about six knots 
 an hour. 
 
 Among the many picturesque villages, strewing either shore 
 of the St Lawrence, and commanding my continual admiration, 
 was Sorel, a very pretty place, with a still prettier church, into 
 which (though it was not Sunday), numbers of gaily dressed 
 peasantry were crowding eagerly. As the steamer had put in, 
 and there stood a gentleman on the wharf to whom I happened 
 to have a letter of introduction, I "ran into the cabin for it, and 
 returning, presented the document on the end of a boat-hook. 
 He read it hastily, smiled, and attempted to leap on board, but 
 failed, for at that identical moment the fastenings were let go, 
 the vessel made off, and my new acquaintance slipped into the 
 water. A canoe, however, darted out to his rescue, and he 
 waved his hand cheerfully, as he observed me rushing to the 
 hurricane deck to ascertain his fate. 
 
 HEAP THE TWENTY-FIRST. 
 
 I had made inquiries when I was leaving Quebec, about the 
 different hotels and boarding houses in Montreal, and people 
 said, " If you want to see something of French Canadian life 
 
 and manners, by all means go to the Hotel du C , in the 
 
 Rue St G ; and to the Hotel du C , in the Rue St 
 
126 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 G , accordingly I went. It was a large grey building, 
 
 with a great many windows, and a corresponding number of 
 bright-green shutters; and Madame S , the landlady, hap- 
 pened to be taking her morning air upon the steps. She was 
 a pretty, plump, roguish-looking, little woman, and on learning 
 my business, led me to a big book, in which I subscribed my 
 name. Having complied with this piece of formality, I in- 
 quired of a pale-faced, frog- featured gentleman, who was 
 lounging against the doorway, and smoking a short black pipe 
 with considerable gusto, about what hour the boarders usually 
 breakfasted. He " guessed " that the bell would ring presently, 
 and strongly advised me not to venture away to any distance. 
 He, moreover, said " You are from the old country." 
 
 I replied in the affirmative. 
 
 "Long out?" 
 
 " A few months." 
 
 "Yes?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Do you like Canada?" 
 
 "Very much; do you?" 
 
 "0, some. What do you think of her?" drawing a little 
 closer, and pointing with the pipe stem to madame ; " she's a 
 grass widow." 
 
 " A what? I beg your pardon." 
 
 "A grass widow; which means, that she and her husband 
 have quarrelled, fought, and separated. She's a nice little 
 woman, but " 
 
 "Ha!" 
 
 " She's a terrible termagant; she would whip her weight in 
 wild cats. Don't rouse her there's the bell look out?" 
 
 With the delivery of this friendly warning, my new acquaint- 
 ance thrust the unquenched pipe hastily into his waistcoat 
 pocket, and ran away. Fifty other boarders poured down the 
 staircase in a body; a dozen more hurried in from an adjoin- 
 ing reading-room; half a score from the bar; and the rest in 
 at the street door all in a breathless state of excitement and 
 darting into the breakfast- room, flung themselves upon chairs, 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 127 
 
 and began to eat and drink savagely. Nature's first law was 
 evidently the ruling passion, as well as the order of the day: 
 here one hoarder seized the dish he liked best, and carried 
 it with him to his seat; a second dropped down at once in 
 front of his favourite joint, and before anybody had time to 
 interfere, had stripped it of all the titbits; a third stuck his 
 fork into a fowl or chop, and clawed up a couple of the finest 
 eggs, en passant; a fourth made a successful pounce upon a 
 plate of radishes, and bore it triumphantly away with him, 
 watering the curls and coat collars of the company copiously 
 with the superabundant liquid as he went; while a fifth took 
 a pigeon pie upon his knees, wrenched off the crust, ransacked 
 it of all the daintiest morsels, and disposed of them afterwards 
 with the eagerness of a famished wolf that had fallen upon 
 the carcass of a deer, and was afraid of the main body of 
 the pack coming up to claim a share of the spoil. And all 
 these polite and disinterested little proceedings were the work 
 of such a few moments, that, before I had well recovered from 
 the surprise, which a scene so novel and extraordinary had oc- 
 casioned me, the edibles were consumed, the coffee had disap- 
 peared, and I was left presiding over nothing but empty plat- 
 ters, a stained table-cloth, and three or four gaping waiters. 
 During the meal, I chanced to ask a thin spectral-looking 
 French Canadian, with black hair, if he would be so obliging 
 as to pass the salt, but as he was picking a lengthy marrow 
 bone at the moment engaged in which operation, he strongly 
 resembled a person performing upon an ivory flageolet in- 
 stead of complying with the request, he only opened his great 
 eyes the wider, and shook his head hurriedly, by way of inti- 
 mating that he was busy, and time was valuable; so I did not 
 venture to interrupt him again. 
 
 As I was about to leave the table, three rakish-looking 
 young gentlemen, who had overslept themselves, entered the 
 room and called for coffee. They appeared to be somewhat 
 sharp set, and, withal, rather jocularly disposed. 
 
 "They tell me that No. 27 is going fast," said the first, 
 " and can't live another hour." 
 
128 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 " Very good," replied the second, chopping off the top of an 
 egg with his knife; " I can't help that, can I?" Here there 
 was a laugh. 
 
 "No; but you can at all events defray a part of his funeral 
 expenses, added the third; and as you have not scrupled to 
 borrow his cash occasionally, perhaps a friendly service of the 
 kind would make your conscience sit all the easier." 
 
 "By the by, have you heard the news?" inquired the 
 other, who wished to change the subject. 
 "News? no; what news?" 
 
 " The Quebec theatre has been burned, and sixty or seventy 
 people with it. Haven't you friends there? you had better 
 look over the list of killed and wounded." 
 
 The gentleman to whom these words were addressed, turned 
 deadly pale, smote himself upon the forehead with his clenched 
 fist, and rushed from the table. A few minutes afterwards he 
 lay upon the floor in a fit. He had lost a brother and two 
 sisters in the terrible conflagration. The Canadian who had 
 spoken of the fire, inquired what was the matter, and on 
 learning, went to finish his breakfast. As I ascended the 
 staircase, I passed a crowd upon the landing, and saw several 
 of the boarders endeavouring to force their way in at a door. 
 They were repulsed, however, by somebody inside, and a few 
 violent blows were exchanged. As I returned to inquire into 
 the cause of the disturbance, I felt my sleeve pulled, and on look- 
 ing round, was beckoned by a gentleman, who had sat opposite 
 me at the breakfast table. It was he who had beaten back 
 the others. " You may come in, if you like," he said ; and 
 without knowing why, I followed him, and the door closed. 
 
 A dying youth, whose features even yet retained the traces 
 of much manly beauty, was lying upon a bed, moaning at 
 intervals, and breathing heavily. He turned his eyes slowly 
 upon me, and then closed them again, wearily. 
 
 " I do not wish anything of the kind," he feebly said, in 
 reply to some observation on the part of the other. " You are 
 the only friend that I possess, and from you alone will I re- 
 ceive it. I am ready; do not lose time." Upon this the first 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 129 
 
 speaker came forward, and placed a morsel of bread to the lips 
 of the dying youth, who ate it eagerly. A cup containing 
 some wine was next presented to him, and he drank a little 
 of it ; then muttered what seemed to be a prayer, and bade me 
 turn the pillow, that the cool side of it might touch his fevered 
 cheek. 
 
 " I feel better now," he said, " and am willing to die as soon 
 as it shall please God to release me. You know all. I have 
 nothing to add. Let me be buried, if possible, where things 
 are quiet, and the turf is green." In a few minutes the 
 struggle for breath and utterance ceased ; he pressed both our 
 hands; there was a momentary frown upon his brow; it was 
 succeeded by a smile, and his spirit had passed away. 
 
 ******* 
 
 I was so fortunate as to meet with an old acquaintance in 
 Montreal, and together we sallied out to view the city, which 
 he told me was one of the handsomest in Canada. The 
 houses, constructed of a bluish-grey stone, presented a clean 
 and elegant appearance, and the spacious shops, or stores, in 
 point of neatness and respectability, would bear comparison, 
 with those of any of our finest provincial towns at home. We 
 stopped to gaze at the celebrated French Cathedral. It is an 
 imposing pile, certainly; but the two lofty towers seemed to 
 me to have outgrown their strength, and had a painful hobble- 
 dehoy look, that by no means accorded with my architectural 
 taste. I am not, however, much of a connoisseur in such 
 matters, and may very probably only be exposing my igno- 
 rance in saying thus much. My Quebec friend here gave 
 my arm a pull, and whispered, that he would introduce me to 
 a Yankee gentleman of some repute down south. 
 
 " Make you acquainted with Major Tommycod, sir Major 
 Tommycod, my friend Mr Log hem!" 
 
 " Glad to know you, sir," said the major, pressing his chin 
 on his chest for a second or two, lowering his eyes, and putting 
 out a large moist hand; "hope you are well, sir." The 
 major was a short, thin, shrewd -featured man, with long 
 
 straight black hair, no whiskers, a goatee, and so large a 
 
 i 
 
1 30 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 development of white turn-over collar, that I could not help 
 thinking he had performed his toilet somewhat hastily, and 
 got his shirt the wrong way upwards by mistake. 
 
 " And you air from the Old Country, sir." 
 
 " Yes, major." 
 
 "In what part of it were you raised, sir?" People never 
 inquire where you .were born ; raised is the more appropriate 
 word as though you were a head of brocoli, or a cucumber, 
 or a pumpkin. 
 
 " And how long do you intend toe remain in Canada, sir ?" 
 
 " Twelve months, perhaps." 
 
 "Yes, sir?" 
 
 " Yes, and a few in the States." 
 
 "I shall be glad to see you in Boston, sir; I am from that 
 city, sir. You have heard of the 'Boston Gallinipper/ I pre- 
 sume, sir. I am the editor of that paper, sir." 
 
 " Ah, indeed, I am delighted to meet you, major, and hope 
 to have that pleasure again, by and by. Thank you, I seldom 
 chew." Major Tommycod produced his tobacco-box, and 
 after offering it me, screwed off a handful of the weed, deposited 
 it in his cheek, waved his stick in the air, wished us good 
 morning, and walked away. 
 
 The thermometer stood at 95 in the shade. The blazing 
 beams of the fierce mid-day sun poured down upon the glit- 
 tering roofs of the tin-topped houses, and, finding no footing 
 there, slipped off in a burning shower upon the throbbing 
 temples and aching heads of weary pedestrians below. The 
 new white and green paint upon the spruce doors and smart 
 window-blinds, bubbled and swelled up into unsightly blisters ; 
 and the heat from the smooth flagstones struck through to 
 one's feet as though the pavement were an oven bottom, and 
 people walked on it to be baked. Ladies listlessly lowering 
 their pink parasols, and gazing languidly around them, saun- 
 tered into cool confectioners' shops for ice-creams; and gentle- 
 men, loosening their limp cravats, and throwing open their 
 capacious waistcoats, talked of the luxury of cold plunges, and 
 called londly for sherry-cobblers and mint-julep. A mad dog, 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 131 
 
 followed by a crowd of men with bludgeons, dashed suddenly 
 round a sharp corner, and up the street, merely pausing a mo- 
 ment in his flight to test the flavour of a fat Jesuit's leg; and 
 a man carrying a heavy load hard by fell flat upon his face, 
 sun-struck and senseless. 
 
 Very proper and refreshing. It happened to be the review- 
 day of the Montreal Fire Brigade. This select body, which 
 has its counterpart in every Canadian town and city, is com- 
 posed entirely of gentlemen, and the service is considered both 
 distinguished and respectable. They take a pride in the thing 
 too; and, with their brazen helmets, scarlet uniforms, and gleam- 
 ing axes, exhibit a very formidable front, while their well- 
 finished and highly-polished engines glitter like the works of a 
 watch. There were two companies present (rivals, of course), 
 and which, for the sake of distinction, we will term the Fizzers 
 and the Spulgers. The body of Christchurch was chosen as 
 the scene of action, and against this the pipes of the respective 
 engines were directed. The Fizzers threw their water to a 
 height of thirty feet. The Spulgers threw it forty. The Fizzers 
 threw it fifty. The Spulgers threw it sixty. The Fizzers 
 threw it seventy. The Spulgers made a prodigious effort, and 
 splashed the clock; upon which the gentleman who had charge 
 of that piece of machinery put his head over the balcony, and 
 expostulated, but having his person suddenly deluged with the 
 reviving fluid, retired precipitately. On this the Fizzers, not 
 to be outdone, sprinkled the lower portion of the spire, when 
 an angry altercation ensued between the rival corps, and the 
 hose of the Spulgers (probably by accident) was pointed at the 
 face of the officer commanding the opposition brigade, and some 
 confusion was the result. It was altogether a very lively and 
 cheering sight the more so as the day was warm and the 
 " institution" is one which cannot be too highly applauded, or 
 extensively patronised. 
 
 As I returned to my room in the hotel, one of the boarders, 
 with whom I had contracted an intimacy (the same who had 
 administered the bread and wine to the dying youth), accosted 
 me and said, " You will most probably have to undergo the 
 
132 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 ceremony of initiation to-night; do not lock your room door 
 as locks and bolts are of little avail here and be prepared to 
 witness some odd things." I thanked my well-meaning friend 
 for the timely hint, and promised to turn it to account. He 
 smiled, nodded, offered me a cigar, took one himself, lighted it, 
 and went away. 
 
 At midnight, I heard the sounds of smothered laughter, and 
 the tread of many feet in the gallery that led past my room ; 
 and anon there came a stealthy tap at the door. I did not re- 
 spond, but closed my eyes, and feigned sleep. A moment after- 
 wards, a yell as of a large war-party of savages rang in my 
 ears, and the chamber was filled with armed men, some in 
 masks, and others almost naked, with their faces and bodies 
 smutted, chalked, ochred, or rouged, as the case might be. The 
 leader of the band, a gentleman with a neat pair of horns, and 
 a select tail, which stuck out at a right angle from his person, 
 held a drawn sword in his hand, and, advancing, stood over me 
 with its point placed to my throat. A second yell then rent 
 the air, and a sprightly cabalistic dance was indulged in by the 
 whole of the company, during which tomahawks, war-clubs, 
 broomsticks, and bowie-knives, were flourished in my face; 
 pistols and blunderbusses were snapped at my head; and 
 my scalp (figuratively speaking) was wrenched reeking from 
 my skull. My inauguration was now considered complete, and 
 a shriller whoop than any I had yet heard closed the ceremony. 
 My hand having been shaken by each of the grim fraternity, 
 they all then sat down, three or four upon the wash-hand stand, 
 five or six upon a shelf, a few upon my bed, and the remainder 
 on the floor, to rest themselves after their exertions. 
 
 " You appear to be somewhat fatigued and flushed, sir," said 
 the gentleman with the horns, as he arose and snuffed the soli- 
 tary candle with one grand sweep of his heavy sabre ; " you 
 must take some refreshment. What may I have the pleasure 
 of ordering for you? This establishment is justly cele- 
 brated for its sherry-cobblers, gin-sling, mint-julep, cock- 
 tail, and timber-doodle ; which of these delicacies would you 
 prefer?" 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 133 
 
 " The last-named liqueur must be a very inviting one," I 
 said; "but I am afraid the lateness of the hour will per- 
 haps " 
 
 " Nothing of the kind, I assure you ; your call will meet with 
 the promptest attention. Have I your permission to ring the 
 bell?" 
 
 I bowed assent, and a waiter presently appeared. " A score 
 of timber-doodles, if you please," said I. 
 
 " Pardon me for offering an interruption at so auspicious a 
 moment, sir," cried the gentleman with the horns and tail ; " but 
 take my advice try the sherry-cobblers, and should they not 
 give satisfaction, we can afterwards enjoy the distinction of 
 pledging you in timber-doodle." 
 
 The timber- doodles having been introduced, masks were 
 speedily removed, war-clubs, tomahawks, bowie-knives, and 
 bludgeons were thrown aside, glasses were circulated, and eyes 
 began to twinkle with rapture. At this interesting stage of 
 the entertainment, the shelf that had supported the six boarders 
 fell with a crash, but the accident- did not appear to have been 
 attended with any serious consequences, as the six boarders 
 neither cried out for assistance, nor received it, but remained 
 very contentedly in the various attitudes the accident happened 
 to have placed them. For my especial benefit, too, the company 
 now all joined in that species of vocal extravaganza commonly 
 known as a Dutch medley, but which, lest you should have 
 never been present at a musical entertainment of this nature, 
 it will perhaps be well for me to describe. Nothing could 
 have been more simple. Each boarder in turn sang a verse of 
 some song that was familiar to him, and that done, the whole 
 party roared the same over again in chorus a performance 
 which, as every singer kept to his own words and air, and made 
 as much noise as he possibly could, did not fail, be sure, of pro- 
 ducing a very fine and harmonious effect. 
 
 My health having subsequently been drunk with three times 
 three, I was called upon to respond, but would fain have ex- 
 cused myself. My friend with the horns and tail, however, 
 whispered me that I had better comply, as a refusal would 
 
134 WHITTLINGS FKOM THE WEST. 
 
 throw a great gloom over the party, and occasion general dis- 
 appointment. 
 
 " Why, what would you have me say ?" asked I. 
 
 " 0, we are not very nice about the sentiment; just say that 
 you are quite unaccustomed to that sort of thing (to public 
 speaking, I mean), and feel sorry that you cannot do justice to 
 your feelings. You can just add, too, that this is the proudest 
 moment of your existence, that you are delighted to see us, and 
 hope to have that pleasure again shortly shall we say to-mor- 
 row night, or the one after? with, in fact, any other complimen- 
 tary remarks you like to thrown in. Silence there si-lence !" 
 
 Just at this moment we were interrupted (happily for myself) 
 by a loud authoritative rapping upon the wall, and the voice of 
 
 Madame S was heard, requesting that every boarder who 
 
 deemed himself a gentleman would immediately repair to his own 
 room, and forbear further riot. After lingering a few seconds, 
 therefore, to drain their glasses, and indulge in a prolonged part- 
 ing whoop, my select party of visiters one by one got upon their 
 legs, and stealthily evacuated the premises. Shortly afterwards, 
 my door was re-opened, and a good-looking young fellow, in 
 nothing but a pair of limp small-clothes and pumps, entered, 
 and presented me with a card. 
 
 "What is this?" I asked. 
 
 " I am deputed to inform Monsieur Log that there will be a 
 bull-dance below- stairs to-morrow evening, precisely at the 
 hour of eight, and the favour of his company is confidently an- 
 ticipated. This ticket will admit you. Good night!" 
 
 "A bull-dance!" said I, when I was once more alone; "I 
 wonder what they mean by a bull-dance ; " and, closing my eyes, 
 I was permitted to pass the remainder of the night in quiet. 
 
 HEAP THE TWENTY-SECOND. 
 
 It was Sunday morning; I had put on my hat and gloves, 
 and was going to church. As I left the room, and walked along 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 135 
 
 the gallery to the staircase, the door of No. 27 opened, and Mr 
 Date, the humane gentleman of whom I have more than once 
 spoken, issued from it. He told me, with much honest anger 
 and indignation, that the two quarter-dollar pieces he had 
 placed the day before on the eyes of his dead friend were gone. 
 They had been stolen by some of jjie boarders ! 
 
 I was about to descend the stairs, when another door opened 
 (No. 25), and Mr Benjamin Chaffers peeped from it. He had 
 divested himself of his horns and tail, and looked rather wo- 
 begone. He asked me to go and sit a few minutes with. him. 
 I pleaded an engagement, but he would take no refusal, and led 
 me along by the button." 
 
 " Mr Jackow, a distant relation of mine," he said, waving his 
 hand in the direction of a sleek elderly gentleman, who occu- 
 pied the lid of a box in a corner. " Mr Jackow, this is Mr 
 Log." 
 
 "Indeed!" said the elderly gentleman; "another of your 
 dissolute companions, I suppose. It is like your impudence, 
 sir, to be introducing me to everybody." 
 
 " I fear I am intruding," said I, about to withdraw. 
 
 " I fear you are, sir," replied Mr Jackow, eyeing me with 
 much disfavour. 
 
 "Hush no; sit down," said Ben, pushing me back into a 
 chair. " I have no secrets. You must know, sir, that my father 
 is a man of considerable property, and Mr Jackow is his inti- 
 mate friend and adviser, who, being a worthy disinterested 
 creature, and having no eye to a little legacy which " 
 
 " Upon my word, I ," commenced Mr Jackow, half rising 
 
 from the box. 
 
 " Don't let us quarrel about a word, sir. The fact is, Mr 
 Log, I have been rather wild. My mother who was it said 
 we could never have but one mother ? died when I was a mere 
 boy; and my father, having subsequently married a young lady, 
 juvenile enough to be his granddaughter, turned me loose upon 
 the world, and bade me shift for myself. I have shifted for 
 myself, but why did he forbid me his house ? why " 
 
 " Your disgraceful conduct, sir, left him no alternative," ob- 
 
136 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 served Mr Jackow; " your last piece of folly would have roused 
 a saint." 
 
 " Relate it, will you, for my memory is none of the best. Do 
 you allude to the affair at the horse-guards?" 
 
 "No, sir, I do not: I allude to your impious behaviour with 
 reference to a public place of worship; I allude to your having 
 driven four donkeys from a common into a Roman Catholic 
 chapel during the performance of high mass." 
 
 I coughed. 
 
 " You say nothing of the white horse and the pig," remarked 
 Mr Benjamin Chaffers. 
 
 " I perceive that you have no shame, sir," said Mr Jackow, 
 virtuously; "and though I shall not cease to offer up my 
 prayers in your behalf, I do not deem it my duty to risk the 
 further contamination of your society. I have made inquiries 
 respecting your conduct since you left England, and shall not 
 fail to render a faithful statement of particulars to your friends. 
 I have discharged myself of a heavy responsibility, and now 
 wash my hands of you altogether. Here are a few tracts, which, 
 if carefully read and digested, may perhaps be instrumental in 
 awakening you to a sense of your wickedness." 
 
 " Give them to me ! There, sir I" cried the enraged Ben- 
 jamin, seizing the papers, tearing them to tatters, and stamping 
 upon the fragments. "My father is an old man, and I will 
 utter no reproaches. Perhaps I have made myself what I am, 
 but at all events a kind word from him would not have been 
 lost upon me. Let that be ; and as for you, who have wormed 
 yourself into his confidence, accommodated yourself to his 
 whims, and fattened upon his mutton leave the room, or I will 
 pour a jug of water over you." 
 
 ******* 
 
 Among my few letters of introduction, was one addressed to 
 a literary gentleman of some eminence in Montreal. I had en- 
 closed it with my card to this distinguished personage, and had, 
 in return, received an invitation to dine with him upon the 
 present Sunday. He sent word that I was to expect no for- 
 mality, and a plain dinner, &c. &c. I was glad of that (as I am 
 
WHJTTLIffGS FROM THE WEST. 137 
 
 not much of an epicure), and did not fail to wait upon Mr 
 Barclay (as I will call him) at the appointed hour. The day 
 was a hot onej the windows and doors were open, and so were 
 the collar and wristbands of Mr Barclay's shirt; he, moreover, 
 had his slippers on, and his coat and cravat off, and he looked 
 like a man who had resolved to be cool and comfortable. He 
 was reclining in a rocking chair when I entered. He partly 
 rose, however, extended his hand, remarked that the weather 
 was warm, and invited me to divest myself of as much of my 
 clothing as I pleased. I expressed my thanks; and, throwing 
 himself back again in his chair, and closing his eyes, he called 
 out at the very top of his voice. I thought he was taken ill, 
 but that was a mistake; he was merely shouting for "Peg," 
 his waiting-maid a scraggy old lady in a chintz dress, which 
 did not more than cover the decayed tops of her black stock- 
 ings. 
 
 " Bring the broth, Peg," cried Mr Barclay ; and the broth 
 was brought. 
 
 We sipped in silence. 
 
 " Take away the broth, Peg;" and away went the tureen. 
 " Have you anything else?" shrieked Mr Barclay, fanning him- 
 self with his handkerchief, and nursing one of his legs. 
 
 " Yes," roared Peg in his ear. 
 
 "What is it? pork?" 
 
 " No," was the rejoinder. 
 
 "Ham?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 " Chops," yelled Peg, resting one hand on her master's 
 shoulder, and dabbing a dish upon the table. 
 
 The chops there were two, of a very attenuated and con- 
 sumptive appearance, something like a pair of dried kid gloves, 
 with gravy speedily disappeared. 
 
 " Have you anything more?" 
 
 Peg shook her head, and began to clear away the platters. 
 
 "No pastry, eh?" 
 
 Peg gave her head another jerk, rattled the knives and forks 
 
138 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 together, tucked the tablecloth under her arm, and marched 
 away with the stride of a captain of dragoons. 
 
 " You smoke, I suppose," said Mr Barclay, producing a 
 cigar-case full of choice Havannahs. 
 
 Peg then put a couple of tall bottles and some glasses upon 
 the table, and in a few minutes the literary gentleman was fast 
 asleep, but smoking placidly still, and now and then undoing a 
 button of his waistcoat, and sighing deeply. Shortly after- 
 wards he awoke, bade me not spare the wine, removed the ash 
 from his cigar, arose, yawned, and went up-stairs. I heard him 
 fling his weight upon a bed; I heard that piece of furniture 
 creak at intervals; and I heard the literary gentleman snore. 
 I put the corks in the bottles, sprang to my feet, stared at the 
 pictures, turned over some books, opened a little work entitled 
 "Etiquette for Gentlemen," and left it open. I next looked 
 from the window into the little garden. Beautiful flowers ! A 
 humming-bird had paused upon his flight, and hidden himself 
 in one of the blossoms; and two exquisitely tinted butterflies 
 were reposing, with wings languidly outspread, upon the plea- 
 sant grass beneath. Just then I heard the bed above-stairs 
 creak frightfully. The literary gentleman was coming down. 
 No, he was turning himself. Peg re- appeared. I inquired 
 how long her master's after-dinner naps usually lasted. Peg 
 thought I alluded to the heat of the weather, and made a ludi- 
 crous gesture, expressive of extreme exhaustion. I presented 
 her with a trifle for the purchase of a new pair of black silk 
 stockings, took up my hat and gloves, and left the house. 
 
 As I returned to my room, after half an hour's saunter in 
 the neighbourhood of the beautiful Mount Royal, I passed the 
 chamber in which the dead man lay. The door was not locked, 
 and I had the curiosity to enter. I raised the sheet that con- 
 cealed the features of the corpse, and looked upon what had 
 yesterday been a living creature like myself. How strange, 
 how sad, how solemn, the spectacle that now met my gaze ! 
 The spirit flown, the house empty, the fire quenched, and the 
 embers alone remaining nothing but the cold glassy glare of 
 death, and its accompanying horrors. Who was this youth ? 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 139 
 
 Whence came he ? Was he a stranger in the land ? Perhaps 
 lie had wandered from some distant shore, only to die here, far 
 from kindred, and friends, and home. Perchance he was a 
 father's pride, a mother's hope, a sister's consolation, and their 
 prayers were at this moment being offered up for his safe return. 
 And he lying there ! One thing was certain his mortal career 
 was closed, and his doom irrevocably fixed. What was that 
 doom ? God knew. He had been his own biographer, and the 
 history of his life stood recorded upon the everlasting tablets. 
 
 HEAP THE TWENTY-THIRD. 
 
 " Good morning, Mr Log," said a tall spare insinuating- 
 looking gentleman, putting his head into my room, and nod- 
 ding in a friendly way; "I hope you are quite well to-day, 
 sir?" This was Mr Alfred Hump, of No. 28. 
 
 " Quite well, I thank you," was my answer. Mr Hump 
 smiled, closed the door, and took a seat. 
 
 " They have put off the bull- dance for a night or two," said 
 he. 
 
 "Ah, indeed!" 
 
 " Poor Ben Chaffers is labouring under a violent fit of the 
 blues; and, as he generally officiates as master of the cere- 
 monies on such occasions, we have been compelled to postpone 
 the affair." 
 
 Mr Hump here walked to the wash-hand stand, and refreshed 
 himself at the water-jug. Having quenched his thirst, he drew 
 on a dilapidated glove, shook my hand, and wished me good- 
 day. The next moment he turned back and said, " By the 
 by, can you oblige me with the loan of a five-dollar note, for a 
 day or two?" 
 
 I was in the act of producing my purse, when a dry comical 
 twinkle, emanating from the corner of Mr Hump's eye, caused 
 me to forbear, and reply that I unfortunately could not. 
 
 " Never mind, my dear fellow never mind," said Mr Hump ; 
 " perhaps you have some loose silver about you." (No, I hud 
 
140 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 not.) "Ha, ha! it was of no consequence, none whatever;" 
 and the tall boarder, drawing on his other glove, disappeared. 
 I went for a walk. 
 
 Notre Dame Street was full of people. There was a great 
 deal of talking, and shouting, and laughter, and peeping round 
 corners; and some of the store-keepers were putting up their 
 shutters. What could be the matter? I went into a shop and 
 inquired. 
 
 " 0, sir," was the reply, " one of the drollest scenes you ever 
 witnessed. There are some drunken sailors in a coach, and 
 they have been driving through the streets at full gallop, with 
 colours flying, hats waving, and horses panting and smoking in 
 such a way as was never seen the like of in this city before. 
 They have knocked down two or three lamp-posts, and smashed 
 hald a dozen windows; but they hark! they are coming back 
 up the Rue St Joseph, I expect." 
 
 I ran to the door, and looked in the direction of the street 
 named. There were two coaches in the distance; swaying 
 fearfully from side to side, and the horses were approaching 
 at a canter. The thought occurred to me, that perhaps these 
 jovial tars were a portion of the old Golightly's crew, for that 
 famous craft lay in the river with her anchor apeak, and I had 
 heard that she was to sail on the morrow. A moment after- 
 wards, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and, facing about, saw 
 my friend Mr O'Toole. We had scarcely greeted each other, 
 ere the brace of coaches bore down upon us, scattering the 
 mob, bumping against house-corners, unshipping awning-poles, 
 and frightening some of the more nervous of the foot-passengers 
 out of their very wits. I was right. Mr Slops the cook was 
 mounted on the forecastle of the foremost coach, and the hand- 
 some sailor who had spun the yarn about the sea monster 
 brought up the rear. I hailed the former, and caught the eye 
 of the young tar with the ringlets, who was officiating as a 
 look-out in the foretop. 
 
 "Sail ho, on the larboard beam!" sang he; "back your 
 maintopsail, Bill here's Mr Log. What cheer, sir, what 
 cheer?" 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 141 
 
 "What is all this, my lads?" said I; "I fear you will be 
 getting into mischief." 
 
 ** Love your heart, no, sir," responded Mr Slops, pulling up 
 with frightful suddenness (he had one rein in either fist) ; 
 " we are only just enjoying ourselves a bit, your honour." 
 
 "Ay, but you should keep the middle of the road; you have 
 no right upon the pavements." 
 
 " It's all along of Harry Sullivan, sir," returned Mr Slops, 
 touching his forelock, and dropping his whip in the process. 
 " Let's have a fresh hand at the wheel there." 
 
 "Avast a bit, shipmate," retorted the indignant Harry Sul- 
 livan. " How's a fellow to steer a craft that won't answer her 
 helm? She yaws about like a bull in a fair." 
 
 " Who have you got inside here?" said I, looking in at the 
 coach window. 
 
 The conveyance was crammed to suffocation ; its interior 
 was one mass of human heads and faces, a few of which I re- 
 cognised. I heard somebody pronounce my name. 
 
 "Who is that?" I asked. 
 
 "Me, sir," 
 
 "Who's me?" 
 
 " Mr Chin, sir," replied the same voice. 
 
 I sought for the steward's sable physiognomy, but in vain. 
 I suppose he was the first article that had been shipped, and 
 had consequently been stowed away in the remotest depths of 
 the hold. 
 
 " Now, pray be careful, my good fellows," was my parting 
 admonition to the jolly crew of the Golightly, as the cook issued 
 the orders to make sail. 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir, careful it is," responded Mr Slops, giving one 
 of the horses a desperate slash over the posteriors, and coiling 
 the slack of the reins hastily around his wrist; whereupon the 
 two coaches instantly got under way again, tacked once or 
 twice with much abruptness, capsized a man with an armful 
 of Dutch clocks, overturned an orange stall, and finally disap- 
 peared round a corner the horses prancing, the tars cheering, 
 the mob shouting, and half the population of the city waving 
 
] 42 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 handkerchiefs from the windows, and purpling their faces with 
 laughter, as the fleet bore out of sight. 
 
 ******* 
 
 The good people of Montreal (and, indeed, those of most 
 Canadian towns) have a manifest predilection for poplar-trees. 
 There are poplars round the Champ de Mars, and very bloom- 
 ing and agreeable they are to the eye; there are poplars round 
 the Government house; there are poplars round the Govern- 
 ment garden ; there are poplars round the Jesuit College ; and 
 there are poplars around almost every other public building and 
 promenade in the city. But the most captivating of all the 
 sweet spots in which Hochelaga abounds, is the neighbourhood 
 of Mount Royal, which is luxuriantly wooded, and presents a 
 succession of the loveliest rural pictures imaginable. The 
 beauty of the charming villas, too, that peep up here and 
 there among the foliage in this locality, can (as Mr G. 
 P. R. James would say) "better be conceived than described." 
 To see the fatherly gentlemen, in their straw sombreros and 
 nankeen indescribables, sitting beneath the honeysuckle and 
 jasmine- wreathed porticoes; to watch the languid ladies with 
 their books, or their netting, or their needlework, reclining in 
 the grateful shelter of the cool overhanging boughs; to note 
 the healthy, laughing, rosy-lipped, auburn-curled, dapple-legged 
 little children, disporting themselves upon the inviting grass- 
 plots; to contemplate the various attractions of so moving and 
 joyous a picture, I say, is quite enough to effect the temporary 
 ruin of any lonely friendless gentleman wandering near, and 
 cause him to linger lovingly about, applying his eye to chinks 
 in gateways, and kindly knots in wooden palisadings, until he 
 presently becomes notorious, and is eventually obliged to de- 
 camp. 
 
 Such was precisely the state of my own feelings, and such 
 had been my propensities, when, one summer evening a little 
 after sunset, I found myself stationary at the picturesque gate 
 of a tastefully -arranged garden, listening intently to the touch- 
 ing tones of a very fine pianoforte, as they stole through the 
 scented foliage, and were borne gently by upon the twilight 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 143 
 
 air. It was the first music I had heard since I had left Quebec, 
 and I could not help pausing for awhile to regale my ears 
 with the melody. What was my astonishment and confusion, 
 as I did so, to see the garden-gate fly open, and an unexpected 
 apparition, in the shape of a corpulent gentleman, with a face 
 the colour of a peony, dash suddenly out, and attempt to seize 
 me by the collar. The act was so hasty and unanticipated, and 
 the expression of the gentleman's features so truly fierce and 
 ludicrous, that I could scarcely repress my mirth; more par- 
 ticularly when he observed, in a tone of the most cutting seve- 
 rity, and with several flowers of oratory it will be well to omit 
 " You were eavesdropping, sir; you know it. I am Colonel 
 Banjo." 
 
 Whether Colonel Banjo expected the latter important an- 
 nouncement to fell me to the earth or not, I do not know; 
 but, as it was incumbent on me to do or say something, I at 
 once acknowledged the justice of the imputation. 
 
 " And perhaps you will permit me to inquire what brings 
 you here, sir?" said the colonel, shaking a lump of soil from 
 the prongs of the small garden-fork he held; "I should not 
 be at all surprised if you came after my daughter." 
 
 There was something so droll and barefaced in the suppo- 
 sition, that I was compelled to laugh, and replied, " It is ex- 
 tremely probable, really, seeing that I have just arrived from 
 England; have scarcely been in Montreal a day; and was not 
 even aware that there was such an individual as Colonel Banjo 
 in existence much less that he was blessed with a family. 
 Good evening to you." 
 
 -"Stay, sir," peremptorily shouted the colonel; "what was 
 your object then ? Come." 
 
 " I stopped to listen to the music, but, as that unfortunately 
 happens to be of a strictly private nature, allow me once more 
 to apologise for the liberty I have taken, and wish you good- 
 night." 
 
 " Stay, sir! Do you hear me? Come in." 
 
 "Nay, you must excuse me; I can't." 
 
 " You had better say you won't, sir." 
 
144 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST, 
 
 " Well, it would have saved me some trouble, certainly." 
 
 " I am sorry for it; here's my card; what's your address? 
 I was hasty; you shall hear from me;" and at this junc- 
 ture I walked away, and the colonel in at his garden-gate, 
 where he was immediately taken seriously to task, and severe- 
 ly remonstrated with, by an invisible third party, who had evi- 
 dently been an eye as well as an ear witness to the whole 
 transaction. 
 
 The adventure did not terminate here, but I think it better 
 to relate the sequel by and by, and, in the interim, attempt to 
 lessen the tedium of narrative by animadverting slightly upon 
 the subject of Canadian customs and peculiarities, some of 
 which are both novel and amusing. 
 
 There is a point and patness pervading the greater portion 
 of the Canadian phraseology, which I could not help admiring. 
 Many of their expressions strike oddly upon a stranger's ear 
 at first, but it soon becomes familiarised to their quaintness, 
 and after a time he finds himself unconsciously adopting them. 
 For instance, a person meeting another in the street, seldom 
 says " How do you do?" but "How do you git along?" which 
 is decidedly the more sensible question of the two. Secondly, 
 they will not talk of a house, or a bank, or a church, or other 
 edifice being built, or in course of erection ; they ask if you 
 see that fine building going up 1 a query which causes a newly- 
 imported Englishman to stare at once into the sky, in the ex- 
 pectation of witnessing some strange phenomenon in that quar- 
 ter. Thirdly, if you observe an acquaintance to look pale, and 
 clasp his skull convulsively, and you ask if his head aches, he 
 will not say, " Yes," or " Slightly/' or " A little," but probably 
 " Some," or " A few." And fourthly, I was much amused 
 with the novel application of the word " Sir." In England we 
 use it as a mark of respect ; in America you do so to denote 
 your own sharpness. For example, you walk into a store, 
 and, picking up some article, inquire the price of it. The 
 shopman, or clerk (we beg the gentleman's pardon) says, 
 " Five dollars." You ask if that is not rather dear. " No, 
 sir," responds the clerk, indifferently. You say, " I will give 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 145 
 
 you three for it." He smartly replies, " No, sir " (which im- 
 plies that he is not to be bit), and throws the article aside. 
 And again, when extreme emphasis is required, the word may 
 be still differently rendered, and then carries everything before 
 it; as in the following instance: A genteel and amiable back- 
 wood couple, who have gone through the usual routine of 
 courtship which, by the by, is termed "sparking" stalk to 
 the altar to be " fixed," i. e., married; the bride arriving there 
 a few moments in advance, and her intended partner saunter- 
 ing leisurely up afterwards, with the air of a man who thinks 
 the ceremony a somewhat dispensable one, and can afford to 
 wait. Preliminaries arranged, the clerical gentleman officiat- 
 ing asks, " Wilt thou have this woman to," &c. The bride- 
 groom, whittling coolly at his walking-stick, or perhaps the 
 chancel-rails, replies, " Wai, I guess I ain't agoin' to do nothink 
 alse." The clergyman then turns to the lady, and demands 
 whether she will have that man to be her wedded husband? 
 to which the lady, in a loud clear voice, and with a startling 
 energy, cries, "Yes, sir-ree!" 
 
 Again, and lastly, there is extanf in Canada a description of 
 pleasantry, which, trifle though it may seem, since I have 
 never witnessed anything similar elsewhere, I am not inclined 
 to pass over without comment. It is scarcely to be designated 
 as a game, nor can it legitimately be styled an amusement at 
 least so I have been told by several parties in whose judgment 
 I am disposed to place great confidence. It is a species of by- 
 play, capable of adaptation to a company consisting of any 
 number of persons, and mostly in vogue at the dinner-table, 
 after the cloth has been drawn, and the dessert introduced. 
 There is no name for it, but the sport is conducted something 
 in this way: A lady, on the discovery of a double kernel 
 among the almonds upon her plate, presents half of it to the 
 nearest gentleman, or any gentleman, indeed, whom she chooses 
 to honour with her attention. Now, the conditions upon which 
 this portion of the nut is bestowed are these. A day must 
 first be suffered to elapse, and then, if the lady can contrive to 
 drop unexpectedly upon the gentleman, and cry (before he 
 
146 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 himself can get the word out, or the penalty would be reversed), 
 "Philippine!" or "Philippine!" I do not recollect which 
 he becomes her debtor forthwith for either a bracelet, or a 
 watch, or a chain, or a pencil-case, or a dress, or some other 
 trinket or article of apparel. And it singularly enough hap- 
 pens that the lady is always the successful party on these oc- 
 casions. No matter how sharp and ingenious the gentleman 
 may be, he is sure to get outwitted. He may, if open to dis- 
 covery in a public thoroughfare, rush into a shop if he pleases; 
 but he will not escape so; the lady has a purchase to make, 
 and, ere his lips can frame a syllable of the magic word, "Phi- 
 lippino " is her cry. He may, if in danger of detection while 
 sitting quietly in a room among his friends, secret himself be- 
 hind the door, if he feel so inclined; but that is the most like- 
 ly place of all others for two cheerfully-disposed young people 
 to meet, and the precaution avails him nothing. He may, 
 under similar circumstances, dive under a table, or plunge 
 into a cupboard, if one be at hand, and he approve of the 
 measure; but there is sure to be some blue-eyed, tight-bod- 
 diced, laughing cousin, or other acquaintance, among the com- 
 pany, who delights in betraying him ; and, in fact, do what he 
 will, and get where he will, it is his fit and proper destiny to 
 be caught, and caught he is ; and should he chance to have two 
 or three responsibilities of a like agreeable nature falling due 
 on the same evening, he naturally grows a little excited with 
 the recreation, and need have a tolerably well-stored purse, 
 too, to keep pace with it. 
 
 HEAP THE TWENTY-FOURTH. 
 
 In one of the preceding paragraphs, I have given the 
 reader to understand that I had not been in the way of hear- 
 ing much music since ray departure from the Lower Province. 
 In making such a statement I deviated in some measure from 
 the truth. Nearly all the gentlemen in the Hotel du C 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 147 
 
 were musically disposed; and, as I had the fortune to be lo- 
 cated in that wing of the building which contained the largest 
 body of the boarders, I enjoyed the full benefit of their 
 performances. No. 15 played a fiddle; No. 16 a flute; 
 17 an accordian; 18 a violoncello; 19 a guitar; 20 a corno- 
 pean; 21 a barrel-organ; 22 a tambarine; 23 a drum; 24 a 
 hautboy; 25 a Jew's-harp; 26 whistled; 28 sang; and 29 was 
 an actor, who occupied a room just over my head, and was 
 continually practising falls upon the floor, and ventriloquial 
 soliloquies a la Messrs Kean and Macready. And, as all these 
 gentlemen usually contrived to be taken with the fit at the 
 same moment, and the melodies they respectively produced 
 blended into one grand and general diapason, the effect, upon 
 the whole, was of course sublime, and a listener became pro- 
 portionately enchanted with it. I was sitting one day with a 
 book in my hand, undergoing a melodious infliction of the na- 
 ture hinted, when my door opened, and No. 21 put in his 
 head. It was Mr Dudge. 
 
 " There has somebody been looking for you," said he. "I 
 told them you would be in shortly. Have you got the 
 note?" 
 
 " Note ? No, I have seen no note." 
 
 " Ah ! then he has carried it away with him," replied Mr 
 Dudge. " I told the lad that I was a particular friend of yours, 
 and would take charge of it." 
 
 " A lad, did you say ? How was he dressed ?" 
 
 "In a sky-blue livery, with round silver buttons; he looked 
 like a gentleman's tiger, and had got the impudence of Beel- 
 zebub himself." 
 
 " I am much obliged to you for your politeness," said I, en- 
 deavouring, though in vain, to recollect where I had seen a 
 youth answering to the description drawn by Mr Dudge. 
 
 "Oh, say nothing about that," said he; "if there is any- 
 thing I can ever do to serve you, don't fail to make use of me." 
 
 " By the by, are not you the proprietor of that dismal 
 barrel-organ which I hear occasionally ? " 
 
 "Yes; a charming instrument, isn't it?" 
 
148 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 "Why, tastes are apt to differ, you know; I wish you 
 wouldn't play it quite so often." 
 
 "Ah, you would prohibit me that melancholy gratifica- 
 tion, sir, would you? No; that instrument was presented to 
 me by a very dear and departed friend, who, dying, requested 
 me to grind it often, and think of him. Good-day !" 
 
 The door closed, and No. 21 began to grind away at the 
 barrel-organ again with greater vigour than ever; the fiddle 
 caught the infection ; the gentleman with the red eyes followed 
 suit upon the flageolet; No. 18 struck in with the violoncello; 
 and the flute, accordian, guitar, hautboy, Jew's-harp, and tam- 
 barine, becoming similarly inoculated, dashed off instantly to 
 join them with a hum, and a buzz, and a roar, and a screech, 
 that set my teeth horribly on edge, and worked me up into a 
 state of frenzy bordering closely upon madness. 
 
 I was contemplating the propriety of exchanging my apart- 
 ments in the Hotel du C , for others in some quiet boarding- 
 house in the neighbourhood of the mountain, when my medi- 
 tations were broken in upon by the brisk application of a set 
 of knuckles to the door. The tiger with the sky-blue livery 
 and the round silver buttons presented himself, and handed 
 me a note. It was a pleasantly- couched invitation to dine with 
 Colonel Banjo next day. 
 
 "How did your master become acquainted with my ad- 
 dress?" I inquired of the boy in blue, whose name I subse- 
 quently discovered to be Luke Squiff. 
 
 " He set me to follow you home the other night, and pro- 
 mised me a dollar if I got to know your name, and where you 
 was staying. Please to come to dinner, or I shan't get my 
 dollar." 
 
 I penned a hasty reply to Colonel Banjo's polite communi- 
 cation, and committed it to Colonel Banjo's confidential tiger, 
 who deposited it in a side pocket, and said, "Please to let me 
 take a pull at the water-jug, for the weather's so hot, and I'm 
 so thirsty, and these clothes are so tight, and this frill pricks 
 my ears so dreadfully." 
 
 I gave the required permission, and Luke, having performed 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 149 
 
 his errand, unscrewed the latch of the door to depart, but 
 turned, and said, " He's such a wicked old gentleman." 
 
 "Who, sir? 1 ' I sharply asked ."who?" 
 
 " The governor the cunnel," replied Luke, glancing back 
 to see that nobodj was behind him, and allowing his voice to 
 sink almost into a whisper; " of all the swearing " 
 
 " Go along, sir. How dare you speak of your master thus ? 
 Go away;" and Luke Squiffwas gone. 
 
 I was not sorry to make Colonel Banjo's acquaintance, for 
 I felt satisfied that he was something of a character ; I had a 
 presentiment that his wife was a lady; I knew that his garden 
 and grounds were a little paradise, and (as the truth must be 
 told) I entertained a strong curiosity to see something of the 
 daughter who occupied so conspicuous a share of her father's 
 jealous regard, and played upon the pianoforte so touchingly. 
 On the morrow, therefore, at the appointed hour, I wended 
 my way to the neighbourhood of the mountain, and was most 
 hospitably received by the gallant colonel, at the gate of his 
 pretty villa. 
 
 Colonel Banjo was a choleric but well-meaning elderly gen- 
 tleman of what is termed the " Old School," and, it appeared, 
 had, at the instigation of Mrs and Miss Banjo, who were duly 
 shocked at him, entered into an engagement not to swear for 
 at least twelve months the colonel would not bargain for 
 longer under pain of a heavy penalty; but he had contrived 
 to hit upon so many other odd and ingenious modes of letting 
 off his superfluous steam, that I feared the colonel to be quite 
 irreclaimable; and so did all the ladies, who affected to think 
 him, publicly, a very violent and impudent man, but were all 
 the time so privately delighted and charmed with him, that 
 they would no more have dreamed of forfeiting Colonel Banjo's 
 approving nod and leer, or of sallying out upon an evening 
 stroll, or pic-nic into the woods, without Colonel Banjo's select 
 society, than the caterer and steward of that pic-nic would 
 have dreamed of starting without the hamper laden with the 
 champagne, or the basket containing the pumpkin pies and 
 beef sandwiches. 
 
150 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 Colonel Banjo figured in the battle of Waterloo, and had 
 two horses shot under him, as well as a blunt bayonet poked 
 against his stalwart chest by a corporal of the old guard, who, 
 however, after two or three unsuccessful prods, found he could 
 make nothing of him, and went away disgusted. There was a 
 lively tradition, too, current, of the colonel having, once on a 
 time, during a brief sojourn in the far west, been chased for a 
 distance of three miles over the level prairie by a wounded 
 buffalo; on which occasion, also, he out-manoeuvred his for- 
 midable antagonist, and had the subsequent pleasure and satis- 
 faction of dining off his hump. The latter interesting story, 
 indeed, Colonel Banjo himself related to me with considerable 
 humour, and had another, and still more exciting one, in store; 
 but, owing to his being called upon at the moment in the ab- 
 sence of swearing to thump the diminutive Luke Squiff upon 
 the head with a decanter, and take a turn or two into his back 
 with a cork-screw (in consideration of the young gentleman's 
 having mistaken a bin of Madeira for that of port), the colonel 
 was compelled to postpone the narration of it for the present, 
 and promised to give it me shortly. 
 
 And here, by way of episode, I shall, with the reader's per- 
 mission, relate an agreeable adventure that befell me at the 
 house of Colonel Banjo; not that there was anything unusual 
 or by any means remarkable in the affair, but because it will 
 serve as an illustration of the curious description of game, or 
 amusement, entitled " Philippine," of which I have already 
 treated. There was, among the many charming people I had 
 the pleasure of meeting at Banjo Villa, one extremely diminu- 
 tive lady, of apparently about three or four-and- thirty years 
 of age, of whom though I had perhaps no just grounds for so 
 doing I entertained a most decided horror. Miss Julia 
 Trinket was so diminutive, that, as she sat at the dinner-table 
 (with her feet some three-quarters of a yard from the floor), 
 her head was the only part of her person that was visible; and 
 she reminded me forcibly of the unpleasant little female who 
 is always found, enclosed in a square box, upon the platform 
 of the principal show at a country wake or fair; and who, at 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 151 
 
 the word of command, puts out a poor withered arm, for the 
 inspection of wondering bumpkins. And then Miss Julia 
 Trinket's little, black, restless, twinkling eyes! they were 
 everywhere, searching about, prying here, peeping there, and 
 slipping all over you, and appearing to know so much, and 
 keep it so cleverly ! There never were such glistening little 
 eyes, nor such a leering little nose, nor such a sharp compla- 
 cent little chin, nor such a demure expression of countenance, 
 nor such wafers of ears, nor such a perkish-looking little clump 
 of black shining hair. But to return. The cloth had been 
 drawn; the wine was being pushed about; and the company 
 were merry. Suddenly I caught the glance of Miss Julia 
 Trinket. I had endeavoured not to do so, but it was my fate, 
 and I felt like a bird when it encounters the gaze of the basi- 
 lisk. In another moment Luke Squiff touched my elbow, and, 
 upon my turning round, handed a plate to me. It had the 
 two half kernels of a double almond upon it. 
 
 " What are these?" I asked. 
 
 " Miss Julia Trinket, sir, begs jour acceptance of one of 
 them." 
 
 I concealed my chagrin, took the almond, and bowed to the 
 lady, to betoken my acceptation of the challenge. There was 
 an instant silence, which was broken by Colonel Banjo. 
 
 " I will bet any gentleman a dozen of wine," cried he, laugh- 
 ing, " that Julia wins her Philippine." 
 
 " Taken," replied a handsome old half-pay officer, who sat 
 to my left hand; and thereupon that corpulent veteran, whose 
 name was Major Bilberry, drew out a red memorandum-book, 
 and made an entry of the transaction. There was a murmur 
 of applause; Miss Julia Trinket's eye emitted another unc- 
 tuous twinkle; and, figuratively speaking, she was now upon 
 my trail. But I had resolved that Major Bilberry should 
 win the dozen of wine; and whether the major did, or did 
 not, will be seen hereafter. 
 
 In the cool of the day, at the suggestion of Colonel Banjo, 
 we all sallied out, and made the ascent of Mount Royal. 
 Imagination still pictures to my view the sublime scene 
 
152 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 visible from the brow of this romantic height. The sun was 
 setting over the distant Belleisle,* and the gigantic tin crucifix 
 upon his summit, flashing back the long rays of yellow light, 
 appeared to be a jewel glittering upon the bosom of the far 
 blue heaven; in the valley at our feet rolled the majestic St 
 Lawrence, azure and gold; hard by, diffusing fragrance over 
 the peaceful waters, bloomed the lovely island of St Helen's; 
 and immediately beneath us, sitting at the stately river's 
 brink, gleamed the beautiful Hochelaga the fairy city, the 
 Queen of the Canadas; every metallic roof and spire reflecting 
 the evening beams, and sending up such a blaze of crimson 
 glory, that it seemed as though the jealous earth, seeking 
 to rival the western skies in splendour, had suddenly opened, 
 and all the long-hidden riches of her treasure caves and cells 
 lay there exposed in one vast lustrous heap ! 
 
 As I was leaving Banjo Villa, Luke Squiff, who had assisted 
 me to my coat, put on a dolorous expression of countenance, 
 and said, in a subdued tone, " Isn't he a shocking example, 
 sir, for a young lad of my years? But he was quite mild 
 to-night; he always is, before company. You should see 
 him when there is nobody here ; " and Luke raised his hands 
 and eyes. 
 
 "What do you mean, sir?" I asked. "If you allude to 
 your master, I consider him a very worthy gentleman, and 
 advise you to treat him with proper respect." 
 
 Luke pocketed the tendered quarter-dollar with a business- 
 like air, and, sighing, observed, " I wouldn't care if I was 
 older; but, you see, just when one's tastes are forming, and 
 one's habits are " 
 
 "Eh? what sir?" said I, turning hastily round, and re- 
 garding Mr Squiff with much curiosity; "pray, how old are 
 you?" 
 
 "I don't know," was the rejoinder; "I may be fourteen, 
 and it's just as likely that I am fifty. I never had a father, 
 
 * Belleisle is the loftiest mountain in Canada, and has upon its topmost 
 peak a tin cross, upwards of eighty feet in height. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 153 
 
 nor a mother; but I wish to do what's right, and am very 
 much afraid I shall go wrong." 
 What a droll boy ! 
 
 "If you are going into the backwoods, I wish you would 
 take me with you," whimpered Luke, brushing a tear away 
 with his sleeve. "I could turn my hand to anything, and am 
 by no means particular about diet I believe I could almost 
 graze." 
 
 I shook my head, and walked away, thinkingly. I pondered 
 awhile upon the dubious prospects and singular precocities of 
 Luke Squiff; and then upon the charms of Miss Julia Trinket; 
 as well as upon the probability of her winning the Philippino, 
 to the unspeakable mortification of myself, and the extreme 
 discomfiture of the stout Major Bilberry. 
 
 Shakspere has told us, that he was never merry when he 
 heard sweet music. If sweet music, then, had this depressing 
 influence upon his spirits, what would have been the state of 
 his feelings, could he have listened for one second to the 
 ghastly concord of strange sounds that smote my ear, as I 
 returned late on this eventful night to my apartments in the 
 
 Hotel du C ? The boarders had got up the long- promised 
 
 bull-dance at last, and upwards of seventy gentlemen were 
 taxing their locomotive powers upon the occasion; each of 
 them, by way of running accompaniment, playing his own 
 favourite instrument as he danced; and the melodious Mr 
 Dudge, with the barrel-organ suspended by a strong cord 
 from his shoulders, moving gracefully about with the rest, but 
 pausing occasionally to ease his weary back, or arrange the 
 stops for a fresh tune. 
 
 The laughter was at its loudest, the festivities were at 
 their most exciting pitch, when one of the stewards of the 
 dance (the gentleman who played the tambarine) intimated, 
 through an enormous ship's trumpet, that there was a suspi- 
 cious sail in the offing; and the next moment in rushed the 
 
 lady of the establishment, Madame S , white with rage. 
 
 A deafening salute from the whole body of musical instru- 
 ments greeted her entry: the cymbals clashed; the organ 
 
154 
 
 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 groaned; the French horn bellowed its basest; and the spec- 
 tral-looking young Canadian who presided at the big drum 
 in the corner, seized his sticks suddenly, and rolled Napoleon's 
 favourite "pas de charge," with a vehemence that almost 
 shattered the windows. And now, too, had arrived the 
 proper crisis for the development of Mr Ben Chaffers' super- 
 natural tact and abilities. Madame, in a perfect paroxysm 
 of passion, was standing in the middle of the room, with one 
 arm extended (like Cromwell in the act of dissolving the 
 Long Parliament), about to issue an order for the instant 
 evacuation of the premises, when the irresistible Ben skipped 
 buoyantly towards her, clasped the little outstretched hand, 
 kissed it rapturously, and, catching the helpless lady round 
 the waist, whisked her five times round the apartment, to the 
 intense gratification of the whole company, who, to testify 
 their delight and approbation, struck up a tune ten degrees 
 louder and more deplorable than anything they had yet per- 
 petrated. Whether madame was soothed by the music, or 
 whether her better feelings had been worked upon by the 
 gallantry of the master of the ceremonies, has not transpired; 
 but the good lady's frown presently gave place to a gracious 
 smile, the ominous pallor resolved itself into a charming flush, 
 and when the breathless Mr Ben Chaffers eventually de- 
 posited his pretty partner at the door, instead of assailing 
 him with a storm of her bitterest invective, madame merely 
 boxed his ears, called him an impudent dog, and said she had 
 a very great mind to expel him the house. There never was 
 so seasonable an interposition; there never was so triumphant 
 a victory. 
 
 As I was retiring somewhat wearily to my chamber, I hap- 
 pened to pass the theatrical gentleman upon the staircase ; but 
 his features had undergone so strange a metamorphosis, that I 
 had much difficulty in recognising them. The poor man, it 
 appeared, had been practising his falls to such effect during my 
 absence, that he had found himself reduced to the necessity of 
 placarding his contused cranium in several places with huge 
 patches of diachylon plaster ; under which treatment it strongly 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 155 
 
 resembled the gable-end of some ill-thatched tenement that had 
 been rather extensively patronised by the bill-stickers. 
 
 ' HEAP THE TWENTY-FIFTH. 
 
 I was at length so fortunate as to secure comfortable lodgings 
 in the neighbourhood of my favourite mountain, and thencefor- 
 ward always looked upon these as my head -quarters. Here I 
 met with new scenes and new acquaintances; but, as they were 
 such as one might meet with every day, in every place, I have 
 little to say respecting them, except that they proved as quiet 
 and agreeable as the others had proved noisy and irksome. I 
 could now, moreover, enjoy perfect privacy, if I wished it. 
 
 In this boarding-house I made the acquaintance of one Mr 
 Carrol, who inquired whether I had as yet paid a visit to the 
 Belleisle Mountain, which, he assured me, was considered the 
 elder and chief of the family of Canadian Lions. I replied that 
 I had not. Neither had he; so we agreed to perform the jour- 
 ney together, and a certain Mr Meadows, who turned out to be 
 a very capital travelling companion though he had little eye 
 for the picturesque offered to accompany us. 
 
 I was called up betimes the next morning by Mr Carrol and 
 his friend Mr Meadows, who had procured a calash, and pro- 
 vided the other requisites for a day's jaunt into the country. 
 The vehicle was not intended to accommodate three persons, 
 but, as Mr Meadows was a small man (though an important 
 one withal), we contrived to put him between us, and then drove 
 straight down to the river, and into a ferry-boat, which bore us 
 to a place termed " Longeuil." From Longeuil we proceeded 
 along a fine, smooth, famous plank-road to Chambly, a distance 
 of twelve or thirteen miles, and here it became necessary for us 
 to procure a fresh horse, as our present one had been in the in- 
 variable habit of stopping at this settlement, and nothing would 
 induce him to proceed a step farther. A second animal was 
 therefore (the other having refreshed himself at the trough, 
 
156 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 and walked into the stable of his own accord) brought from a 
 neighbouring pasture, and while he was being " fixed," I took 
 a stroll into the sanctum of an apothecary hard by. The shop, 
 or surgery, contained a variety of dark mysterious-looking 
 bottles, some drawers, a score or two of gallipots, two or three 
 tall wide-mouthed glass jars (in one of which, suspended by the 
 neck, hung a small pickled cat, with his tongue out, as though 
 in derision of his fate), and the usual " beggarly account of 
 empty boxes;" while over the chimney-piece, and around the 
 walls of the apartment, flared a number of coarse caricatures, 
 of people with their mouths wide open, undergoing tooth- 
 extraction, and of several others having a leg a-piece sawn off 
 at the hip. As I was turning from them with disgust, the 
 doctor himself appeared. He was a short unwholesome-look- 
 ing man, with a dirty greasy-collared drab coat, an old nap- 
 less white hat, a clay pipe, and an air and demeanour answer- 
 ing something to that of a retired pork-butcher, or hot- pieman. 
 He ran in for his lancet-case; nodded to me; paused a moment 
 on the door-step, to gasp convulsively at his nearly extinguished 
 pipe; jumped into his cart; seized the reins; whipped a vaga- 
 bond pig, that was attacking the hair on his horse's fetlocks ; 
 and then darted away at a gallop, to inoculate an infant, and 
 phlebotomise the grandmother. 
 
 Nothing, trifle though it be, that possesses a claim to quaint- 
 ness and originality, should escape a traveller's observation, or 
 be denied a corner in his memorandum- book. Connected with 
 a portion of the outer wall of almost every farm-house we had 
 yet passed, was an affair exactly like a huge four- posted, white- 
 quilted feather-bed, without curtains; which at once suggested 
 the idea that the conjugal sky in this quarter of the globe 
 had its occasional fits of squall, and that one of the members 
 of each family preferred spending the nights in the open 
 air. But, upon inquiry, I discovered that I had put a con- 
 struction upon these strange appendages widely differing from 
 the one they were intended to bear, for they were, in fact, 
 nothing more nor less than ovens, though I am satisfied that 
 few persons of ordinary sagacity could, by any process of 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 157 
 
 their reasoning powers, have arrived at so very unexpected a 
 conclusion. 
 
 Another hour's drive along a dusty road brought us to the 
 foot of the mountain, where we alighted, and, resigning the 
 calash to a dumb man who offered to take charge of it, inquired 
 of a genteel young lady, standing in a perfect state of nudity 
 at a cottage-door, by which path we were to proceed. She 
 kindly took a few steps to point out the line of march it would 
 be proper for us to pursue, and we at once directed our ener- 
 gies to the ascent. 
 
 Passing six or seven tall crucifixes, around each of which a 
 pious party of kneeling devotees were crossing themselves, and 
 telling their beads, we soon gained Belleisle's summit; but 
 there was something so extraordinary, and unearthly, and in- 
 explicable, in the scene that it opened to the eye, that I shall 
 not attempt to describe either that, or the impression it made 
 upon me, or the ideas a contemplation of it suggested. Suffice 
 it if I say, then, that, as I gazed from the green brow of this 
 commanding eminence, Lake Champlain, the Lake of the Two 
 Mountains, the blue St Lawrence, the rapid Richelieu, the far- 
 stretching Ottawa, and the dimly developed outline of the dis- 
 tant Kaatskill, were all visible from it, together with some 
 thousands of miles of a rich and undulating country, whose 
 beauty language must vainly endeavour to portray. 
 
 By no means the least charming feature of this majestic 
 mountain is its lovely lake, which is so sweetly embosomed and 
 hemmed in by the green forest, that, without due care, one is 
 rather apt to overlook it. To appreciate its beauty the better, 
 in the absence of a canoe, we constructed a rude raft, and 
 paddled out towards the opposite bank; but, as our hastily- 
 formed batteau manifested a strong inclination to explore the 
 profundity of the dark and stilly depths beneath us, and as the 
 youngest gentleman of our party, Mr Meadows (notwithstand- 
 ing the consolation that a trite and popular adage might have 
 afforded him), insisted upon harbouring a presentiment that he 
 was about to share a fate similar to that usually awaiting a 
 thriving family of tender-aged kittens, we were induced to 
 
158 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 splash our way back to the shore, and, after descending the 
 steep, to remount the calash, and turn our faces towards home; 
 diverging a little from the main road, however, at the particu- 
 lar request of the gentleman just alluded to (who was a worthy, 
 excellent soul), in order that we might repass the cottage where 
 the picturesque young lady stood, and have the opportunity of 
 thanking her once more for the kindness she showed us in 
 pointing out the path by which the ascent of Belleisle was to 
 be effected. 
 
 On drawing up at Chambly, to recover our own horse, that 
 business-like animal who, having finished his corn, was 
 standing with his head thrust from the stable-door, anxiously 
 looking for our return walked in a most composed manner 
 across the yard to us, and backed himself scientifically into his 
 proper position between the shafts of the vehicle. I had never 
 before witnessed such a droll and systematic proceeding on the 
 part of a quadruped, and did not fail to tender my due appre- 
 ciation of his eccentricities. 
 
 HEAP THE TWENTY-SIXTH. 
 
 I was anxious to see a nunnery, and applied for admission 
 to the one they term " The Grey;" but, as no gentlemen (sav- 
 ing those ghostly fathers the priests) are admitted into the 
 private apartments of the sisters, I am not able to say what the 
 grey nuns are like, for I would not be so uncharitable as to 
 suppose for an instant that the lady who peeped through the 
 grate at me, and wielded the keys, was to be considered a 
 proper specimen. A visiter is permitted, however, to walk 
 over the hospital, and into the nursery, and of that permission 
 I availed myself, though there was scarcely anything in either 
 to afford pleasure or awaken interest, and certainly nothing to 
 inspire a stranger with the slightest wish to pay them a second 
 yisit. 
 
 THE FETE DIEU. Having been told that this splendid and 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 159 
 
 rather expensive spectacle was a very grave and imposing one, 
 I was quite prepared to be duly overcome by it, but found some 
 portions of the performance so irresistibly ludicrous, that, as I 
 had not made a vow to the contrary, I could not help laughing 
 at them. The Roman Catholic Bishop of Montreal, who was 
 the temporary representative of his Holiness the Pope, headed 
 the procession, and had to walk under a gorgeous canopy, topped 
 with a golden crucifix, with one eye applied to a cavity in a 
 piece of tinsel, supposed to be emblematic of the glance of 
 Deity; and when I saw him staring with all his might through 
 this at the hind-quarters of an unwieldy horse that had blocked 
 up the way, how was it possible for me to maintain my gravity ! 
 But the ceremony of scattering the flowers, performed by the 
 graceful and elegantly attired children, struck me as being re- 
 markably pretty, and about the most gratifying thing of the 
 whole show. As for the four or five hundred Jesuit priests 
 who followed, I tried very hard to discover one open, honest, 
 manly countenance among the whole assembly, and failed most 
 signally. They were, without exception, the ugliest, the most 
 crafty, the most sensual, the most beetle-browed and diabolical- 
 looking set of fellows I ever beheld, and appeared all at a first 
 glance (from the fact of each having a small bald place on his 
 crown) to have been labouring under a recent attack of ring- 
 worm ; but these unsightly marks, I was told, were merely the 
 insignia of their order, and the result of an application of a 
 little soft soap and a razor. About the poor nuns, and chari- 
 table sisters, who brought up the rear (each holding a tallow 
 candle of at least a yard in length), little need be said, but 
 much felt. They think they are performing a religious duty; 
 they confidently believe they are acting rightly and consistently 
 in excluding themselves from the sinful world and its no less 
 sinful pleasures; and, as sad, conscientious, suffering creatures, 
 deserve our esteem, and the kindliest sympathies of which our 
 natures are capable. They do a vast deal of good among the 
 poor, in their gentle, quiet way, and the majority of them would 
 tell you, with a suppressed sigh, that they are happy, though 
 their pale and pensive features, and heaving hearts, would give 
 
160 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 those words the lie. A blessing upon the pallid uncomplaining 
 nuns, who have affections and passions like ourselves; and con- 
 fusion to yon scowling, black-stoled, stealthy gang of moral 
 moles, who, with looks austere, to bespeak a sanctity they do 
 not know, and heads bent down, to hide the evil thoughts they 
 harbour, profess to be finger-posts to a sacred heaven that owns 
 them not, and the servants of an incensed God their lying lips 
 blaspheme. 
 
 As I was leisurely wending my way homeward along Notre 
 Dame Street, on the very morning of my visit to the Grey 
 Nunnery, I felt somebody grasp my arm, and, turning round, 
 saw Major Bilberry. Pie was purple with emotion. " Away ! " 
 gasped he; "you have not a moment to lose." He stammered 
 something further, but I did not catch its import. I heard the 
 magic words, " Julia Trinket," however, and those were suffi- 
 cient to acquaint me with the peril of my situation. Within 
 twenty yards of me, chatting to an acquaintance, came tripping 
 the diminutive lady with the twinkling eyes and complacent 
 chin. A moment's delay would have proved fatal. By dili- 
 gently declining all invitations to parties at which there was a 
 probability of her being present, I had contrived to evade Miss 
 Julia Trinket and her Philippine hitherto, and I was deter- 
 mined to evade her now. A close carriage stood near. It be- 
 longed (I afterwards learned) to a physician, who was visiting 
 a patient. I sprang into it, closed the door, and the driver, 
 thinking that his master had performed his call and got in 
 again, drove briskly away. In the space of five minutes the 
 coach stopped, the servant jumped down arid opened the car- 
 riage door, and I, to his utter astonishment, emerged from the 
 vehicle. A few words, and a half-dollar piece, soon explained 
 matters, and the physician (who arrived shortly after), accept- 
 ing my apology, and laughing in a very gracious and gentle- 
 manly manner, proceeded on his rounds. 
 
 The next day, I observed a large crowd moving in the direc- 
 tion of the " House." Parliament was about to be prorogued ; 
 and, having nothing better to do, I went to witness the cere- 
 mony. The last time I had happened to drop in, a slight alter- 
 
WHITTLINGS FKOM THE WEST. 161 
 
 cation bad taken place between two of the members, which 
 threatened serious results. One member called his brother a 
 fool a dash of politeness which induced the brother member 
 to smile scornfully, and think his honourable friend an ass; 
 who, in his turn, requested permission of the Speaker to walk 
 over and pull the honourable gentleman's nose; upon which the 
 Speaker remarked, that, if a proceeding of the kind was ab- 
 solutely essential to his comfort and peace, he (the member) 
 was to set about it forthwith, as he (the Speaker) was getting 
 hungry, and wanted his dinner. There is a gentleman, too (a 
 member of this same Legislative Assembly), whose name 
 chances to be French for a pig, and who, whenever he rises, is 
 received with such a storm of grunts varying in tone and 
 power from the suppressed squeak of a young and tender porker, 
 to the more sonorous and decided snort of an elderly sow that, 
 as he is quite unable to make himself heard, he generally re- 
 sumes his seat until these cheering tokens of the esteem and 
 good-will of his audience have subsided. 
 
 The Governor-General (whose name figures in Peninsular 
 history) was a fine silvery-haired old man ; a little infirm, per* 
 haps, and with a stoop, but he was still the soldier, and had 
 that easy, unembarrassed air and deportment which are ever 
 the leading characteristics of true nobility. But he was evi- 
 dently getting rather weary of the ceremony of prorogation ; 
 and no wonder; for every time the individual in the black gown 
 handed him one of the seventy rolls of parchment that lay upon 
 the table before him, and made a low bow with it, the earl had 
 to make a low bow too, in return, and I fancy was much rejoiced 
 when the business was over. 
 
 But the prodigious presence of mind, the perfect self-posses- 
 sion of the Governor- General, charmed me beyond measure. 
 It was his duty on this occasion to read a speech, expressive 
 of his gratitude to the Legislative Assembly for their able 
 and admirable conduct during the past session ; and, as he was 
 somewhat shortsighted, in turning over the leaves, he skipped 
 from page four to ten, and continued to read quickly on for 
 several minutes, without appearing to be at all struck with the 
 
 L 
 
162 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 incongruous nature of the compliments he was scattering around 
 him. The fact, however, seemed to occur to him at length, for 
 he paused doubtfully for a second or two, turned back to the 
 very first page, fixed his glass more firmly in his eye, and began 
 to read the speech all over again. 
 
 HEAP THE TWENTY-SEVENTH. 
 
 The term of my intended sojourn in Lower Canada having ex- 
 pired, I began to think of starting for the " bush." I had seve- 
 ral interesting localities in the neighbourhood yet to visit, but 
 I could see these by and by, for I purposed returning to Montreal 
 in February or March, and waiting the opening of the naviga- 
 tion. My arrangements were soon made ; my portmanteau (I 
 had but one) packed; my rifle cleaned, and got ready for ser- 
 vice; the necessary ammunition for a three or four months' 
 cruise in the backwoods procured; a few beads and trinkets 
 for distribution among the Indians purchased; and I had only 
 to bid my friends farewell. 
 
 The greater portion of this grave piece of business was 
 speedily despatched, but I had Colonel Banjo yet to shake 
 hands with, and to that sturdy old veteran's villa I at once re- 
 paired. Contrary to Luke Squiff's custom, instead of throw- 
 ing open the door of the spacious drawing-room, he ushered me 
 into the colonel's study. It was a large apartment, and rather 
 eccentrically furnished. There were books ; there were statues ; 
 there were pictures ; there were busts ; there were deer's heads, 
 and antlers; there were fragments of rocks, and fossils; there 
 were anatomical plates and preparations; there was a part of a 
 mummy that had been taken from a necropolis at Thebes; 
 there were some stuffed fish ; there were sabres, and pistols, and 
 fowling-pieces; there was an old hunting-coat, very much 
 soiled about the tails; there were spurs, and whips, and bows, 
 and spears, and fishing-tackle; and, among the rest, there was 
 a grotesque old clock, which kept up a dismal ticking in a 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 163 
 
 corner, and was suggestive of the deepest melancholy. I had 
 never beheld so queer an old clock, and, walking wonderingly 
 up to it, regarded the face and framework attentively. I next 
 drew out my watch, and compared the respective times. As I 
 did this, my gaze slipped from the dial of the machine down to 
 its corpulent body, and there, through a little piece of coloured 
 glass in the centre of it, I distinctly saw a human eye, twink- 
 ing villanously, and watching my every movement. My first 
 act \vas to recoil a step; my second, to turn the key of the 
 clock-door, and put it (the key not the clock) into my pocket; 
 and my third, to congratulate myself on my escape. The truth 
 instantly flashed upon me. The diminutive Julia Trinket was 
 concealed in the body of the piece of furniture I had been sur- 
 veying, and she was only waiting the fit moment to emerge and 
 win her Philippine. 
 
 But the door of her hiding-place (like the lid of the old oak 
 chest that contained the blooming bride, in the tale) was locked 
 upon her, and I had nothing to dread; so, without allowing my 
 satisfaction to betray itself in my countenance, I sat down near 
 the table, and turned over the leaves of a book. It was Bur- 
 ton's " Anatomy of Melancholy." Shortly afterwards, Colonel 
 Banjo, and his wife, and daughter, and a lady friend or two, 
 entered the room. I saw the eye of the waggish colonel rove 
 twice or thrice to the spot of the intended ambuscade, but I did 
 not seem to observe it. The next minute the wicked old gentle- 
 man coughed, as though to intimate that now was the time or 
 never; but still Julia Trinket did not appear. Colonel Banjo 
 coughed again, and I rose to take my leave. Colonel Banjo 
 pressed my hand, and would have detained me, but time was 
 valuable, and I had a presentiment that the little lady would 
 be suffocated. I cut short the leave-taking, therefore, and took 
 my departure; but paused at the gate of Banjo Villa, to put 
 the key of the scoundrel clock into the hand of Luke Squiff, 
 and desire him to present it, with my most respectful compli- 
 ments, to his master. 
 
 The next morning I proceeded by calash to Lachine, and 
 thence by steam-boat up the river St Lawrence to the famous 
 
164 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 Lake of the Thousand Isles, where I met with a little adven- 
 ture that must not be overlooked. 
 
 HEAP THE TWENTY-EIGHTH. 
 
 Who has not heard of the Lake of not Cashmere but the 
 Thousand Isles? The Thousand Isles, we say, though there 
 are in reality upwards of eighteen hundred of them, rich in 
 bloom and beauty, and forming a succession of the loveliest wild 
 pictures imaginable. Among the number, there is one which 
 (from its odd triangular shape, I suppose) has received the ap- 
 pellation of FIDDLER'S ELBOW. The steamer that plies between 
 Lachine and Kingston frequently touches at this island, and 
 lands her passengers, who, should the day be fine, amuse them- 
 selves by sauntering about till the bell rings, when they hurry 
 breathlessly on board, the plank is withdrawn, the paddles re- 
 sume their labours, and the vessel scours rapidly away again, 
 like some monstrous animal that has drunk at a fountain and 
 feels refreshed. 
 
 I was among the party who landed at Fiddler's Elbow on the 
 occasion of the present trip, but, unfortunately for my pro- 
 spects, I did not happen to be among those who had the address 
 to scramble back to the vessel's deck; and accordingly I was 
 left behind. I felt much as Alexander Selkirk must have done, 
 when he gazed around the lonely Juan Fernandez, and found 
 himself " monarch of all he surveyed." I shouted at the top of 
 my voice to the crew of the fast-retreating pucket, but the roar 
 of the noisy paddles drowned my cries; and my only alternative 
 was to wait the arrival of the morrow's boat. 
 
 "Is she gone?" gasped the pleasant voice of some person 
 who was evidently labouring under violent mental agitation. 
 I turned, and beheld a tall lady in a blue veil; and, shortly 
 after, we were joined by a deliberate-looking young man, in a 
 sort of undress military cap and surtout. The lady and he 
 were in a similar predicament with myself. They had been 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 165 
 
 wandering about Fiddler's Elbow, and the warning tones of the 
 steamer's bell had not reached their ears or, at all events, 
 their ears had not profited by them. " Is she gone ?" exclaimed 
 the tall lady, clasping her hands, and looking mournfully into 
 the distance. 
 
 " She is indeed, madam," said I. 
 
 The blue veil hid the features of the lady, but I knew that 
 she was weeping. It was an awkward thing for a young and 
 timid female to be left on a desert island with two strange 
 gentlemen. We assured her, however, that we would render 
 her situation as comfortable as circumstances would permit; 
 and, after a decent interval spent in lamentation, our fair 
 friend was prevailed upon to seat herself on a little knoll of 
 grass, while the deliberate-looking young man and I went to 
 gather sticks for a fire. 
 
 As I stooped to pick up a few dry twigs, I chanced to glance 
 toward the opposite shore of the St Lawrence. 
 
 " Ah ! I see what you are thinking of," cried St Clair for 
 that proved to be the name of the* gentleman : "it would be a 
 bold swim; still I fancy we might manage it." 
 
 "But the lady?" 
 
 " True, we must not desert her. Poor thing ! she is wringing 
 her hands yet. I wish she would remove that veil." 
 
 " We must build her a bower," said I, " as soon as we have 
 got these sticks to burn. Have you a knife? Good; now let 
 us look for a flint." 
 
 There was no flint to be found ; there were stones in abun- 
 dance, but they would not yield sparks. What was to be done ? 
 The air was growing chill ; night would soon set in, and the 
 lady with the blue veil would catch cold. I had heard that two 
 pieces of dry wood, rubbed together, would eventually ignite, 
 and now resolved to make the experiment. I did, but to no 
 purpose, and began to weary of the operation. At length the 
 sticks turned brown, then black, then they grew hot; St Clair 
 got a piece of touchwood out of a rotten tree, and in a few 
 minutes we had a grand blaze. This task accomplished, we 
 threw up a rude breastwork of turf and brambles, covered it 
 
166 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 with green boughs, and begged the lady with the blue veil to 
 accept it as her temporary abode. 
 
 We were two hours or more in effecting these arrangements, 
 and then St Clair, fanning himself with his cap, said, " It is 
 not complete, we want bedclothes." I luckily had a light 
 spare overcoat, and so had he. We divested ourselves of these, 
 and converted them into blanket and sheets; then threw a 
 heap of fresh sticks on the fire, and escorted our guest to her 
 chamber. She had not once lifted the blue veil, but her voice 
 informed us that she was young, and interesting, and pretty; 
 and, when she bade us good night, there was so much sweet- 
 ness in the tone of the salutation, and so deep a gratitude in 
 the mode of its expression, that St Clair and myself grew quite 
 enamoured of the lady, and felt that the slight service we had 
 rendered her was already sufficiently acknowledged. 
 
 St Clair and I threw ourselves upon the turf, and fell each 
 into a long train of reflection. There was a something in my 
 companion's voice and appearance that inspired me with a wish 
 to learn the particulars of his history. He had a small silver- 
 topped walking cane in his hand, and, as he reclined, he stirred 
 up the embers of the fire with its point, after the manner of a 
 man who was raking among old recollections. Presently he 
 gave the ashes an impatient push with his stick, as though he 
 had quite done with them, and, changing his position, " Come," 
 said he, "let us talk; how otherwise shall we contrive to pass 
 this dismal night?" 
 
 "Agreed," was my response; "if your thoughts, a minute 
 since, were such as you can communicate, let me know them." 
 
 " In part, willingly. I have this day completed my thirtieth 
 year, and was thinking that I should always henceforth regard 
 myself as an elderly man. It is a serious business, and awakens 
 serious reflections. How our feelings, and our aspirations, and 
 our pursuits change! What a fool does the stripling of sixteen 
 appear to the lad of two-and twenty; and how much more an 
 idiot the lad of two-and-twenty to the sober reasoner of thirty- 
 five ! What a history is the life of every individual the fol- 
 lies indulged in, and the things endured! And how stupid, 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 167 
 
 the conceits we hold at certain stages of our career. I used to 
 mutter to myself, when I gazed upon a man of forty, * What 
 have you got to live for? why don't you die?' I now dis- 
 cover that there is a possibility of existence being really quite 
 tolerable at, forty ay, and at fifty; and that (though the thing 
 is ludicrous) even an old fellow, with the snows of eighty win- 
 ters upon his head, may also have a few private reasons for 
 bearing with his infirmities a year or two longer." 
 
 St Clair interested me, and I begged him to proceed. I 
 arose to fling a fresh heap of brushwood on the fire, and hoped 
 to find him thaw. 
 
 ** I have seldom seen a darker night," said I, resuming my 
 position on the ground ; " there is not a star visible." 
 
 "And how still," returned St Clair. "I wonder whether 
 our fair friend is asleep. Hark! yes: poor girl! By the by, 
 she is tolerably well armed; there is a brace of pistols in one 
 of my coat-pockets, and a flask of choice liqueur in the other. 
 The latter would be useful to us I wonder whether I could 
 manage to abstract it, without causing her alarm." 
 
 " I fear not," said I; "you will get yourself shot." 
 
 " What, again!" cried St Clair, with a queer look. " Well, 
 you are right; we will not interrupt her slumbers, and the cor- 
 dial may prove valuable to-morrow. Come, I see you are 
 growing inquisitive; I can tell you a story; will you hear it?" 
 
 " Gladly." 
 
 " I am seldom communicatively disposed, but I feel particu- 
 larly so to-night. The world is divided into two sorts of people. 
 The one set I like, and the other I hate ; these I can be frank 
 with, and those I would keep eternally at a distance. To the 
 former 1 can open the door of my heart; and against the latter 
 I always shut, bar, and double bolt it. I will treat you as though 
 you were an acquaintance of twenty years' standing. But, be- 
 fore I begin, let us wriggle down yonder old stump of tree, and 
 trim up the fire again. So that will do." 
 
 " My name, I have told you, is St Clair. I am an Ameri- 
 can, as you have already discovered. I was born in Phila- 
 delphia. My parents both died when I was a mere child, and 
 
] C8 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 left me to the care of an uncle, who was a barrister of some 
 distinction. His father was a friend of Franklin's, and assisted 
 that eminent statesman and philosopher in drawing up the 
 celebrated Declaration of Independence. My uncle wished me 
 to be bred to the bar, but I had a preference for the army, 
 As he, however, had always shown me the greatest indulgence, 
 I did not wish to thwart his plans. In the course of time, 
 therefore, I left school, went to college, completed my studies, 
 and got honourably through all my examinations; but to this 
 day I have never practised, for, as I had inherited a sufficient 
 fortune to render me independent, there was no necessity for 
 my struggling to obtain a livelihood. A few years after I had 
 attained my majority, my uncle died, and as he had ever loved 
 me as fondly as though I had been his own son, he left me all 
 his property and estates, which were considerable. I was now 
 a rich man, and thought (as soon as I could find a wife to my 
 taste) of marrying, and settling down, and applying my wealth 
 to some useful purpose such as the diffusion of knowledge, or 
 the institution of schools, or the erection of an hospital, or, in 
 fact, anything that would prove of service to my fellow-crea- 
 tures, and enable me to feel that I had not lived a useless life, 
 nor squandered away what I had no right altogether to call my 
 awn. But, before I finally settled down (as it is termed), I de- 
 termined to travel for a year or two; to visit, among other 
 places, that wonderful country of which I had heard arid read 
 ever since I was a child, and for whose great men I had always 
 entertained so profound a veneration ; ^to ramble among scenes 
 that had been consecrated by departed genius; to view the 
 tombs of warriors and statesmen ; to saunter among the ruins 
 of ancient monasteries, castles, and abbeys, greyed by time; to 
 tread the battle-fields of past centuries ; to look upon crowned 
 heads, and satisfy myself whether they were made up of flesh 
 and blood like my own; to catch the honeyed eloquence that 
 fell from the lips of orators, and breathe the same air with men 
 who fixed the fate of empires. In short, I would make a pil- 
 grimage over England, and Scotland, and France, and Spain, 
 and Italy. I would visit Greece, and Palestine, and perad- 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 169 
 
 venture Egypt; and there was a possibility of my even pene- 
 trating as far as the East Indies; and, indeed, there was no 
 telling whether I might not eventually reach China, and take 
 a quiet cup of tea with the emperor. Thus young men allow 
 their fancies to fool them, and thus did mine carry me away 
 for the few weeks that preceded my embarkation for your noble 
 country. 
 
 " At length I bade my friends adieu, and the ship set sail. 
 We had some pleasant people on board; the Atlantic was less 
 boisterous than usual ; the wind proved fair; and, after a cruise 
 of about twenty days, we awoke one sunny morning, and dis- 
 covered that we had pushed up the Mersey during the night, 
 and were lying within rifle shot of Liverpool. I felt as one in 
 a dream. I didn't believe it. Was I really in England, and 
 should I shortly tread the shores of my fatherland? Yes, all 
 was true and tangible, for, in staggering up the steps of the 
 stately pier, I had the misfortune to jostle the captain of a troop 
 of horse, which were being slung on board one of the govern- 
 ment steamers. I apologised for jmy awkwardness, but he 
 twirled his moustache, and stabbed me with his eye. As I was 
 not in a quarrelsome mood, I pocketed the affront, and ordered 
 my servant, Peter Bosch, to see to my luggage, while I was 
 whisked away to an hotel the Adelphi, I think, they called 
 it; a fine building, something larger and more commodious 
 than one of our Hudson river boats, and with as many waiters 
 as would have formed a tolerable army in the event of any 
 sudden surprise at the hands of your lively neighbours the 
 French. I passed an agreeable week in Liverpool, and then, 
 having seen its docks and warehouses, and walked about its 
 Exchange, and chatted with some of those merchants who 
 have the reputation of being princes, I left the place, and pro- 
 ceeded direct to London.. I wish I could describe to you some 
 of my ideas and impressions, but that is impossible now, as they 
 would form a history in themselves. Stay, let us have a fresh 
 log on the fire, my legs are getting cold. 
 
 " If I am unable to describe to you the ideas and feelings that 
 the contemplation of one of your seaport towns awakened, how 
 
170 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 shall I paint my emotions upon entering the city of London ? 
 You must fancy them, and I will spare you the infliction of 
 much, to which I could, after all, afford but a poor expression. 
 Suffice it when I tell you, that I saw St Paul's, and West- 
 minster Abbey, and the Houses of Parliament, and the Tower 
 (your chief lion), and Guildhall, and Somerset House, and the 
 Coliseum, and your palaces, and your parks, as well as a thou- 
 sand other places and things which I have not time to enume- 
 rate; and one evening (to descend from the sublime to the 
 ridiculous) went to a certain notorious Madame Tussaud's, 
 where the wax figures and the living people so closely re- 
 sembled each other, that I mistook a sleek elderly gentleman 
 for a statue, and, in the enthusiasm of my simplicity, pinched 
 his huge double chin, which put the poor man in such a rage, 
 that, as I hate a riot and a mob, I thought it better to get out 
 of the place at once, and never entered it afterwards. 
 
 "I had sojourned a month in London. I had seen the greater 
 part of its sights at any rate, most of those that were worth 
 seeing had been in both Houses, and listened to the great 
 speakers; had made many little excursions into the surround- 
 ing country; had reconnoitred your brave old iron Duke as he 
 stood one day near Apsley House, consulting his watch; and 
 my curiosity being now partially allayed, I grew dull, as 
 people will occasionally do, and wanted something to rouse 
 me. I had seen a little of London life, and, as for parties, and 
 balls, and such like amiable dissipations, they were not calcu- 
 lated to relieve a fit of this kind. How should I kill my 
 ennui? Casting my eye carelessly over the columns of the 
 * Times ' that stupendous lever which moves the moral world 
 my eye dwelt upon the magic name of Kean. He was to 
 play ' Hamlet ' that night. I liked a tragedy, it always did 
 me good; I sent Peter Bosch for a cab, and drove away to 
 Covent Garden or Drury Lane was it ? I am sure I forget 
 which. The house was full to suffocation, but I feed the box- 
 keeper handsomely, and elbowed my way to the front row. I 
 did not like that much; I preferred the pit, and in getting out 
 again gave sufficient offence to lay the foundation of twenty 
 
WHITTLINGS FKOM THE WEST. 171 
 
 duels, had I felt belligerently inclined. I had got out of the 
 boxes, but how was I to get into the pit? Fortune favoured 
 me; a fat lady fainted, and had to be carried out. I seized 
 the right moment, and made good a passage. I have been 
 thus minute in describing matters, because the adventures of 
 this evening form the turning-point of my career. Kean 
 shone like a true star; he was great, and I was proportion- 
 ately charmed with him. Some exquisite music, too, between 
 the acts, played the deuce with me. I turned again, and sur- 
 veyed the long semicircle of bright eyes and pretty faces. I 
 looked toward the royal box. The queen and prince were 
 there; and, near them, dukes, and duchesses, and marquises, 
 and earls, and lords, out of number. I cared little for these, 
 or their ladies; my gaze fixed itself upon a beautiful pale girl, 
 with dark hair, adorned by one simple small wreath of pearls. 
 What a contrast to the blaze of jewels in which every other 
 would-be beauty sat enveloped ! Who was she ? An elderly 
 man, of a military aspect, stood next her. He was evidently 
 her father; his hair was almost wjiite, and, like his daughter, 
 he was eminently handsome. I gazed upon the pair until I 
 feared that I became rude; then I attempted to look elsewhere, 
 but could not. You must not think me a fool an amorous 
 blockhead a sentimental dandy; I had always laughed at the 
 insipidity of a love affair, but now saw that it was merely be- 
 cause I had not figured as the hero of it. I was in love but, 
 understand me, not as your boys of fifteen love; I cherished 
 the same respectful description of feeling for this lady that 
 Dante did for his Beatrice; Leander for his Hero; Petrarch 
 for his Laura; or, to bring it nearer to our own times, Byron 
 for Mary Chaworth. There was not a particle of sensuality 
 in this attachment. It was purely an affair of soul I wish 
 you quite to comprehend this; in fact " 
 
 " In fact, you wished to be the lady's brother," said I. 
 
 " Ye yes," replied St Clair, rather slowly. 
 
 " I comprehend perfectly." 
 
 St Clair proceeded: " A passion of this nature is the finest 
 thing that can befall a young man. He becomes dissipation- 
 
172 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 proof. He passes through the glow of his prime, as Sliadracli 
 and his brothers did through the fiery ordeal of old. He goes 
 unscathed through trials under which others would sink. 
 
 He but to the lady. I forgot Kean; I let him kill Polo- 
 
 nius; I let them drown Ophelia; what was all this to me? 
 Those dark, eloquent eyes, that pale, pensive face, that braid- 
 ed hair and simple wreath of pearls, had all my thoughts and 
 sympathies. I was deeply, devotedly in love; and, as a proof 
 that it was no transient whim, I tell you that I am in love 
 still. But the play was drawing to a close. The elite of an 
 audience seldom stay to see the whole thing out, and my pale 
 beauty was withdrawing too, and leaning upon the arm of the 
 military-looking gentleman with the white hair. I overturned 
 three people in my efforts to get out of the house; they thought 
 me mad, but I was merely endeavouring to reach the box-door. 
 Presently the pair appeared; the officer threw a shawl round 
 the lady; a carriage-door was opened; they entered; a foot- 
 man put up the steps; the driver whipped his horses; and the 
 vehicle rattled away. I was about to spring into a coach, but 
 the man told me it was engaged. I replied that I must have 
 it, and thrust a guinea into his hand, lie shook his head. I 
 told him I would double it. He hesitated; I jumped in; de- 
 sired him not to lose sight of the footman with the pink calves 
 before us: and off we went in close pursuit. The coachman 
 was a shrewd fellow; he understood me; and for three quar- 
 ters of an hour or more he followed the footman with the pink 
 stockings; turning as he turned; stopping as he stopped; and 
 at length drawing up in a remote square, somewhere at the 
 west end of the city. The door was then opened, and I got 
 out. Bah ! there were more footmen than one in pink stock- 
 ings, and I was baffled. I had been tracking to their homes 
 two stout dowagers, for whom I didn't care a dump. I could 
 have assaulted the cabman, and committed some respectful 
 violence upon the ladies, but forbore; and springing into the 
 vehicle again, ordered the driver to convey me to my hotel. 
 
 "I was completely crestfallen. It would have been some 
 consolation for me to know where my beauty lived, and be 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 173 
 
 able to walk past the house once every evening. But that 
 consolation was denied me. Her charms had taken possession 
 of me, and I could think of nothing else. 
 
 " I desponded for a week, and then (why did not the thing 
 occur to me before ?) went to the box-keeper at the theatre, to 
 inquire if he knew who the lady and gentleman were. Not 
 he; he had not even seen them; how could he distinguish 
 such an ordinary pair among so many people? The bear! I 
 had distinguished nothing else ! I waited another week. 
 Kean was to play Richard. I went, but no plain wreath of 
 pearls adorned the boxes that night. Of course not; I saw 
 the improbability of my ever meeting the white-haired officer 
 and dark-eyed lady again, and a fortnight elapsed. 
 
 There was to be a grand fete at Vauxhall. I wished to see 
 a little of everything, and resolved to saunter over the gardens. 
 I was endeavouring to forget my adventure at the theatre. I 
 had promenaded three of the broad illuminated walks, and was 
 pausing to survey a grotto. The band were playing Moore's 
 ' Last Rose of Summer.' I had often heard this sweet air in 
 New York and Boston ; and, for the moment, it carried me 
 back to the scenes of home. The music ceased, and I resumed 
 my walk. The next minute I was met face to face (the chances 
 were a million to one against it) by the officer and lady of the 
 front boxes of Covent Garden Theatre. You can conceive my 
 joy. I was about to give public expression to it, but checked 
 myself in time, and, be sure, did not lose sight of the pair once 
 during the evening. I contrived, however, to keep unseen, 
 and longed for the fireworks to commence, that I might get 
 near the lady, and him whom I believed to be her father. I 
 wished to catch her name; to learn their residence; to know 
 their ultimate destination ; for I began to fancy that they, like 
 myself, were strangers in England, and merely going the 
 round of its gaieties. At length the crowd got in motion, and 
 I moved with it. I saw a man push rudely against the lady, 
 and I saw the officer, in return, lift his cane and give the of- 
 fender a blow that made him stagger. Presently we arrived 
 at a sort of staircase, and had no sooner ascended it, than there 
 
174: WHITTLINGS FitOM THE WEST. 
 
 were two or three deafening reports, a shower of rockets, and 
 the exhibition commenced. Nothing could be better; my mi- 
 litary friend placed himself close by my side. I took care to 
 avert my face for I had a deep game to play, and a slight 
 imprudence might have caused all my plans to miscarry. 
 Soon afterwards, I heard the gentleman with the white hair 
 address the lady by the name of ' Ruth.' Ruth what a beau- 
 tiful word ! and then I heard Ruth address the gentleman as 
 ' Papa.' What music there was in the tones of that voice ! 
 Then I overheard her address him as ' Major.' I expected 
 this; there is no mistaking a man who has smelt powder, and 
 seen the bristling of bayonets. But let me shorten a rather 
 long story. Before I parted with Ruth and the major that 
 evening, I discovered their next destination to be the lakes of 
 Cumberland and Westmoreland. I learned that they were 
 about to proceed, almost immediately, to a place called Ulver- 
 ston. The discovery gratified me beyond measure, as I had a 
 wish to view this interesting locality, and was prepared to 
 start for it at any moment. You are aware how a six months' 
 sojourn in the backwoods fits a man for these sudden shifts 
 and surprises. Once certain, therefore, that there was a pos- 
 sibility of my meeting Ruth again in another part of the coun- 
 try, I turned contentedly away fearing that, if I remained 
 longer in her presence, my features might attract her observa- 
 tion and quitted the gardens. I slept and dreamed delight- 
 fully that night; but I will not relate the burden of those 
 dreams, as I read something comical in your eye, and can't 
 bear to be laughed at. 
 
 " The next day I went to a wig-maker. He measured my 
 head with much gravity, and told me that his wigs were very 
 capital ones. ' Give me half a dozen of them,' said I. The 
 man stared. I produced my address, paid the money, saw the 
 parcel despatched to my lodgings, and the same hour bade 
 adieu to the metropolis. Who that possessed an eye for the 
 beautiful and picturesque, could endure the roar and rattle of 
 a great city like London ? I would go to the Lakes. 
 
 " Ulverston is an ordinary place. I chose one of the quietest 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 175 
 
 hotels, and half fancied it would prove the choice of the major 
 and his daughter also. It did. I was standing at the window 
 admiring the sunset, when a travelling carriage rattled up to 
 the door, and the pair alighted. They occupied a room above 
 my head. I heard the martial tramp of the major's heavy 
 boot, and now and then caught the tones of his deep rich voice. 
 They walked out in the twilight, and, as they returned, I heard 
 the mnjor say for the window was open ' We will go and 
 view the ruins of the abbey to-morrow.' The abbey what 
 abbey? I inquired of the waiter. Furness Abbey, distant 
 about seven miles. The waiter, who was a loquacious fellow, 
 told me that there was a gentleman above-stairs who had 
 ordered a post chaise for nine o'clock in the morning, and there 
 was no doubt, as he was going to inspect the ruins, that my 
 company would prove very acceptable to him. I rebuked the 
 man for his stupidity, and told him to send me the postilion 
 whose services would be required on the occasion. He came. 
 I thrust a piece of gold into his hand, and promised to double 
 it, if he obeyed my instructions. The man was wax, and I 
 moulded him to my wishes. Money is the moving power. 
 
 " At the appointed moment the following day, I stood at the 
 inn-door, ready breeched, capped, booted, and spurred, for a 
 journey. Ruth and her father got into the carriage; a waiter 
 shut it up ; I sprang to the back of one of the horses ; and away 
 we went. It was a mad freak, but the pleasure of being near 
 Ruth, and perhaps exchanging a word with her, reconciled me 
 to it. We soon reached the abbey. I offered my arm as Miss 
 Leyden (for that was her name) alighted, and she leaned upon 
 it, and thanked me. I had a black wig on, and, as the major 
 walked away in the direction of the ruins, I heard him say, 
 4 A dashing postilion that, upon my word too tall, though, by 
 at least a head.' Ruth made some reply, but it was couched 
 in too low a tone for me to catch the import of it. 
 
 "Have you seen the ruins of Furness Abbey? They are 
 very beautiful* the most beautiful, perhaps, in England; and 
 I thought their charms enhanced by those of the lovely girl 
 who now rambled among them. She had untied her bonnet- 
 
176 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 strings, and allowed her dark glossy hair to wave at will about 
 her neck and shoulders. Her sweet, expressive face, rosed 
 with exercise and the summer gale, would have formed a fine 
 study for a Raphael or a Correggio. The memory of those mo- 
 ments haunts me yet, wherever I go. By and by, she lightly 
 sprang upon the projecting angle of a broken column, with the 
 hope of obtaining a better view of one of the splendid windows ; 
 and, in descending, would have fallen, had I not anticipated the 
 disaster, and caught her in my arms. She laughed at the acci- 
 dent, but the major viewed the thing seriously, and, thrusting 
 his hand into his pocket, endeavoured to force money upon me. 
 I, however, forgetful of everything but my offended dignity, 
 bent upon him such a look of scorn, that he recoiled a step, and 
 then expressed his obligations in a different manner. Shortly 
 afterwards, a party of three or four prattling ladies, and a 
 daintily dressed gentleman or two, arrived to inspect the abbey, 
 and we left them in sole possession of the spot. Ruth leaned 
 again upon my arm as she entered the carriage, and said, in my 
 hearing, that, saving for the prompt assistance I had rendered, 
 she must have met with a severe fall. The major echoed the 
 words; and I was much amused, when we alighted at Ulverston, 
 to observe him weighing the propriety of presenting me with a 
 trifle for the services I had shown them in my capacity of pos- 
 tilion. My scornful look, when he had before offered me 
 money, seemed to be lurking in his recollection. I relieved 
 him from his embarrassment by dashing briskly away, and re- 
 signing the chaise to the real postilion in the inn-yard. I was 
 satisfied with the day's adventure, and began to plan another." 
 Here St Clair paused, for he had talked himself nearly 
 hoarse, and it became incumbent on us to refresh ourselves with 
 an' hour's sleep. 
 
 HEAP THE TWENTY-NINTH. 
 
 I was the first to awake, and replenish the fire. St Clair 
 was roused by the crackling of the logs, and arose also. I re- 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 177 
 
 quested him to proceed with his narrative, which he did in 
 these words: 
 
 " The major and his daughter did not make any long stay in 
 the insipid, flaring town of Ulverston. With the exception of 
 Furness Abbey, and a certain priory, the neighbourhood has 
 no attractions worth mentioning, and Ruth and her father soon 
 abandoned it for the more interesting localities of Coniston and 
 Windermere. To the former I did not follow them. It was 
 enough that we should meet at Ambleside, but every minute 
 seemed a month to me until that desirable event came about ; 
 and when it at length took place, there came with it a little 
 adventure which both saddened and pleased me. Major Leyden 
 and Ruth wandered out one evening to view a pretty fall of 
 water (Stock- Gill Force. I think they call it), situate close to 
 the hotel in which we had fixed our residence, and his foot hav*- 
 ing slipped, he had got very wet and bruised, and was eventually 
 obliged to confine himself to his room. I had the whole affair 
 from the waiter, who was on the eve of fetching a doctor. He was 
 in a hurry, but I clapped a crown-piece into his hand, and bade 
 him say that a physician would be in attendance upon the sick 
 gentleman immediately. I accordingly donned a grey wig and 
 whiskers; a broad-brimmed hat, and sober-looking coat; a 
 white cravat, painfully stiff with starch ; called up my most 
 solemn expression of countenance, and entered the major's 
 chamber. 
 
 " Ruth was sitting by her father's bedside. She was in tears, 
 but he was laughing. He told her that he had merely caught 
 a slight cold, and would be well again to-morrow. I looked 
 grave, and bade the patient put out his tongue. I then felt his 
 pulse, and scanned my gold watch with a sidelong glance that 
 must have had a capital effect. 
 
 " * Pray is there any danger, sir?' asked Ruth. 
 
 " ' Not the least, madam,' was my reply ; * none whatever.' 
 
 i: ' Were there symptoms of fever?' 
 
 " The major laughed again. * My dear Ruth,' cried he, ' you 
 will positively make me ill, if you talk in this way. I assure 
 you that I scarcely feel anything the matter.' 
 
 M 
 
178 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 " And the fact was, lie had nothing the matter, but I in- 
 tended to keep him in bed, because it would give me an oppor- 
 tunity of talking again with Ruth. 
 
 " ' I shall get up/ said Major Leyden. 
 
 " 'No, no,' said I, 'you must remain where you are; I will 
 order an embrocation for your back, and send something that 
 will procure you a comfortable night's rest. Pray do not think 
 of rising.' 
 
 " ' I hope you will come again,' said Ruth. 
 " ' I will certainly do so,' replied I, coughing in a professional 
 manner, and making my exit. The waiter had been looking 
 through the key-hole. 
 
 " On the occasion of my next visit to the major, I found him 
 calmer, and better in every respect. I smiled, to imply that I 
 had expected as much. 'Have the goodness to feel my 
 daughter's pulse, sir,' said the grey old veteran; 'she has 
 fidgetted herself a good deal on my account, and looks poorly.' 
 It was Ruth's turn to laugh now, but her excellent papa, assum- 
 ing an imperative air, said, ' It is my wish,' and she instantly 
 held out her beautiful white hand. I produced my watch 
 again, and was some time in pronouncing an opinion; but it 
 proved to be a favourable one, and I intimated that I should 
 have no occasion to repeat my call. The major strove to force 
 a five-pound note upon me. I told him that one guinea was 
 my usual fee. ' Do you value my life at a guinea, sir?' asked 
 Major Leyden. 'And do you value it at five?' retorted I. 
 He was mute. I broke the silence by observing, that I had 
 already realised a fortune, and practised merely for my pleasure 
 and the sake of doing good. I then bowed, and left the room ; 
 but regretted afterwards that I had not made my patient keep 
 his bed a day or two longer. 
 
 " Ffom Ambleside, after visiting Rydal, and Grasmere, and 
 Esthwaite, and other adjacent lakes, Major Leyden posted to 
 Keswick, which was the scene of my next adventure. You 
 will perhaps wonder why, instead of following Ruth about from 
 place to place, I had not sufficient courage to procure a regular 
 introduction, and go through the usual tame formalities of a 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 179 
 
 courtship; but you will wonder less, if you reflect that I was an 
 utter stranger in England, without a friend in the whole coun- 
 try ; and, had I been so precipitate as to express my regard for 
 the lady, the probability is, she would have deemed me a mere 
 adventurer, and politely declined the distinction of my acquaint- 
 ance. No, no; an intimacy that is to terminate in an attach- 
 ment should always be the result of accident not of premedi- 
 tation. In the one case, it has an air of business and formality 
 which is quite provoking, and enthusiastic natures cannot 
 brook; in the other case, it wears a dash of romance, which, 
 with sensitive and amorously-disposed people, is particularly 
 attractive and taking. You understand me, I trust? 
 
 " You have heard of Keswick, and its charming lake Der- 
 wentwater. You have seen them, eh ? very good. I chose 
 the quietest hotel, as usual; the major did the same; and once 
 more Ruth and I were separated by a mere strip of lath and 
 piaster. I frequently caught the tones of her rich voice, and 
 heard the measured tramp of the major along the spacious 
 room ; for he had a habit of walking about with his hands be- 
 hind him, a la Napoleon Bonaparte. 
 
 "It was evening; one of those rich, still, mellow summer 
 evenings which soothe and purify the heart such as Adarn 
 must have passed with his Eve, ere sin entered the world, and 
 human nature fell. The window was open, and I heard the 
 major, as he stood at the casement of the room above, propose 
 an hour's cruise on the lake. Ruth evidently was charmed 
 with the thought. The bell rang, and the waiter was closeted 
 with them for some minutes. I waylaid him as he returned, 
 tossed some silver into his napkin, and bade him bring me the 
 key of the boat that belonged to the inn. He obeyed. I had 
 provided myself with a neat straw hat, and light^ aquatic 
 trousers, such as the lake boatmen wear, and, hastily putting 
 them on together with a flaxen wig I hurried at once down 
 to the shore of Derwentwater, seized my sculls (for there was 
 not a breath of air to countenance a sail), and paddled about 
 until the arrival of Ruth Leyden and her father. They did 
 not keep me long waiting, and, having once embarked, I pulled 
 
180 WHITTLINGS FK01I THE WEST. 
 
 steadily away in the direction of Lowdore. I had heard of 
 Lowdore, and expected to see a fine cataract. I think all the 
 water that trickled over the rock that evening would scarcely 
 have filled my hat. But the scenery was superb; rather like 
 that of the St Lawrence between Green Island and Quebec, 
 though, of course, on a much smaller scale. The sun had just 
 set; the sky was crimson, blue, and gold; and every time we 
 looked up it had undergone some change, which rendered the 
 prospect ten times more beautiful. The major was enchanted. 
 Ruth sat silently gazing upon the bold outline of mountains 
 around us, and ever and anon heaving a sigh, as though her 
 heart overflowed with pleasure, and she were thinking what a 
 paradise earth would have been, had its first children retained 
 their primeval innocence. 
 
 "'Pray what is the name of that mountain yonder?' in- 
 quired the major, suddenly. I was looking pensively at Ruth, 
 and the question caused me considerable embarrassment. 
 Major Leyden repeated it. I was quite at fault for the requi- 
 site information, but I had heard of Skiddaw, and thought he 
 would suit my purpose ; so I said that it was Skiddaw, and the 
 one behind, Saddleback. 
 
 " 'And that?' asked the major, pointing to another. 
 
 " ' Helvellyn.' 
 
 "'Aha, that is Helvellyn. We must climb it to-morrow, 
 Ruth, if the morning should prove favourable.' 
 
 "I asked whether they would not require a guide. The 
 major replied, 'Yes, probably;' and inquired whether I could 
 recommend him one. I offered my services, and they were 
 accepted. Major Leyden scrutinised my features, and re- 
 marked, in an under-tone to Ruth, ' How much our friend here 
 resembles the young man who drove us to Furness Abbey!' 
 Then, leaning towards me, he added, ' Have you a brother in 
 the neighbourhood of the Lakes ?' 
 
 " ' No.' 
 
 " ' Ah ! do you ever serve in the capacity of postilion ?' 
 
 " I felt the warm blood rush to my face. ' Occasionally,' 
 replied I. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 181 
 
 " ' Did you ever see us before ?' was the next query. 
 
 " I could not utter a falsehood, and answered that I had. 
 
 " ' Then it ivas you that went with us to the abbey ?' 
 
 " ' Yes/ 
 
 " ' I thought so,' said the major, < and yet your hair ' 
 
 " I made a great splash with one of the oars, and, in iny con- 
 fusion, ran the boat upon the little island of St Helen's. Ruth 
 seemed alarmed, but her father assured her there was no danger; 
 and the evening beginning to draw in, he told me to make for 
 shore. I saw nothing more of father or daughter that day. 
 
 " After breakfast the next morning, I began to prepare for 
 the journey to Helvellyn. The waiter was in my pay, and gave 
 me the necessary instructions for my procedure. Presently, 
 however, he ran into my room, and, with a pale face, informed 
 me that Major Leyden and his daughter were gone. 
 
 "'Gone!' echoed I; 'where?' 
 
 " He knew not, and I was frantic. 
 
 " ' They received a letter this morning,' said the waiter, 
 'which appeared to give them some trouble, for Major Leyden 
 packed his portmanteau, paid his bill, ordered a post-chaise, 
 and went away almost at a gallop.' 
 
 " ' Did he say whether he would return ?' 
 
 " < No.' 
 
 " ' Did he leave his address?' 
 
 " ' No.' 
 
 " ' Send the landlord here.' 
 
 " The landlord knew nothing of Major Leyden ; he had never 
 seen the gentleman before; and the name was not at all fami- 
 liar to him. He paid his way handsomely, that was all the 
 landlord knew; and the young lady had been very kind to 
 several poor people in the neighbourhood. The driver of the 
 carriage in which the pair had flitted would probably be able 
 to furnish me with some information respecting their move- 
 ments. 
 
 "Towards evening the postilion returned, and I cross- 
 examined him closely on the subject of the major's destination. 
 The man shook his head. He had gleaned nothing that was of 
 
182 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 service to me. He had left the major at Ambleside. It was 
 my turn to pack up my portmanteau now, and I did so with 
 much expedition. I reached Ambleside the same night. 
 
 " I ran to the quiet hotel in the neighbourhood of the water- 
 fall. The major had left it an hour or two previously. I posted 
 on to Milthorpe (I think that was the name of the place). They 
 had quitted Milthorpe for Liverpool. I went poste-haste to 
 Liverpool, and inquired for my friends at the Adelphi. They 
 had not been heard of in that quarter. I was nearly mad. It 
 was in vain that I despatched Peter Bosch to every hotel in 
 the town ; he returned to me with a blank face. I sent him to 
 all the coach-offices, with the same success. I shut myself up 
 in a retired room, and walked up and down it for a whole day. 
 Ruth was lost to me. Could I have learned the major's ad- 
 dress, I might perhaps, through my numerous letters, have pro- 
 cured an introduction to him, and in the course of time won 
 his daughter in your true and legitimate way. I had but one 
 alternative. I must spell over the directories of every town in 
 the kingdom; but suppose Major Leyden lived in the coun- 
 try! Why not put an advertisement in the 'Times' news- 
 paper? The idea pleased me, and I grew calm. 
 
 " The inquiry met with an immediate reply. Major Leyden 
 resided in Leamington, and would be happy to communicate 
 with the advertiser. I now began to cool down, and wonder 
 at my impudence. What was Major Leyden to me ? or, rather, 
 what was I to Major Leyden? What grounds had I for thrust- 
 ing my acquaintance upon him ? If I told the story of my 
 strange passion for his daughter, would he not regard me with 
 a suspicious eye; or, more, think me some strolling stage-struck 
 vagabond, or a lunatic escaped from his keepers ? And yet, 
 what was to be done? It was too late to withdraw. The 
 major had appointed a place of meeting in town, whither he 
 was about to repair. The interview was to take place at a 
 retired coffee-room, within a few minutes' walk of Trafalgar 
 Square. I screwed my courage to the sticking-point, and was 
 true to the engagement. 
 
 " Bah ! there were more Major Leydens than one : for the 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 183 
 
 man who came forward and announced himself as the indivi- 
 dual answering to that name, had a rotund purple face, a per- 
 fectly bald head, a twinkling eye, and a pair of cheeks like the 
 two halves of a pumpkin. I drew back with dismay, and flung 
 myself disappointedly upon a chair. 
 
 " ' I fear there is some mistake,' said the fat gentleman. 
 
 " ' There is, indeed,' said I. ' You are not the person I ex- 
 pected to see.' 
 
 " ' But that's no reason why we should not have a bottle of 
 wine together, I suppose, is it?' returned he of the bald head 
 and purple face. ' I thought your advertisement a rather 
 curious one, and was at a loss to conceive how my address could 
 prove beneficial to anybody. I reflected, however, that per- 
 haps one of my rich old comrades was about to die, and con- 
 templated leaving me a legacy; so I deemed it advisable at all 
 events to respond to your communication. Come, never mind, 
 you appear a pleasant fellow, and I am not sorry to make your 
 acquaintance. There's my card ; I wets major, but they have 
 latterly made me a colonel.' 
 
 " Colonel Leyden and I passed an agreeable afternoon. He 
 related some amusing stories of his old campaigns on the Con- 
 tinent, and as much as acknowledged that he had been a very 
 sad dog in his early days, and played the deuce among the 
 women ; and I gave him, in return, a sketch of my adventures 
 since I had left America. He listened attentively, and asked 
 why I did not apply to the war-office for the address of Ruth's 
 father ? The thing had never occurred to me. The colonel 
 offered to procure the requisite information ; and in a day or 
 two he actually got it. I could not be sufficiently thankful to 
 him. He pressed my hand kindly, wished me success, invited 
 me to go and stay a week with him in Leamington; and so we 
 parted. 
 
184 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 HEAP THE THIRTIETH. 
 
 " I was now," continued St Clair, " in possession of Mnjor 
 Lejden's address, and resolved at once to avail myself of so 
 valuable a piece of information. He had a seat in the country ; 
 in one of the most delightful parts of Worcestershire. He was 
 a man of large property; had a noble mansion and estate; and 
 kept his pack of hounds, in the brave old English style. Hav- 
 ing gleaned these particulars respecting him, I repaired to a 
 sequestered village in the neighbourhood of his residence. To 
 my extreme chagrin,, however, I learned that the major and 
 his daughter were in France, and not expected to return until 
 late in September, or perhaps the middle of October, Here 
 was a disappointment; but I bore it like a philosopher, and 
 rummaged over my letters of introduction, of which, I am 
 ashamed to say, I had as yet scarcely delivered one. I looked 
 in vain for any that might be addressed to people in Worces- 
 tershire, or the counties adjoining; and then wrote off to seve- 
 ral of my friends in America, hoping that some of them might 
 have acquaintance in this part of the Old Country, through 
 whom I could procure a passport to the intimacy of the major. 
 This scheme also failed me, and I saw that my own ingenuity 
 must provide the coveted introduction. In the meantime, as I 
 was in no mood (do not think me a misanthrope) to cultivate 
 the acquaintance of strangers, and squander my time away in 
 the exchange of senseless visits and cold politenesses with 
 people who could care nothing for me, and for whom I could 
 care as little in return; and, as I had furthermore a turn for 
 reading, I supplied myself with a few books, and took up my 
 quarters in a picturesque farm-house, within an hour's ride of 
 the Malvern Hills, and contiguous to the estate of the veteran 
 major. 
 
 " My host was a burly farmer, with an honest bluff face, 
 which, like its prototype the sun, rose at four every morning, 
 and set about eight every night. His name was Moth Aaron 
 Moth and he was a Serjeant in the yeomanry. Witness the 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 185 
 
 heavy sabre that continually winked at you from the wall, and 
 the scarlet-faced uniform coat (with the painfully small deve- 
 lopment of tail) hanging from a peg in an inner room. My 
 hostess was a talkative old lady, who had the private history 
 of every family in the county at her finger-ends. I found 
 her admirably adapted to my purposes. I was not long in 
 learning from her every circumstance relative to the major's 
 career and prospects, as well as those of his beautiful daughter 
 Ruth, upon whose charms and amiability Mrs Moth was never 
 tired of descanting. But there was one subject on which I 
 dreaded to touch. It was a delicate matter, was it not? By 
 and by the thing dropped out. Among Ruth's numerous 
 suitors, was a neighbouring squire (a great fox-hunter), who 
 visited the Hall regularly; and old Hannah half hinted that 
 this dashing gentleman was rendering himself particularly 
 polite and agreeable to Miss Leyden, A fine stately fellow he 
 was, too, according to Mrs Moth's description ; six feet and an 
 inch without bis boots, and the best and boldest rider in the 
 country. He was also a captain in ..the aforesaid cavalry, and 
 wore a fierce moustache five inches long. I was anxious to see 
 the man, and soon had my curiosity gratified. 
 
 " I was walking down a cool lane toward the hour of sunset, 
 one calm evening. I had a book in my hand. A moustached 
 gentleman, admirably mounted, turned the corner, and ad- 
 vanced at a trot. I gave him the road. He pointed to a gate, 
 with his whip. ' Now, Sawney, open me that gate,' was his 
 salutation. The book was not a heavy one, or I should have 
 launched it at him. I resumed the perusal of it. * Do you 
 hear?' cried he. I did, but read on. He cleared the lash of 
 his whip, and raised his arm. I picked up a pebble, the size of 
 his head, and gave him a look. He understood it, and the arm 
 dropped again to his side* 
 
 " ' Who are you ?' asked he. 
 
 "'An American,' was my reply; 'who are you?' He did 
 not respond, but stared intensely at me. I knew what his 
 private sentiments were. He had always supposed Americans 
 to be black; so do a great many of your countrymen. Squire 
 
186 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 Haughton (that was his name) attempted to open the gate 
 himself, but failing, cleared it at a bound, and rode on. I saw, 
 by his shadow, that he had turned in his saddle, and was sur- 
 veying me, but I appeared not to observe it, and resumed the 
 perusal of my book. 
 
 " September had rolled away; October came. The major 
 and Ruth returned from France. I was determined to make 
 their acquaintance, and believed that some lucky accident would 
 yet throw them in my way. The hunting season was at hand, 
 and a grand meet of sporting gentlemen was to take place in the 
 meadow that fronted the Hall. Major Leyden and Ruth (I 
 had encountered them once or twice in my rambles, as well as 
 at church) were to grace the affair with their presence. But 
 I had no horse. I started instantly for London, and went to a 
 celebrated stable in Islington. Several powerful hunters were 
 exhibited to me, though, on putting their mettle to the proof, 
 I did not find them all I wished. The proprietor of the esta- 
 blishment told me he had a black blood horse, which nobody 
 save himself dare back, but he would not sell him, nor would 
 he let him out for the season. I asked if no money would 
 tempt him. He said a deposit of a hundred guineas might. I 
 at once drew him out a cheque, on a well-known house in 
 town, for the amount; and, after satisfying himself that I 
 was no black-leg, he resigned the animal to my care. I have 
 hunted on the prairies, and knew perfectly well how to tame a 
 refractory horse. I soon conquered the spirit of the present 
 one, and made him follow me like a dog. I tried him at a six-' 
 barred gate, and he took it without any apparent effort. I put 
 him to his speed he had wings. 
 
 " The morning appointed for the grand hunt arrived. There 
 was a large field of gentlemen, and Ruth, beautifully mounted, 
 curvetted about the lawn. The squire was at her side. Major 
 Leyden had donned his scarlet cutaway, and looked as though 
 he were eagerly anticipating the sport. I cantered into the 
 group. I had dispensed with my wigs, for there was no longer 
 need of disguise, and I had now to come out in my true cha- 
 racter. Both myself and my horse were the subject of much 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 187 
 
 criticism; the major saw that I was a stranger, and, with a 
 politeness peculiar to military men, bowed pleasantly as I passed 
 him. Directly afterwards, I saw him speak with the squire, 
 who bent an embarrassed glance on me, and made some re- 
 mark that I could not overhear. My horse was evidently 
 attracting much notice. He stood with his black neck arched, 
 like a Turk's bow, and pawed the ground with impatience to 
 be away. 
 
 " I, who have hunted bears and buffaloes, scouted the idea 
 of chasing a sneaking scoundrel fox; but I had an object in 
 view an end to gain and set it steadily before me. I had 
 already attracted the notice of the major ; I had now to provoke 
 his curiosity, and excite his admiration. I had proved the 
 powers of my horse, and it remained for me to exhibit them. 
 
 "The squire rode by the side of Ruth; the major mingled 
 with the gentlemen. I could not avoid overhearing a conver- 
 sation which took place between him and one of the latter. 
 
 " ' Who is he?', asked an elderly man. 
 
 " ' An American, Haughton tells me,' replied Major Ley- 
 den ; * a perfect stranger they say, and yet I seem to know his 
 face.' 
 
 " ' An American, eh?' added the other, turning rather rudely 
 round, and eyeing me closely. * Why, Leyden, he is a white 
 man.' 
 
 " * And why not?' was the major's laughing response. * His 
 horse, however, is black enough; pure negro, I warrant;' and 
 the facetious veteran took a ditch and double rail in gal- 
 lant style. His friend refused them; and there was a long 
 kicking-match between himself and steed. 
 
 " In a few minutes, renard was scented, the hounds gave 
 tongue, the fox broke cover, and away we went, full cry. Ruth, 
 having accompanied us thus far, drew rein on a knoll of turf, 
 and followed us with her eye. The squire rode second; I 
 passed him easily, and looked back upon him with a smile of 
 ineffable contempt. The major was first; I bounded to his side, 
 and neck and neck together we led the chase. I could have 
 outstripped the veteran in a moment, but I was content to di- 
 
188 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 vide the honours with him. He cast a sidelong glance upon 
 me, topped a stiff fence in a clever manner, and pushed his 
 hunter to greater speed. It was of no use; I headed him, and 
 he good-humouredly cried, 'Well done, sir; well done; if I 
 were not too old to learn, I should inquire where you took your 
 first lesson in horsemanship.' 
 
 " ' On the prairies of the west,' said I, with a smile. 
 
 " ' I thought as much. You will dine with us at the Hall 
 this evening. Nay, no denial; I wish to know you.' 
 
 "The conversation was here interrupted; the major had 
 slackened his pace. There was an awkward gate in front of 
 us, and, as we had no inclination to risk our necks unneces- 
 sarily, we paused, while one of the whippers-in tried to open 
 it. Haughton, the squire, rode up at the same instant, and 
 called out to me to clear the way. I laughed, for I knew there 
 was not a hunter in the field (unless it was my own) that would 
 face such a frightful leap. I turned aside, however, and Haugh- 
 ton's steed rose at it, but hung by the fore-legs. I gave my 
 own black barb the rein, and cleared gate, horse, and rider, 
 at a bound; the off-hind heel of the noble animal I bestrode 
 brushing the squire's head as I flew over him, and carrying 
 away his purple hunting-cap, There was a simultaneous burst 
 of admiration from the gentlemen, and of rage from Haughton, 
 who, after a violent and protracted struggle, at length succeeded 
 in scaling the barrier. Soon afterwards the fox was killed ; 
 and, as 1 was the first to leap to earth and lash the hounds 
 from their prey, Major Ley den ordered the huntsmen to pre- 
 sent me with the brush, which I tucked deliberately under my 
 arm, and then remounted. The squire witnessed the transac- 
 tion. He was looking oaths. Had we not better heave a 
 fresh tree on the fire? I am cold. 
 
 HEAP THE THIRTY-FIRST. 
 
 " You will tire of my story, and I will shorten it as much 
 as I can. I dined at the Hall, be sure, and was introduced to 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 189 
 
 Ruth. I sat next to her, and precisely opposite the squire, 
 who let slip no opportunity of insulting me. In conversation, 
 like too many of your country squires, he was a mere boor; he 
 could talk of nothing but his horses, and his dogs, and his 
 crops. Upon any other subject than these, he was a profound 
 ignoramus; and as the discourse, unfortunately for him, did 
 not happen, during Miss Leyden's presence, to touch upon 
 these interesting topics, he sat almost mute, while Ruth and I 
 talked about the scenery of America its prairies, rivers, 
 forests, and cataracts. The major, too, who was a man of 
 taste, put many queries to me touching Niagara, and the 
 lakes, and the wild tribes inhabiting the interior of the country. 
 Subsequently, he took a review of the day's hunt; and the 
 disaster that the squire had met with having been pretty 
 openly canvassed, a hearty laugh was raised at his expense, 
 and in this Major Leyden himself joined. The misfortune 
 that had befallen him in the freld, together with the attention 
 I had been paying to Ruth, had sufficiently stirred Haughton's 
 bile; and the ridicule which was now, harmlessly enough, 
 showered upon him, put a finishing stroke to his rage. But 
 his sufferings were not over. The elderly gentleman, who 
 had criticised my equestrian skill in the morning, proposed 
 rny health, and it was drunk with due honours. The squire 
 alone sat motionless, with his glass unreplenished upon the board. 
 
 "'What is this?' cried Major Leyden. Haughton, re- 
 member that this is an insult no less to me than to my guest. 
 Either fill, or leave my table.' 
 
 " Haughton rose accordingly, and strode heavily from the 
 room. He fixed a glance upon me as he retired. I could not 
 misunderstand its meaning, and we met that night. 
 
 " We met by moonlight, on the lawn fronting the major's 
 mansion. I am no duellist, and had nothing to avenge. It 
 appeared, however, that Haughton was, and had. He was 
 possessed of brute courage, and did not scruple to expose his 
 own life in exchange for the satisfaction of taking mine. As 
 I had scarcely an acquaintance in England (except, perhaps, 
 my man Peter Bosch), the major insisted on acting as my 
 
190 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 second. He was loath to involve himself in an affair of the 
 kind; but he had a high sense of honour, and I was his guest. 
 What could he do ? 
 
 " Haughton and I took our ground, and received each his 
 weapon. He was to fire first, and did so. It was now my 
 turn; but, before I discharged my pistol, I inquired whether 
 it was my opponent's intention to demand another shot. He 
 replied in the affirmative. I bade him then prepare for death, 
 as, having perilled rny life once, it was my duty not to ri>k it 
 again. He signalled for a moment's parley with his second, 
 and expressed himself satisfied. So was I ; and, in place of 
 driving the bullet through his head, I put it through his hat. 
 The next moment I fainted, and was carried into the house. 
 I had received a flesh-wound in my right side, and was unable 
 to conceal it longer. 
 
 " I can see that you are growing weary of my tale, and will 
 draw it to a close as quickly as possible. My wound, which 
 was by no means a dangerous one, having been dressed, Major 
 Leyden insisted on my making his house my residence for the 
 term of my stay in Worcestershire. In return, 1 thought it 
 would be better to unburden my bosom to him at once, and 
 obtain his permission to pay my addresses to Ruth. He shook 
 his head gravely; his countenance assumed a severe expres- 
 sion ; and he said, that, indeed, was another matter altogether, 
 though he declared I had acted in a very open, honourable 
 manner, and he liked me all the better for it. He said that 
 nine young men out of ten would have first endeavoured to pos- 
 sess themselves of the affections of the daughter, and then made 
 the confession of the thing to the father a mere secondary con- 
 sideration. ; But,' said he, ' I have no faith in this love at 
 first sight. I was several years in building up an attachment 
 to my wife. You have scarcely known Ruth a week, and ' 
 
 "'Pardon me,' interposed I; 'I have known her and you 
 more than six months.' 
 
 " The major opened his eyes. 
 
 " ' Six months,' reiterated I. ' Have you no recollection of 
 going to see Kean play ' Hamlet,' at Drury Lane Theatre ?' 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 191 
 
 " ' To be sure I have.' 
 " ' Very good; I was there.' 
 "'Oh!' 
 
 " ' And have you, moreover, lost sight of the visit you paid, 
 in company with your daughter, to Vauxhall Gardens?' 
 
 '"Upon my word, no; I remember it perfectly, and flat- 
 tered myself that nobody knew us.' 
 
 " ' Nor did anybody, but I wished to do so, and learn your 
 address. You afterwards visited Ulverston, and Furness 
 Abbey.' 
 
 " ' Yes, yes ; I believe we did.' 
 
 " ' Oh, I am sure you did, as I took you there myself. 1 
 "'You?' 
 
 "'I; do you forget the postilion who refused to receive a 
 remuneration ?' 
 
 " ' Ay, and saved the life of Ruth, too.' 
 '"Well; and perhaps you still bear the beauties of Der- 
 wentwater in mind, and your cruise along its shores?' 
 
 " ' You surprise me, and evidently mean to imply that you 
 officiated as voyageur.' 
 
 '"Precisely; and as doctor also, the next day, when you 
 were taken poorly, and, in addition to my care of yourself, 
 wished me to prescribe for your daughter.' 
 
 '"Come this way,' cried the major, seizing my hand; 'I 
 can't understand all this at once; Ruth must hear it.' 
 " ' I had rather wait awhile,' said I. 
 
 " ' Well, then, you must tell your own story, that is all,' said 
 Major Leyden, shrugging his shoulders. ' I have a great mind 
 to make known the whole affair to my friend, G. P. R. James, 
 who would spin three volumes out of it. There; don't tell me 
 any more to-day; I have to transact business with my steward.' 
 " And I fancy the tale had better close here," said St Clair. 
 stirring the embers of the fire with the toe of his boot. 
 
 "No; I am anxious to learn the sequel," I replied; "and 
 whether, in due course of time, you married Ruth, became the 
 father of a large and thriving family, and lived to a comfor- 
 table old age." 
 
192 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 " What, would you have me describe all the particulars of 
 my courtship? how I rode out daily on horseback with Ruth; 
 by what delicate little attentions I strove to win her love; 
 what romantic rambles we took about the charming shrub- 
 beries and park; what poets we quoted; how often we gazed 
 upon the moon and stars, and roved by the banks of the sleep- 
 ing lake ah, treacherous lake! what scenery we admired, 
 and what cottages we sought shelter in, when storms overtook 
 us; and how the major declared he could never consent to 
 part with Ruth ; and how averse he was to the idea of her go- 
 ing abroad little dreaming of the fate that awaited her at 
 home ? Alas, alas ! would you hear the melancholy sequel to 
 the story, and learn all my madness and misery ? AVould you 
 hear it, I say ? " 
 
 The tone in which these last words were uttered, and the 
 look of anguish that stole over the features of St Clair, to- 
 gether with the sudden and unexpected turn his narrative 
 had taken, gave me a great shock, and I could do nothing 
 but gaze on him in silence. He had thrown himself upon 
 his face, and his frame shook like that of a man in his last 
 agony. Presently he made a tremendous effort, and grew 
 calm. " You shall hear the sequel," he said, abruptly, " but 
 you will wish that I had kept it from you." 
 
 "Months rolled away. I had returned to Philadelphia, 
 and made a second voyage to England. I was to marry 
 Ruth. The squire had apologised to the major and myself, 
 and we were all on friendly terms. My wedding-day drew 
 near. The major was absent; he had business in London, 
 and was to be back on the morrow. There were visitors at 
 the Hall, and one of the party suggested that we should spend 
 the evening on the lake. I objected, but my objections were 
 overruled. I had a sort of presentiment that something 
 frightful was to happen, and could not muster my usual flow 
 of spirits. I proposed that we should make for shore, and got 
 much rallied for my cowardice. I had no apprehensions on 
 the score of my own safety ; I thought of others. Haughton 
 would have the sail hoisted; he boasted of his nautical skill, 
 
WHITT-LINGS FROM THE WEST. 193 
 
 and insisted upon making an exhibition of it. You can guess 
 the result of such rashness. He was a mere novice in matters 
 of this nature. A sudden puff of wind capsized the boat, arid 
 we were all precipitated into the water. I was the only one 
 who could swim, and rose immediately. I sought for Ruth 
 in vain. I dived wildly into the very depths of the lake, and 
 then, darting back to the surface, saw a hand stretched above 
 it. A white robe next caught my eye, and, seizing the ina- 
 nimate figure in my arms, I ploughed with it to land. It 
 was not Ruth. The servants in the Hall, alarmed by my 
 cries, had rushed down to the water's edge. Another boat 
 was quickly launched, and two more ladies were rescued, 
 but no Ruth. I plunged a third and a fourth time into the 
 fatal lake, and, in turning myself, got entangled among the 
 weeds, but broke them in the struggle, and was grappled by 
 Haughton Haughton, the cause of all my misery. With a 
 powerful effort I cast him off, but could not see a fellow-crea- 
 ture drown. I grasped his hair, and dragged him to the bank. 
 
 " Need I relate the rest. Two hours afterwards, the lifeless 
 body of Ruth was takeJi from its watery grave. Her dress 
 had been caught by the projecting branch of a hidden tree, 
 and all was over all vvas over. It was in vain that they 
 strove to tear me from' her side. I was little better than a 
 maniac. But the most dreadful scene was yet to come. We 
 had despatched grooms to meet the major, and acquaint him 
 with the black intelligence. He reached home by a different 
 route from the one expected, leaped joyously from his horse, 
 and came singing into the house. I encountered him as he 
 strode along the hall. My looks told the tale. A deathly dew 
 broke out upon his forehead. He rushed to the room in which 
 the corpse of his child lay, and fell like a dead man upon the floor. 
 
 " I am now a wanderer. The world has few attractions for 
 me; all my better feelings and hopes are in the cold grave 
 with Ruth. But I wish to learn resignation, and there are 
 times when I fancy that I have learned it; though the gloom 
 of my bereavement will again spread its shadows over my soul, 
 and bow me to the dust. Still, I have my moments of happi- 
 
194 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 ness ; there are breaks of blue in the clouds that have gathered 
 over me. How pure and how beautiful is the memory of an 
 early affection ! and how much more pure and holy, when she 
 who awakened it is with us on earth no more ! As we struggle 
 sadly onward over the desert of existence, and ever and anon 
 stay to look pensively back upon such scenes of our past love, 
 it is as though we paused to drink at some sunny fountain that 
 had often refreshed us in our youth, and been rendered sacred 
 tq our hearts by every gentle and pleasant association." 
 
 HEAP THE THIRTY-SECOND. 
 
 St Glair's narrative occupied the greater portion of the 
 night, Morning having at length broken, we rekindled the 
 fire, and went to pay our respects to the lady with the blue 
 veil. She declared that she had enjoyed an excellent night's 
 repose, though there was a something in her appearance, and 
 in the glance she bestowed upon St Clair, which convinced me 
 that she had in reality slept very little, and was in full posses- 
 sion of every particular of his history. 
 
 "At what hour may we expect the boat to pass?" asked I, 
 looking at my watch. 
 
 "If it passes at all," returned St Clair, "it will be towards 
 noon." 
 
 He had recovered his cheerfulness, and indeed appeared 
 to be enjoying even higher spirits than usual. 
 
 " If!" echoed the lady with the blue veil. " Is there any 
 prospect of do you mean that we may have to remain on this 
 island another night?" 
 
 " There certainly will be a boat to-day," said I, " and she 
 will most probably touch here." 
 
 The lady recovered her calmness, and St Clair proposed 
 that we should walk over the island, and see whether it har- 
 boured any living animal; for the pangs of hunger that we 
 were experiencing began to be almost unendurable. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 195 
 
 " A rat would be better than nothing," said he, taking a 
 long stick, and thrusting it up a hole that ran under the bank. 
 At the same instant one of the respectable class of vermin 
 named bounded from it, and leaped into the water. 
 
 " There are rabbits," cried I, pointing to a burrow, and other 
 indubitable symptoms of their proximity. 
 
 "Very good," replied St Clair; "have the goodness to take 
 a stout club, and guard that hole, while I probe the premises 
 with this stick." 
 
 I acted upon his suggestion, and we speedily bagged a 
 small grey rabbit; but it was evident that our success was the 
 result more of accident than of ingenuity, for a second and 
 third sally of the kind were productive of very different for- 
 tune. So we returned with the dead rabbit to our fire, and 
 cooked the dainty morsel with much expedition. The lady 
 with the blue veil, however, was prodigiously disgusted with 
 the whole proceeding, and appeared to be labouring under a 
 presentiment that we were bent upon palming some obscene 
 animal upon her. It was in vain -that we exhibited the rab- 
 bit's skin and tail; she remained unconvinced, and St Clair 
 and I were compelled to withdraw and discuss our repast in 
 private. 
 
 The Montreal boat eventually arrived; and great was the 
 astonishment of her captain and passengers, when they had 
 received us on board, and heard our tale. Face after face 
 was thrust down the cabin staircase; and an elderly lady with 
 feathers, three bilious-looking middle-aged gentlemen, and an 
 itinerant American clock-vender, were so smitten with admi- 
 ration of our adventure, that they sat themselves down pre- 
 cisely opposite us, and continued to stare at the lady with the 
 blue veil, St Clair, and myself, until we landed at Kingston. 
 
 The city of Kingston, viewed from the lake, has a very 
 striking appearance; but, when you have once entered it, all 
 that interest ends. St Clair and I, having surveyed the lions, 
 repaired to an hotel, and agreed to pass the evening together. 
 But what was our consternation upon discovering that we had 
 been robbed of our purses, and were comparative paupers ! 
 
196 WHITTLINGS FKOM THE WEST. 
 
 "Zounds!" cried St Clair, "I have a large sum of money in 
 that purse. Come, let us hold a council of war. The passen- 
 gers by this vessel may have been all thieves, for aught I 
 know; but let us bethink us whether there was among them 
 any individual in particular on whom our suspicions should 
 fall." 
 
 "I have it," said I; "the man with the clocks was present 
 when we paid our fare, and afterwards jostled us many times. 
 He sat between you and myself, too, at the tea-table. We 
 must track him. lie landed with us, and lurks, most probably, 
 in one of the inferior hotels in the neighbourhood. Shall we 
 separate, or hunt in couple? Perhaps it will be well if we 
 keep together." 
 
 " Take a pistol, then," said St Clair; " it is not loaded, but 
 the mere presentation of it, with the click of the lock, would 
 cause some men to quake." 
 
 For a long time our search was unsuccessful. At length, 
 on entering a low, disreputable-looking tavern, we found the 
 clock-maker sitting alone in a small room, and absolutely wet- 
 ting his fingers and counting over a roll of five-dollar notes, 
 which he had abstracted from one of the purses. He turned 
 pale, thrust the money into his bosom, and was on the eve of 
 shouting for assistance. 
 
 "Silence!" cried St Clair, cocking his pistol, and putting 
 it almost into the clockmaker's mouth ; " one syllable, and you 
 are a dead man. We wish no disturbance; come, deliver up." 
 It was to no purpose that the clockmaker protested his per- 
 fect innocence; I put my hand into his breast, and drew out 
 the missing property. Upon examination, it proved to be cor- 
 rect, and St Clair and I returned merrily to our quarters. 
 AVe passed the night and a portion of the next day together, 
 and then, shaking hands, parted with mutual professions of 
 sincere regret and eternal friendship. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 197 
 
 HEAP THE THIRTY-THIRD. 
 
 My readers (if I have any) will perhaps remember that I 
 had an engagement to spend a portion of the winter with a 
 young backwoodsman, named Twobears Ramsay, who had 
 pitched his wigwam in the wildernesses bordering upon the 
 banks of the river Madwaska. I knew nothing of the river 
 Madwaska except that it emptied itself into the Ottawa and 
 was compelled to apply for the necessary information respect- 
 ing my line of march to the landlord of the small hotel at which 
 I was staying. He was a respectably-dressed man, with a 
 grave, thinking countenance, and appeared to be in the habit 
 of weighing a matter well before he pronounced an opinion on 
 it. He was silent for some minutes, and then said, "You are 
 altogether wrong; you have no business here; you should have 
 gone up the Ottawa." 
 
 " But I was directed to proceed to Kingston, and on through 
 the bush." 
 
 "Yes?" 
 
 " Yes; can I not reach the Madwaska by this route?" 
 
 " Perhaps you may, if time is of no value." 
 
 " I have ten days to perform the journey in ; can it be done? " 
 
 " With my assistance, yes. Listen. I have business in 
 a small settlement a few miles from Perth, and intended to 
 wait till the snow set in; but it matters little, I will go now, 
 and drive you in my waggon. Can you keep a secret?" 
 
 " I will not betray one, at all events." 
 
 " But I must have your word of honour." 
 
 "Very well; I give it." 
 
 " I can trust you ; come with me." 
 
 He took me to a sort of barn, or coach-house, in his yard, 
 unlocked a pair of folding- doors, and pointed to a heap of 
 goods. 
 
 "I have to convey these to a place called Smith's Falls," 
 said Mr Knagg; " but there are lions in the way." 
 
 " Your wares are valuable, perhaps." 
 
 " Tea and dried apples." 
 
198 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 " Do you fear thieves?" 
 
 " Yes ; in the shape of excisemen." 
 
 "Oh! a smuggler, eh?" 
 
 "Hush!" 
 
 Mr Knagg gave a queer little laugh, almost as dry as his 
 apples; locked the folding- doors; and marched back with me 
 to the house. 
 
 "I shall be ready by the day after to-morrow," said he; 
 "will you?" 
 
 " Yes : I am ready at any moment." 
 
 " Remember, there is risk to be run." 
 
 " I go with you." 
 
 Early on the appointed morning, Mr Knagg and I mounted 
 the waggon, and took our departure. It was so dark that we 
 could scarcely see the horses before us, but the smuggler was 
 an excellent whip, and knew the road well. When I speak of 
 a road, I mean a corduroy road ; a sort of narrow lane, full of 
 ruts and holes, and flanked with interminable forest. Our 
 average rate of procedure was about five miles an hour, inclu- 
 sive of occasional calls at taverns, and stoppages in settlements 
 in which Mr Knagg had business to transact. It was not his 
 intention to go by the direct route to Smith's Falls, for there 
 were certain localities which he was anxious to avoid; our 
 real progress for the first two days, therefore, was by no means 
 considerable; but on the third evening of our journey Mr 
 Knagg's spirits rose, and we drew up at a dilapidated inn on 
 the borders of an extensive cedar-swamp. The host of this inn 
 appeared to be an old friend of the smuggler's, and the latter 
 invited him to take supper with us. The supper consisted of 
 bacon, poached eggs, buck-wheat cakes, savoury preserves, and 
 delicious honey. The landlord's wife waited on us, and several 
 pretty curly-headed children gambolled about the room. I 
 took one of them upon my knee, and soon ingratiated myself 
 with her by means of a slice of buck-wheat cake, spread with 
 honey. The father seemed to appreciate the attention, but I 
 could not win a smile from him. There was evidently a some- 
 thing weighing upon his mind. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 199 
 
 " Come, neighbour, cheer up," said Mr Knagg; " things will 
 mend shortly, please God." 
 
 " Never with me," replied the dismal rnan, shaking his head. 
 "I shall not look up again in this world." 
 
 " May I inquire the nature of your complaint?" said I, sup- 
 posing that the innkeeper laboured under some grievous bodily 
 infirmity. 
 
 "A lawyer, sir!" was the concise reply. 
 
 I begged an explanation, and the man told me the following 
 story : 
 
 " It is only lately that I have turned emigrant, and settled 
 in this quarter. In fact, I have not finally settled here; for 
 the cedar- swamp is a bad neighbour, and injures the healths of 
 my wife and children. I am an Englishman. My father was 
 a respectable farmer, and lived at a little village in Yorkshire. 
 He had a small estate, which at his death came to me. It was 
 a pretty place, and I was proud of it. The property was quite 
 unencumbered, and the title-deeds and papers belonging to it 
 were all in my own possession. But among my acquaintance 
 in the neighbourhood there was an attorney, who (I afterwards 
 discovered) got a livelihood by setting the villagers together by 
 the ears, and then undertaking the redress of their mutual 
 grievances. He had always been on friendly terms with my- 
 self, and I suspected no treachery. He was my wife's brother. 
 
 " One day he called on me, and asked if I would be so oblig- 
 ing as to let him look at the papers belonging to the estate, for 
 the commissioners of the roads (he said) were appropriating to 
 themselves some waste land, to which he thought I might lay 
 claim. I put the required documents into his hand, and he 
 told me in a pleasant way, that he would take them home with 
 him. He did so, and kept them a month. I then called for 
 them, but he was out. I called again, and saw him. I asked 
 for the deeds. He replied that he had scarcely completed the 
 perusal of them, and requested me to wait a week. I told him 
 I cared very little about the encroachments he had spoken of, 
 and would let matters remain as they were. Mr Dunmaney, 
 however, said, * No, no; he would see me righted;' and, one 
 
200 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 of his clients happening to come in at the moment, I was ob- 
 liged to leave the office. Another month elapsed. He had com- 
 menced an action against the commissioners of the roads. My 
 hair actually stood on end. I had never empowered him to 
 do anything of the kind. * Pooh pooh, my good fellow,' said 
 he, * we shall get a verdict in our favour, and make them pay 
 heavy damages.' Another month rolled away. He came to 
 me for money to carry on the action. I refused. He per- 
 sisted. I told him he had acted without my authority. High 
 words ensued, and I bade him quit iny house. He quitted it, 
 and I went to his office the next day. for my missing papers. 
 Mr Dunmaney said many things to irritate me, but I kept my 
 temper, as his clerk, Mr Pickings, was present, and I feared 
 lest any observations I might feel disposed to indulge in should 
 form the groundwork of a new action for defamation of charac- 
 ter. ' Give me my deeds,' cried I, 'and let me go.' * You wish 
 me to forbear all further proceedings on your behalf do you?' 
 asked the lawyer, taking a pinch of snuff, and offering the box 
 to Mr Pickings. * Of course I do/ was my answer; ' and you 
 know it.' * Very good,' returned Dunmaney; 'but you must 
 be aware that the expenses already ai'e considerable. I will 
 
 make out your bill, and ''Bill!' cried I; 'what bill?' 
 
 ' Oh! he asks what bill!' echoed Mr Dunmaney holding up 
 his hands, and turning to his clerk; Mie positively but this 
 is a client's gratitude.' Then, frowning and jerking himself 
 back with his face to me, he said, loudly, and with the air of 
 a man who had been much injured, 'You shall hear from me 
 shortly, sir, and, as I have a character and credit to maintain, 
 I would much rather that you put your affairs into the hands 
 of somebody else.' I was in a great rage, but held my tongue, 
 and left the office. I heard Mr Dunmaney and his clerk, 
 Mr Pickings, laugh loudly as I closed the outer door. The 
 dreadful bill came in. I have it now^-a hundred and thirty 
 and odd pounds, with an application for immediate payment. 
 I took it to the rector of the parish, who promised to see 
 Dunmaney and expostulate with him. Dunmaney heard 
 all he had got to say, and charged the good man thirteen 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 201 
 
 shillings and fourpence for the consultation-; which the latter 
 refused to pay. Dunmaney wrote to him respecting it, and 
 charged an additional five shillings for the letter. That did not 
 mend matters, and a second and a third letter were written, 
 and charged, till at length the expenses had amounted to two 
 guineas. The lawyer now served the poor parson with a copy 
 of a writ, and next with a notice of declaration, and finally with 
 an execution on his property. The afflicted rector then paid 
 something like fifteen or twenty guineas, to enjoy his peace of 
 mind again, and there his remonstrances ended. I did not get 
 off so easily. I owed a heavier sum than I was able to pay. I 
 had been rather unfortunate, too, that year with my crops, and 
 could not raise money upon them ; my only alternative, there- 
 fore, was to consent to a mortgage on my property. Dunmaney 
 had the deeds, and he must of course draw out the parchments; 
 while a friend of his a Mr Dunmore agreed to advance the 
 cash. Lawyer and mortgagee pulled together; the expenses 
 were increased tenfold;, my farm was encumbered beyond re- 
 demption; my embarrassments wer.e greater than I could ever 
 acquit myself of; by and by there was a foreclosure of mort- 
 gage; and I was a ruined man. I sold off the few articles of 
 furniture and farm-stock that yet remained to me, accepted 
 some offers that were held out by government, sought a refuge 
 in the wilderness and here I am!" 
 
 The innkeeper having concluded his story, he and Mr Knagg 
 fell into conversation, and I amused myself by examining the 
 pictures that decorated the walls. From my proximity to the 
 speakers, I could not help overhearing fragments of their dis- 
 course, which had reference to a place called Burritt's Hollow. 
 This Burritt's Hollow appeared to be a rather dangerous loca- 
 lity, of which Mr Knagg and his team would have to run the 
 gauntlet. There was also repeated allusion made to two men, 
 yclept Buff and Adair, but what part they were to play in the 
 adventure, of course remained a mystery to me. For the 
 better guidance of the smuggler, the innkeeper then drew out, 
 with the point of the snuffers, upon the deal table, a sketch of 
 the proper line of march, and the two friends consulted it with 
 
202 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 as much gravity as a general would his plan of operations on 
 the eve of some mighty battle. At length the conference came 
 to a close, and we all retired for the night Mr Knagg to a sort 
 of loft, in the upper regions of the hut, and my host, hostess, 
 their children, and myself, to the only dormitory the house 
 afforded, where grey-headed rats held noisy revel, and a myriad 
 of shrill- voiced crickets piped their nocturnal song. 
 
 HEAP THE THIRTY-FOURTH. 
 
 Mr Knagg roused me from my slumbers long ere daylight 
 had broken, and the team being got ready, we partook of a 
 hasty breakfast, and proceeded on our journey. We had not 
 progressed more than a mile, when one of the horses (our 
 leader) began to kick and plunge in so furious a manner, that 
 the waggon was nearly upset, and its contents thrown out into 
 the forest at our side. It was to no purpose that I alighted and 
 strove to pacify the enraged animal; the more I tried to soothe 
 him, the more refractory he became. At length the smuggler 
 himself leaped angrily down, and, taking the horse by the 
 bridle, shook him violently. The experiment did not improve 
 matters. Mr Knagg, then, as a last resource, caught the vicious 
 brute by the throat much as Samson must have seized the lion 
 and reduced him to the verge of suffocation. This summary 
 treatment cowed the spirit of the poor beast in a moment; he 
 became calm, and trotted quietly on as before; whereupon the 
 smuggler resumed his seat upon the waggon, and recovered his 
 good-humour, which had been much ruffled by the adventure. 
 At mid-day we paused for refreshment at an inn by the road- 
 side ; but Mr Knagg had no sooner dismounted and entered the 
 hut, than he reappeared, skipped lightly to his perch, seized the 
 reins, and drove away again at a canter. I asked no questions, 
 and he made no remark; but I suspected that he had met with 
 an unwelcome face among the company at the inn, and con- 
 sidered it prudent to push onward to his destination. About 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 203 
 
 "sundown" we stopped once more at a lonely little log-house, 
 and here the smuggler said he would pass the night. The oc- 
 cupants of the hut were in great trouble. The boss (as the 
 master is always termed) had caught a violent cold, and was 
 lying stretched out upon the flcor. His respiration was thick ; 
 he had violent pains all over his body, and was dying rapidly. 
 I asked his wife whether she had applied for medical assistance. 
 She shook her head, and replied that no such thing was to be 
 procured. She wrung her hands wildly, and rocked her body 
 mournfully to and fro as she spoke. I put my hand into my 
 pocket, and drew out my penknife. The smuggler noticed the 
 movement, read my intention, stripped up the settler's sleeve, 
 and got the man into a sitling posture. I had no great skill in 
 leech-craft, but I saw that unless the patient was bled at once, 
 he could not live till morning. I took hold of the bared arm 
 therefore, bade Mr Knagg tie it above the elbow, caused the 
 vein to develop itself, and made a bold puncture. The black 
 blood leaped out upon us, and in ten minutes the settler was 
 able to draw a long breath. He begged for something to drink. 
 I ordered his wife to make him a basin of tea. She had no tea. 
 I looked at Mr Knagg. It was the " cool o' the day " in his 
 heart, and the good Samaritan happened to be walking there. 
 The smuggler arose, and strode from the room. There were 
 sounds as of a hammer and chisel at work, and presently Mr 
 Knagg, re-appearing, filled the apron of the settler's wife with 
 tea, and hung three or four goodly strings of dried apples play- 
 fully around her neck. There was sunshine in the emigrant's 
 cottage that evening; and on the morrow, as I mounted the 
 waggon, I had the satisfaction of knowing that my patient was 
 in a fair way of recovery. 
 
 We had now crossed the townships of Longhborough and Bed- 
 ford, and were upon the banks of the river Rideau a stream 
 about twice the width of our Severn, at its broadest part. The 
 same night we arrived in the neighbourhood of the dangerous 
 Burritt's Hollow, and Mr Knagg's anxiety increased. He found 
 himself compelled to bait his horses at a moment when prudence 
 would have urged him onward and the delay bade fair to mar 
 
204 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 his plans, which had been laid with much skill and foresight. 
 Burritt's Hollow was the post of one of the excise-officers, who 
 had the reputation of being an exceedingly shrewd fellow, and 
 the terror of every smuggler that infested the bush. Mr Knagg 
 would have avoided so notorious a locality, but, as there was 
 only one available line of road through the district, he had to 
 sacrifice scruple to necessity. 
 
 We were approaching Burritt's Hollow. The grey light of 
 morning was just breaking upon the landscape. Mr Knagg 
 proceeded at a slow pace, "for," said he, "we may presently 
 have occasion to put our horses to their mettle, and must hus- 
 band their powers for the grand push." He had endeavoured 
 so to arrange matters that his team would pass the Hollow in 
 the dead of night, but the many detentions we had met with 
 had deranged his plans, and rendered the danger of detection 
 most imminent. When we had arrived within about two hun- 
 dred yards of the exciseman's hut, therefore, Mr Knagg re- 
 quested me to go forward and reconnoitre. The result was 
 favourable to the enterprise. The smuggler told me to mount 
 the waggon, and take the reins, while he walked by the side of 
 the team. 
 
 " The roads are soft," whispered he, " and the horses' hoofs 
 will make no noise; nor will the wheels, if all goes well. 
 Should the colonel hear us, however, and I give the alarm, put 
 the brutes to their speed ; never mind me I will follow." As 
 he ceased speaking, I heard a door slam, and a dog bark. I 
 checked the horses at once, and suffered a few minutes to 
 elapse. Mr Knagg then gave me the signal to proceed, and 
 we silently accomplished the dangerous pass. The road ran 
 almost close past the hut, but we kept in the shadow of the tall 
 pine-trees, and the recent rains had rendered the ground too 
 moist to admit of its yielding the slightest sound as the waggon 
 went over it. Had a wheel creaked, had a twig snapped, had 
 one of the horses sneezed, detection would have been inevitable, 
 and the load of tea and dried apples, as well as the vehicle and 
 team, would all have been confiscated. Fortunately for Mr 
 Knagg, no such disaster occurred, and, leaping to my side with 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 205 
 
 a chuckle, he returned a seven- oarrelled revolving pistol into 
 his capacious pocket. 
 
 We reached Smith's Falls soon afterwards, and the tea and 
 dried apples found a safe asylum. The consignee (one of the 
 principal storekeepers in the settlement) was a dapper, flaxen- 
 haired, good-humoured little man, and insisted on my taking 
 breakfast, and spending the day with him. Nor would his 
 friend Mr Kna<rg accept of any compensation for the service 
 he had rendered me. He shook my hand heartily when we 
 parted.; gave one of his little dry withered laughs, and asked 
 me to favour him with a call, should I return to Montreal by 
 way of Kingston arid Lake Ontario. 
 
 HEAP THE THIRTY-FIFTH, 
 
 It is not my intention to give a minute account of my jour- 
 ney through the wilds of Upper Canada. I shall present the 
 reader with a few pictures of bush-Fife on my return, and must 
 beg him to hurry on with me now into the backwoods, where, 
 he will perhaps remember, I had an appointment to meet my 
 semi- civilised friend, Tvvobears Ramsay, on the first evening 
 of the month of October. I had four days yet before me, but 
 there was a long tract of country lying between myself and 
 the spot of rendezvous. I was the whole of one of these days, 
 and a portion of the next night, in crossing the township of 
 Drummond; another day in crossing Lanark ; and a third in 
 riding over Darling, and reaching the village of Tompkinsville, 
 where, as I was in a state of extreme fatigue and exhaustion, 
 I resolved to spend the night. 
 
 The greater portion of the village of Tompkinsville had 
 been burned down the night before I entered it ; and with it, 
 they told me, most of the finest public buildings and hand- 
 somest private edifices. I shall not have occasion, therefore, 
 to descant at any length upon the architectural beauties of this 
 retired settlement ; if, however, the houses that had been con- 
 
206 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 sumed corresponded in any way with those few melancholy 
 habitations the flames had good-naturedly left standing, they 
 must have been piles of extraordinary magnificence and su- 
 blimity ! 
 
 The hotel (for such I suppose I must term it) at which, act- 
 ing upon a suggestion of my friend Twobears, I sought ac- 
 commodation, was called " The Forty Thieves ;" but whether 
 out of compliment to the select society of worthies that fre- 
 quented it, I cannot say. The building was constructed of 
 logs; and, depending from a rude post in front of it, there 
 swung, at a considerable elevation, a gigantic deal-board, upon 
 which some native limner, of a high walk in his profession, 
 had depicted thirty-eight yellow jars, into each of whose ca- 
 pacious mouths a dark lady, in tall pattens, and armed with 
 a blue watering-pot, was industriously engaged in pouring a 
 liberal supply of boiling oil, for the refreshment of the thirty- 
 eight amiably disposed brigands supposed to be ensconced 
 within. That every other arrangement, too, might be in strict 
 keeping with the title that distinguished this house of enter- 
 tainment for man and beast, the landlord of it (who was a fat, 
 grey-haired, jovial-faced, good-tempered old countryman) had, 
 by the choice spirits of the settlement, been nicknamed " AH 
 Baba ;" while upon his mother, a venerable lady of about ninety 
 year's of age and upwards, they had conferred the no less ro- 
 mantic sobriquet of " Morgiana" as she generally officiated in 
 the capacity of slave and barmaid. For Ali Baba I conceived 
 an instant regard, but for Morgiana I did not, as she was ever 
 to be observed scrambling up the halfpence that poured in 
 with a degree of gusto that was somewhat sickening, and 
 dwelling mournfully upon the demerits of her delinquent off- 
 spring Ali, whom she perpetually denounced as " A bad son, a 
 wicked son ; a bad, wicked son/' and so forth ; each of which 
 little soliloquial indulgences she invariably wound up by lock- 
 ing the cash-drawer cautiously, and depositing the key of it in 
 a mysterious pocket approachable solely by means to which 
 her own shrivelled fingers alone possessed the clue.- 
 
 An Englishman upon his travels through the bush must not 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 207 
 
 exhibit the same amount of sensitiveness and love of privacy 
 that would characterise his conduct at home. He must not 
 demand a private room in every hotel he stops at, and shut 
 himself up in it haughtily; for, should he display his impor- 
 tance in this manner, there would accrue not only a strong 
 probability of his being overlooked at meal times, but also of 
 his becoming a rather unpopular character among the company 
 into which he cannot avoid being occasionally thrown. He 
 must lay aside his consequence for the nonce, and not feel in- 
 sulted should he be called upon to shake hands with a blunt 
 honest farmer, and now and then even take his tea and toast 
 at the same table with a tailor, or a barber, or a shoemaker; 
 resting satisfied that there will always be something in the 
 conversation and character of such temporary associates that 
 will contribute to his amusement, and atone for the conde- 
 scension of which he has been so gracefully guilty. With these 
 views, then, I did not feel at all offended to hear the worthy 
 host of the Forty Thieves address me familiarly as " Boss" (a 
 title usualy conferred on a stranger till such time as his real 
 name drops out), nor to find myself partaking of a savoury 
 venison steak with a colossal blacksmith, attired in a leathern 
 apron ; a burly butcher, who had lost his wife in the con- 
 flagration of the previous night which calamity, I suppose, 
 accounted for his pausing at intervals to polish a prominent 
 feature with the tablecloth; and the settlement surgeon, who 
 did not patronise a fork, nor, apparently, either a hair or a 
 nail-brush, but who did patronise the venison liberally, though 
 he was so candid as to admit, in reply to an inquiry from All 
 Baba touching the merits of the dish r " that it would go much 
 better with jally fixing." 
 
 AH Baba figured no less conspicuously as a scholar, than 
 his politeness and urbanity destined him to shine as a host. 
 After having elicited my opinion relative to the amount of 
 talent exhibited in the delineation of the thirty-eight jars 
 upon the signboard, and the expressive countenance of the 
 lady who was administering the oil, he launched into a learned 
 dissertation on the fine arts generally, and inquired what I 
 
208 WHITTLINGS FEOM THE WEST. 
 
 thought of history viewed in the abstract. The question rather 
 embarrassed me, but I replied, that I considered it a very de- 
 lightful study, and did not envy the man whose tastes would 
 prohibit his indulgence in a similar sentiment; whereupon AH 
 Baba, with a flourish of his pipe, observed, " Nor do I envy 
 that man, sir. Would I wally his opinion? No. Would I 
 cultivate his acquaintance? I guess not. Look at Robinson 
 Crusoe there's a picter of private life." 
 
 " Ah, to be sure," said I, somewhat taken aback; "very true." 
 
 "And Cleopatter; have we a Cleopatter? find me a Cleo- 
 patter, will you." 
 
 I was about to repeat my former asseveration, but AH 
 Baba, holding up his hand to entreat my forbearance for a 
 moment, continued " Or a Sinbad the sailor; or a Crumwell; 
 or a Billy Pitt; or a one-eyed Calender. But," cried the 
 landlord, tapping my knee with the pipe-stem, and speaking 
 slowly and emphatically, "give me Alexander!" With the 
 delivery of this predilection for the illustrious hero in question, 
 AH Baba threw himself back in his chair, and relapsed into 
 one of his habitual chuckling fits, which was of a sufficient 
 violence and volume to rouse the slumbering Morgiana, who 
 muttered, "A bad son, a wicked son; a bad, wicked son;" 
 and fell to counting over the money in the till afresh. 
 
 The landlord of the Forty Thieves proved to be a friend of 
 Captain Ramsay's, and, it appeared, had pledged himself to 
 the son of that gentleman (when the young hunter was passing 
 through the settlement on his journey homeward) to furnish 
 me with the necessary instructions for the accomplishment of 
 the solitary enterprise I had in view. AH Baba discharged 
 himself honourably of this engagement; nor did his kindness 
 end here; he lent me his own choice steed for the expedition, 
 and offered to go some part of the distance with me. I felt, 
 however, that his good-nature had already been sufficiently 
 taxed, and assured him that the sketch of country he had 
 drawn for my guidance, was so explicit as to render it impos- 
 sible for me to miss my way. And I determined to commence 
 the strange pilgrimage early on the following morning. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 209 
 
 HEAP THE THIRTY-SIXTH. 
 
 The hour appointed for my departure from the village of 
 Tompkinsville having arrived, I would fain have acquitted my- 
 self of any little pecuniary responsibilities I might have incurred 
 during the period of my sojourn at the Forty Thieves; but Ali 
 Baba stoutly protested against receiving one cent of compensa- 
 tion from a friend of Captain Ramsay, and I was compelled to 
 return my purse into my pocket. During the landlord's ab- 
 sence, however (for he had gone to saddle the horse for me), 
 his mother Morgiana hobbled up, with straining eyeballs and 
 palpitating heart, and, clutching my arm nervously, implored 
 me, by all that I held dear, not to mind what her wicked son 
 said, and to give her money to give her money; so I put into 
 her hand the sum I deemed an adequate return for her hospi- 
 tality, and she locked it up hastily in the drawer, muttering, 
 "A bad son, a wicked son a bad, wicked son;" at the same 
 time thrusting the key of her treasqre-cofFer into the remote 
 and unaccountable pocket of which mention has been already 
 made. 
 
 The Caliph (for such was the name of the landlord's horse) 
 was a tall jet-black animal, with a rat-tail, and the most vicious 
 cast of countenance that can possibly be conceived. In reply 
 to my query whether he could go, Ali Baba, who was buckling 
 my knapsack to the front of the saddle, observed, that so far 
 from the Caliph manifesting any reluctance in that respect, the 
 only difficulty was in ever getting him to stop. My next query 
 was whether the brute had any particular vice worth mention- 
 ing an inquiry which raised a general laugh, for a great many 
 obliging people had congregated to see me off, and many others, 
 equally patronising, and actuated by a similar curiosity, were 
 looking on from windows. With some apprehensions for the 
 result of the measure, therefore, I slung my rifle hastily over 
 my shoulder, and sprang to the Caliph's back. He plunged 
 furiously, and, kicking a tall settler in the ribs, nearly killed 
 him on the spot. With this specimen of his graceful pleasantry 
 
 o 
 
210 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 of disposition, and light and easy play of limb, the Caliph 
 gnashed his teeth, rolled his eyes hideously, shook his head, 
 made a bite at the company generally, and bounded through 
 the settlement, and away into the distant forest depths, with 
 the velocity of a thunderbolt. 
 
 The Caliph was by no means an agreeable beast to bestride. 
 The first mile or two of the journey he performed quite to my 
 satisfaction, but the next he transacted solely upon his hind- 
 legs; then he made a sudden halt, and attempted to poise him- 
 self upon his two fore .ones a proceeding which embarrassed 
 me very much. Nor were even these the most unprepossessing 
 of his peculiarities; for, after every such eccentric achievement 
 in which it was his humour to indulge, he invariably turned 
 his head, and stared me full in the face, as though to inquire 
 what I thought of it, and note the effect it had upon me. 
 Finding, however, that I still maintained my seat, he shook 
 himself, and, running sideways against a tree, crushed my leg 
 painfully. I was now thoroughly roused, and, unslinging my 
 rifle quickly, brought the stock of it upon the Caliph's skull 
 with such smartness and eif'ect, that we both came down and 
 rolled upon the turf together. 
 
 Having reduced Ali Baba's notorious steed to a state of com- 
 parative subordination, I was able now to cast an occasional 
 glance over the face of the country. The district through 
 which I had to pass was one dense mass of forest, with here 
 and there a few hundred acres of clearing, and an attempt at a 
 settlement, consisting of some sixty to eighty log habitations, a 
 church, and a species of blockhouse, which in almost every in- 
 stance I found had been converted into a granary, or something 
 of a nature equally serviceable and pacific. Each of such 
 settlements derived its appellation from the surname of its 
 founder, but a "ville" was attached, to render the word more 
 sightly and melodious. I paused at the chief inn of one of 
 these unpretending little villages, and, the landlord having 
 come out to offer me any civility it was in his power to render, 
 inquired the place's name. 
 
 " Jacksonville," returned the proprietor of the inn, walking 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 211 
 
 leisurely up to the Caliph, and attempting to pat his neck; a 
 piece of familiarity of which the animal did not seern at all to 
 approve; his eye flashed like a flint, and his ears fell perfectly 
 flat upon his head. 
 
 "Jacksonville; and you are Mr Jackson, I presume?" 
 
 " Yes, siree." 
 
 "Have you been long resident here?" 
 
 " Twelve years and over." 
 
 " And how do you like bush-life ?" 
 
 " Oh, well enough; I'm used to it. I was sorter lonely once 
 when I cleared my first bit of land, but there's plenty of com- 
 pany now. I am satisfied." 
 
 " And would not return to the old country, if you had a free 
 passage offered you, and an independence to look forward to 
 when you got there is it so, Mr Jackson ?" 
 
 " Wai, yes; not out of any disrespect to the old country, God 
 bless it, but I have got through my hard work, and shall never 
 come to want. I mean to die here." 
 
 "I am sorry to perceive that you-have lost a leg; an acci- 
 dent, I presume?" 
 
 " Wai, yes," replied Mr Jackson, regarding his timber toe 
 with much complacency; "I chopped it off the first day I 
 squatted here ; but I've got along very well without it, and what 
 a man can do without, he can afford to part with, I take it." 
 
 "An excellent maxim, doubtless; but I am afraid you ap- 
 pear inclined to carry it to greater lengths than I should be 
 disposed to follow you to. You have had a misfortune, too, I 
 perceive, with one of your eyes." 
 
 " Wai, yes; I was blasting a pine stump a year or two back,, 
 and a splinter took it away what then ? I can see, can't I?" 
 
 This proposition being so unanswerable a one, I remained 
 silent, but continued to regard Mr Jackson with increasing 
 attention and interest. 
 
 " See here," cried the same gentleman, holding out his left 
 arm in a disparaging sort of manner, " what's the use of this 
 'ere limb to me ? I have got another, haven't I ? If it was 
 to go, I shouldn't grieve for it." 
 
212 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 At this juncture, my new acquaintance raised his hand to 
 his head, and commenced handling it in so peculiar a way, 
 that, fearful lest he should be about to inform me that he could 
 manage to dispense with that portion of his anatomy also, I, as 
 a pretext for changing the subject, asked him what the distance 
 was to Jenkinsville, the next settlement. He replied, " Twelve 
 miles; follow the concession line of road, and you'll be right 
 for it; but it's now sundown, and you must ride hard, if you 
 would not spend the night in the forest. What are you 
 doing? " 
 
 " Take this." 
 
 " Why ? I didn't ask you for anything, did I ? " 
 
 "No; that has nothing to do with it; my horse has drunk 
 at your trough." 
 
 " That's a fact; but he can't do without water, can he? " 
 
 " Decidedly not." 
 
 " And I can do without your money, can't I? " 
 
 Mr Jackson put his head on one side, and accompanied his 
 latter enigma with such an extraordinary look, that, not being 
 a match for him in argument, I shook his hand heartily over 
 the trough, and rode slowly away. 
 
 I had never met with a discontented settler. " It is evi- 
 dent," said I to myself, "that there is a living here for every- 
 body who is willing and able to work ; but that it is no place 
 for an idle man and a vagabond, is a no less conspicuous fact. 
 Here are all the necessaries of life, with none of its luxuries, 
 Land is to be purchased for such a mere trifle, that the most 
 poverty-stricken emigrant need not despair of ultimately be- 
 coming the possessor of a flourishing estate. He will have 
 hard work the first year or two, what with the process of 
 clearing it, and other necessary labours, but what of that ? If 
 he be a father, his sons must help him ; and, if he be a young 
 fellow, he must have a strong active brother or two to lend 
 him a hand now and then, and he will " get along" surpris- 
 ingly. The soil is remarkably fertile, and yields abundantly. 
 I have had patches of ground pointed out to me which have 
 borne three, and in some cases even four crops of wheat in 
 
WHITTLINGS FKOM THE WEST. 213 
 
 succession. Ther greatest enemies a farmer has to contend 
 with are the old stumps of the fallen trees, which cling to their 
 mother earth with such a tenacity, that ten, twelve, and often 
 fifteen years will elapse before they can be entirely eradicated. 
 They assume the most fantastic and impertinent of shapes, too, 
 and appear, in many instances, to be leering, and taking what 
 are vulgarly termed "sights" at settlers in general; as though 
 they would say, "Aha, you have cut off our heads, but you 
 couldn't get us out we are too- tight for that ; and we won't 
 budge an inch either, as long as we have a twig to wag at you, 
 or a claw to hold on by." 
 
 Mr Jackson's prophecy relative to the probabilities of night 
 overtaking me before I reached Jenkinsville, was fulfilled to 
 the letter. I missed my way in the darkness, and became so 
 entangled in the forest, that I began to fear all hopes of extri- 
 cation were at an end ; but it occurred to me, that if I could 
 procure a light, the compass I carried might help me out of 
 the dilemma ; so I tethered the Caliph to a tree, and sprink- 
 ling a few grains of powder upon ajieap of dry twigs, applied 
 the muzzle of my rifle to them, and pulled the trigger. 
 
 I had been guilty of bad generalship here. The dry twigs 
 blazed, and communicated with some parched leaves ; the 
 parched leaves communicated with the no less susceptible 
 branches above ; and the whale forest burst into flames. 
 There was a strong breeze, and my only chance of safety lay in 
 instant flight. I set the Caliph free, and, leaping hastily to 
 the saddle, endeavoured to urge him onward with the spur ; 
 but the sudden panic with which he was seized deprived him 
 of all power of motion. With the long tongues of flame lick- 
 ing me as I stood, I then passed my pocket-handkerchief 
 quickly under my horse's throat, and tied it over his bead, in 
 a manner that completely blindfolded him. This measure 
 proved an effective one, and after a long struggle, and much 
 plunging and kicking, suffocated with the smoke, and half 
 stunned by the falling fragments of charred timber, I got to 
 windward of the conflagration, which had now become general. 
 In this critical position of affairs, I was so fortunate as to hit 
 
214 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 once more upon the concession line of road ; on which the 
 Caliph had no sooner struck his gratified hoof, than, bounding 
 wildly through the midst of a herd of flying deer, and with the 
 fire roaring loudly in his wake, he dashed full gallop along the 
 rugged track before us, and trembling with terror, and drip- 
 ping with foam, bore me breathless into the narrow street of 
 the lonely little village of Jenkinsville. 
 
 HEAP THE THIRTY-SEVENTH. 
 
 Day having broken, I remounted, and pushed forward for 
 the rendezvous. The morning presented no new adventure, 
 but, towards noon, I heard the sound of voices in lamentation, 
 mixed with the most dismal shrieks, sobs, and groans. I rode 
 slowly on, and seeing a large concourse of people, concealed 
 myself among the foliage in a way which enabled me to over- 
 hear all that was going on. Hard by stood the stump of an 
 old decayed tree, and in that tree stood a tall, powerfully -built 
 man, with an open Bible in his hand, and his face streaming 
 with tears. He was a Millerite divine (the backwoods of 
 Canada are rife with such men), and was persuading the poor 
 fanatics around him that the world would come to a close 
 within thirty days from the period of his announcement. He 
 gave them to understand that he had received this revelation 
 direct from the lips of Deity; and advised every settler to 
 abandon the cultivation of his farm, with all concerns of this 
 mortal state, and prepare for the terrible consummation of 
 which he had already spoken. I listened with indignation to 
 this blasphemous harangue, and then, riding suddenly into the 
 very centre of the group, urged the deluded people, in a few 
 hurried words, to put no faith in what they had heard, and to 
 cultivate their farms as usual. The man in the tree retorted 
 with a volley of abuse, and called on several of his proselytes 
 to seize me, for I was that spirit of Antichrist which had 
 troubled the world so long. I clapped my hand upon a pistol, 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 215 
 
 gave the Caliph the spur, the crowd opened, and I resumed 
 my journey; but the false prophet continued to pour his curses 
 upon me, until the forest hid my figure from his sight. 
 
 The shades of evening falling once more over the silent 
 landscape, I was induced to abandon my original intention of 
 pushing on as far as a settlement termed Little Golgotha, and 
 convert the first hut or shanty I met with into sleeping quar- 
 ters for myself and horse. My disaster of the previous day 
 had shown me the folly of attempting to explore a path through 
 the solitudes after the sun had once set upon them, and I had 
 no sooner caught a glimpse of a log habitation, than I drew 
 rein and dismounted. The Caliph, who was quite exhausted 
 with the fatigues of the day's march, laid himself down imme- 
 diately, and rubbed the back of my hand with his nostril, as I 
 loosened the girths of the saddle. 
 
 " Oh for a lodge in some vast wilderness, some boundless 
 contiguity of shade," exclaimed the poet Cowper; and here 
 would have been the very spot for which he sighed. The hut 
 was one of the rudest and most awkwardly constructed I had 
 yet seen. It was small, but high, and in a very unfinished 
 state; there being no windows, and the roof not having yet 
 been closed in. The door hanging ajar, I knocked at it, and, 
 receiving no answer, entered. A corpse was the sole tenant of 
 the place. I took it for the prostrate form of a sleeping man, 
 and laid my hand upon his head, but found it cold as marble. 
 His features were scarcely distinguishable in the twilight; 
 still I could see that he was young, and had not been dead 
 long, for there was moist blood upon his brow. 
 
 From a hasty investigation of the hut and the premises 
 around, I came to the conclusion that it had originally two 
 occupants; one of whom the dead man had been killed by 
 the fall of a tree (for a stately pine lay near, and a brace of 
 axes beside it), while the other had fled to Little Golgotha, 
 either in consternation at the calamity that had overtaken his 
 friend, or for the purpose of procuring assistance from some of 
 the settlers resident there. Having satisfied my mind on this 
 point, I stretched myself across the threshold of the little log- 
 
216 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 house, and gazed upon the yellow moon as she rose majesti- 
 cally above the dark tree- tops. 
 
 Toward midnight, I was roused from my slumbers by a 
 loud and piercing shriek, which caused me to spring at once 
 to my feet, and glance involuntarily at the corpse of the ill- 
 fated settler, upon whose upturned face the moonbeams were 
 pouring their light in a broad silver shower. My next act 
 was to rush from the hut and look for the Caliph, who stood 
 straining at the bridle, enveloped in foam. The word "wolves !" 
 was so legibly depicted in his glistening eyeballs and expres- 
 sive face, that, without more ado, I severed the reins with one 
 gash of my knife, and threw open the shanty door. He lowered 
 his head, dashed eagerly in, put his nostrils to the dead man, 
 snorted, and reared back upon his haunches; while I fastened 
 the door, and blocked up the gap where the window should 
 have been. At the same moment the ravenous wolves, scent- 
 ing their prey, surrounded the hut, and thrust in their noses 
 at every chink the clumsily-hewn logs afforded them. With 
 the cowed Caliph, trembling in every limb, in one corner of 
 the shanty; the dead man, in his long and solemn sleep, in 
 another; myself and rifle in a third; and the bright and glar- 
 ing eyes of our bloodthirsty besiegers visible every now and 
 then through the insterstices of a fourth; I then prepared to 
 pass the few hours that had yet to elapse ere day could break 
 upon the forest. 
 
 Morning having dawned, I re-saddled the Caliph, and, after 
 securing the door, and fortifying the window of the hut, to 
 prevent the ingress of the wolves, shaped my course for Little 
 Golgotha. I recognised many spots that AH Baba had spoken 
 of, and at length came to the rocky gorge over which he had 
 stated that it would be necessary for me to make my horse 
 leap. A fierce cascade rushed through this gorge, and the 
 white foam wet my face as- 1 looked upon it. Quickening the 
 circulation of the Caliph's blood a little with the spur, and 
 reining him back to the bank in my rear, I shook the bridle, 
 he cleared the gulf at a bound, and in a few minutes I made 
 my debut in the village of Little Golgotha. 
 
WHITTLING^ FROM THE WEST. 217 
 
 The settlement of Little Golgotha was quite as primitive- 
 looking and lonely a one as I had conceived it to be, and my 
 arrival occasioned much surprise and speculation on the part 
 of its inhabitants. Drawing up at a comparatively neat log 
 habitation, with a flaring red roof and yellow door, I inquired 
 for the judge, coroner, and chief magistrate of the district; 
 which personage, on hearing that I was a friend of AH Baba's, 
 came hastily out and shook hands with me, but, in effecting 
 that act of hospitality, had a portion of his buckskin waistcoat 
 torn away by the teeth of the incorrigible Caliph, who, after 
 much coaxing and persuasion, was ultimately got under a shed 
 in the judge's back premises, and furnished with a dainty feed 
 of aromatic clover-grass and choice split beans. 
 
 My conjecture relative to the dead man whom I had dis- 
 covered in the forest proved to be well founded, and a small 
 party of settlers were just setting out with the intention of 
 bringing the body to the village. Having delivered myself 
 upon oath to my host, the judge, coroner, and chief magistrate 
 of Little Golgotha, of the few particulars I knew concerning 
 the matter, he committed my evidence in characters of im- 
 posing magnitude to paper ; and, after eliciting my opinion 
 on several orthographical points, and commenting on the 
 obvious absurdity of thrusting more consonants into a word 
 than its sound was calculated to justify, invited me to stay 
 dinner with him ? and, on my declining to do so, informed me 
 that there was a half-breed (semi-Indian) now hanging about 
 the settlement, who, he doubted not, would undertake to guide 
 me to that particular spot on the banks of the river Madvvaska, 
 near which Twobears had promised to await me with a canoe. 
 The countenance of the half-breed, whose name was Rattle- 
 snake, did not prepossess me in his favour. A more sinister 
 and repulsive-looking fellow I had never seen. His first act 
 was to filch my silver powder-flask, which I was obliged to 
 take forcibly from him ; his second to steal a bag of bullets, 
 and hide them in the leg of his- small -clothes ; and his third, 
 to get possession of my elegant little English rifle, and endea- 
 vour to elope with it. He was my superior in muscular 
 
218 >* WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 strength, but I contrived to twist the weapon from his gra?p, 
 and then, holding up my finger, cried, " Half-breed, listen." 
 
 " What does my brother say?" 
 
 " It is well that snakes rattle before they bite. You agreed 
 to take me to the river's fork. Perhaps you repent, and 
 would go back; then leave me, I have legs arid eyes; but, if 
 you are disposed to fulfil your engagement, and earn money, 
 lead on, I will follow ; and take care not to turn your face this 
 way, for it is ugly, and I will fire at it. You understand?" 
 
 "Hugh!" 
 
 " Very well, waste no more time." 
 
 This threat had the desired effect, and eight leagues of 
 laborious perambulation brought me to the intended rendez- 
 vous. Twobears was not there, however, nor were there any 
 symptoms of a party having encamped near the spot. I gazed 
 forlornly upon the old trees and silent river, then paid Rattle- 
 snake the stipulated three dollars, and bade him depart. He 
 coveted the rifle, and offered me his knife, tomahawk, and 
 some valuable skins for it. I shook my head, and he asked 
 me to let him fire the piece once before he went. I refused, 
 and held out a pocket-pistol for his acceptance. He snatched 
 it from my hand, and flung it indignantly upon the ground. 
 I cocked my rifle, and pointed in the direction whence we had 
 come. His fingers played round the handle of his tomahawk, 
 and he retired slowly, with his face towards myself. I hoped 
 to see him no more. 
 
 I had no axe, but I contrived to procure materials for a fire, 
 and sat down before it, hungry and desponding. The fero- 
 cious glance with which the half-breed had regarded me on 
 his departure almost led me to apprehend an attack from him 
 during the night, but the silent hours one by one rolled slowly 
 away, and their darkness and solemnity were accessory to no 
 deed of greater note, than the perpetration of the few follow- 
 ing lines, intended as memoranda of one of my solitary hunt- 
 ing rambles in the grand old woods bordering upon the shores 
 of the beautiful Lake St Charles: 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 219 
 
 'Twas the rudest of huts, and I said with a sigh, 
 
 Who can dwell in a region so lonely and wild 1 
 But I think of it now with a sorrowing eye, 
 
 For a grey -hair 'd old hunter lived there with his child. 
 
 " Now welcome; though simple our poor forest-fare, 
 And though humble our dwelling, no prouder is near; 
 
 For, young stranger, I know by the rifle you bear, 
 That night overtook you while chasing the deer." 
 
 How warm was the welcome ! how cheering its tone ! 
 
 And the look, pure and fresh as it sprung from the heart! 
 Sincerity hail'd them at once as her own, 
 
 And the gloom of my spirit began to depart. 
 
 Then brightly the pine logs blazed up on the hearth, 
 And we smiled when the howl of the wolves met our ear; 
 
 But softer emotions would sadden our mirth, 
 And when England was talk'd of, it was with a tear. 
 
 No curtains of damask encircled my head, 
 
 No dainty luxurious pillow was mine, 
 Yet I would not have barter'd my green sapin bed * 
 
 For the couch where the limbs of a monarch recline! 
 
 Sweet, sweet were my slumbers; in fancy I roved 
 Where in lighthearted childhood my steps used to stray; 
 
 And around me there throng'd many friends that I loved, 
 And knew in a bygone and happier day. 
 
 But morning drew near, when my rifle was grasp'd, 
 
 And I bade the old hunter and Ellen adieu; 
 Their hands for a moment I fervently clasp 'd, 
 
 And soon soon in the forest was hid from their view. 
 
 Mountains tower between us, seas scatter their foam, 
 Still I think on the hunter and Ellen with pain; 
 
 Ah, how many a wild weary league would I roam 
 But to gaze on her innocent beauty again! 
 
 HEAP THE THIRTY-EIGHTH. 
 
 Morning mid-day noon evening night and still no 
 Twobears. I began to fear that I must have misunderstood 
 him, and my long pilgrimage had been made to no purpose. 
 
 * The branches of the hemlock pine are termed " sapins." 
 
220 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 I was now, too, excessively hungry, for the small stock of 
 provisions I had brought with we from Little Golgotha was 
 exhausted, and the forest appeared to be altogether destitute 
 of those wild animals in which I had observed other localities 
 to abound. Daylight having once set in, however, I sallied 
 out a third time in quest of provender, and was again unsuc- 
 cessful. I then rekindled the fire, and, replacing myself dis- 
 consolately before it, lessened the circumference of my belt by 
 the space of at least three inches. 
 
 I had sat about an hour pondering thus, when I heard the 
 rustling of leaves, and, looking up, saw a large milk-white 
 rabbit limping through the forest towards me. I cocked 
 my rifle quickly, and levelled it at the strange object which 
 continued to approach, until at last I could have touched 
 it with the muzzle of my piece. It then paused, and, 
 fixing its pink eyes upon me, gazed long and plaintively into 
 my face. I was nearly fainting with hunger, but I felt that 
 it would be better to starve outright, than shed the blood of so 
 innocent and confiding a creature. Had I been a believer in 
 the doctrine of the soul's transmigration, I should have felt 
 strongly tempted to suppose that the spirit of some friend 
 whom I had loved dwelt in the form of the gentle thing beside 
 me, and came, like a good angel, to watch over my welfare, 
 and nerve me for the trials I had yet to undergo. 
 
 Another day passed, and still I had eaten nothing. The 
 next morning I saw the white rabbit again, but I turned from 
 it, and seizing my rifle with an air of desperation, walked 
 noiselessly once more through the wild, in the hope of meeting 
 with a squirrel, or a rat, or at all events one of those diminu- 
 tive animals termed "chitmunks," which are about a span in 
 length, and burrow in the hollows of the old forest-trees. 
 This search, like all my others, proved fruitless, and, wander- 
 ing back to the fire, I endeavoured to appease my hunger by 
 chewing the juicy leaves of a plant that grew at the foot of an 
 adjacent pine. Shortly afterwards, I experienced a burning 
 sensation in the throat, and my limbs began to tremble vio- 
 lently. I sprang to my feet, but my head became dizzy, and 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 221 
 
 I was compelled to resume my former position near the fire. 
 The fit lasted about five minutes, but the effects of it did not 
 so soon pass away. I now gave up all hope of seeing anything 
 more of the young hunter Twobears, and, shouldering my 
 knapsack and rifle, strode sadly through the forest, with the 
 intention of returning to Little Golgotha. 
 
 I had looked forward with much satisfaction to my contem- 
 plated sojourn in the backwoods, and was proportionately piqued 
 to find all such pleasing anticipations end but in vexation and 
 disappointment. I retraced three leagues of my journey the 
 same afternoon, and then, lighting a large fire, and throwing 
 myself recklessly beside it, fell asleep. I dreamed that some 
 brigands had invited me to a most delicate banquet; but the 
 moment I attempted to partake of it, every one of them leaped 
 with a yell upon the board, discharged his carabine at my head, 
 and together with the dainties melted into air. 
 
 I was about to resume my journey, when the sharp crack of 
 a rifle fell upon my ears, a wounded buck dashed fiercely across 
 my path, I caught the sound of voices, and glancing hopefully 
 back through a break in the foliage, caught a glimpse of two 
 figures, one of which I had no difficulty in recognising as that 
 of the young hunter Twobears Ramsay. He ran eagerly for- 
 ward, seized my extended hand, wrung it warmly, and intro- 
 duced the stranger to me as his friend Tom Fling, of trapper 
 notoriety. Twobears then recoiled a pace or two, gazed at me 
 with a serious air, and asked if I were ill. I told him that I 
 had eaten nothing for more than three days, on hearing which, 
 the handsome and gentlemanly Tom Fling opened his haver- 
 sack, produced a strip of dried venison, picked some touchwood 
 from a decayed tree, fired it with his rifle, flung a heap of 
 twigs upon it, and throwing himself flat upon the turf, began 
 to blow them into a flame. The strip of venison was soon 
 cooked, and I thought the portion of it that fell to my share 
 one of the most savoury and delicious morsels I had ever 
 tasted. 
 
 " We have been on your trail ever since yesterday after- 
 noon," said Twobears, handing me a flask of choice liqueur; 
 
222 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 " we saw the traces of your first fire on the bank by the river's 
 fork, and suspected that you had grown disheartened, and. 
 set out for Little Golgotha. If you are not too weary to pro- 
 ceed at once, I should like to reach the Madwaska again 
 to-night; I have a great deal to tell you, and we can talk as 
 we go." 
 
 I expressed myself ready to start immediately, and Tom 
 Fling offered to act as pioneer. 
 
 " You may take your farewell of the civilised world," said 
 the hunter, waving his hand in the direction of the settlements. 
 " Between ourselves and the pole, stretches one vast unpeopled 
 wilderness, in the whole of which, with the exception, perhaps, 
 of our own, and that of a troublesome neighbour, you would 
 not find a solitary human habitation. But, before I speak of 
 other matters, let me render you a brief account of the circum- 
 stances that detained me at home, and caused me to break the 
 appointment I made to meet you here several days ago. My 
 father, the captain of whom you have heard me speak, has re- 
 sided in his wooden fortress yonder for more than twenty years. 
 For the first eighteen of those years, no man, saving himself, 
 ever set foot near the, spot of his retreat, but at length, by some 
 mischance, the form of a stranger darkened our door, and that 
 stranger, after having been hospitably entertained, repaid my 
 father's kindness by threatening to pitch his wigwam close to 
 our own. This man, we afterwards learned, was a notorious 
 highwayman, who had turned king's evidence against his ac- 
 complices, escaped the hands of justice, fled from England, and 
 was now seeking refuge in the wilds of America. His name 
 was Abraham Thorn. The captain replied that the forest 
 was wide, begged him to re-consider his intentions, and hinted 
 that the lands on which he gazed were already appropriated. 
 In another week, the ring of an axe was heard through the 
 woods, and a log-hut was erected within about rifle-shot of the 
 castle. This was a direct violation of all principle and cour- 
 tesy, and the captain remonstrated. In vain. Abraham built 
 his house, and brought his wife and sons to dwell in it. The 
 squatter's real character soon developed itself. He was an 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 223 
 
 overbearing, insolent fellow, and, being a fool to boot, the 
 secret of his heart escaped him. He had not only figured as a 
 highwayman, he had committed murder. Abraham regretted 
 the indiscretion that had led to this avowal, and in a fit of pas- 
 sion endeavoured to obliterate all evidence of his crime by as- 
 sassinating my father. The attempt failed, and we are in open 
 hostility in consequence. The squatter has four sons, so that 
 the enemy muster five in all. We are five also. How the 
 struggle is to terminate I know not; and, while things were at 
 this pass you cannot wonder that I was loath to leave home. 
 My friend here and myself were obliged to steal away under 
 cover of the night, lest Abraham, knowing that we were about 
 to leave the Improvement, should plan a surprise upon the 
 castle during our absence. He is a bold villain, and his boys 
 have an effrontery and reckless bull- dog courage, which render 
 them rather formidable. My father has always acted upon the 
 defensive, never upon the aggressive, and this forbearance on 
 our part has made them only the more exacting and impudent. 
 Among the squatter's sons, too, theje is one they term Sapins, 
 a hunchback, half-knave, half-idiot, who, a few mornings since, 
 killed two of our sheep, attempted to hamstring one of our 
 horses, and afterwards, levelling his rifle at myself, as I was 
 in the act of running to the rescue, wounded me in the arm. 
 Fling and I rushed out, seized him by the throat, and, dragging 
 the young giant within the palisades, cowhided him severely. 
 Abraham has sworn to wash out this insult with my blood; and 
 such is precisely the awkward state of affairs at the present 
 hour in my father's Improvement." 
 
 " A Tomahawk Improvement," remarked Tom Fling, noting 
 the look of inquiry my features assumed, "is this: A is a gen- 
 tleman who wishes to squat which means, to appropriate to 
 himself a few hundred acres of uncleared land. He accord- 
 ingly searches for a convenient spot near a watercourse, and, 
 having found one to his mind, * girdles' a dozen or so of the 
 larger trees, and, felling a considerable number of the smaller 
 ones, marks out the boundaries of his newly-acquired posses- 
 sion. That done, he leaves it, to see if he can better his 
 
224 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 choice. If he can, welb if not, he returns; and for that 
 reason the place he fixes upon is termed a Tomahawk Im- 
 provement." 
 
 "And in the event," said Twobears, "of B having stepped 
 forward in the interim, and taken a fancy to the estate." 
 
 " Then A can plead a prior claim to it, and exhibit the 
 girdled trees as his title-deeds." 
 
 " Was there not an instance of the kind," inquired Two- 
 bears, "some years since down at Little Golgotha?" 
 
 " Yes, you are right ; I recollect the circumstance," said 
 Fling. 
 
 " And let me see. In that case A was a capital shot, I think ; 
 and, by the by, what became of B ?" 
 
 " He died suddenly, I believe," replied the trapper, pausing 
 a moment to brain a large water-rat with the butt end of his 
 rifle. 
 
 With such conversation did the two young backwoodsmen 
 and myself while the time away, until we reached the Mad- 
 waska ; then Twobears lighted a fire, Tom Fling cooked another 
 strip of dried venison, and, having each partaken of it, we pil- 
 lowed our heads upon the palms of our clasped hands, and 
 sought refreshment in sleep. 
 
 My digestive organs were so impaired by the severe priva- 
 tions they had undergone, that I enjoyed but little repose. The 
 trapper was equally restless, and begged me to indulge him 
 with an outline of my adventures since I had parted with Two- 
 bears at the Falls of La Chaudiere. In return, he recounted, 
 some of his own hairbreadth 'scapes in the neighbourhood ot 
 the Rocky Mountains, and spoke of many a bygone prairie 
 sport, with the air of a man whose heart was still among them 
 And I believe it was one of his graphic descriptions that sug- 
 gested the following lines: 
 
 for a gallop, on a coal-blaok steed, 
 
 Along the rolling prairie, free and far ! 
 to be borne away with breathless speed, 
 
 Swift as the lightning- leap, or shooting star. 
 for a glimpse of the big buffalo ! 
 
 The reckless scamper of the rushing herd 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 225 
 
 The thundering hoofs the eyes that gleam and glow, 
 
 And speak his terror, or his fury stirr'd 
 The ringing shot the death and then at night, 
 
 The camp-fire and the group the song the tale 
 The stillness and the dying embers' fitful light 
 
 The watch the sliding moonbeams pure and pale 
 The silent stars, that look down from above, 
 And bring sweet thoughts of home and those we love ! 
 
 HEAP THE THIRTY-Is T INTH. 
 
 It was a bright and beautiful autumnal evening. The ma- 
 jestic sun that over the stilly solitude, untrod by mortal foot, 
 sheds an effulgence no less divine than upon the princely palace 
 and the peopled city was just sinking behind a high ridge of 
 distant forest, and the whole wide landscape looked as though 
 it had but freshly sprung from a sea^of molten gold. We had 
 arrived within about two hundred yards of Captain Ramsay's 
 Improvement. Here Twobears and the trapper suspended 
 their labours with the paddle, and began to consult upon the 
 plan of procedure it would be expedient for them to pursue, as 
 in another moment the canoe would double a little rocky pro- 
 montory, and expose us to the gaze of the squatter and his sons, 
 whose rifles might occasion our party considerable annoyance. 
 I suggested that, as Twobears wished to keep our arrival a 
 secret, we should effect a landing upon the opposite bank, ad- 
 vance upwards under cover of the trees, and then re- cross the 
 river at about pistol-shot distance above the Improvement, by 
 which arrangement all possibility of detection would be avoided. 
 Tom Fling, however, shook his head, and, telling me that we 
 should have a formidable ravine to cross, as well as other diffi- 
 culties to encounter of which I had at present no conception, 
 said we had better wait for night; while Twobears, averse to 
 such delay, proposed that we should deck the canoe with a pro- 
 fusion of hemlock and maple boughs, which, being of the same 
 
 p 
 
226 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 colour as the green shore in the background, would enable us 
 to pass unobserved. The measure being pronounced a politic 
 one, we stepped into the forest for the purpose of providing 
 ourselves with the necessary costume for this novel masquerade, 
 and, at the instigation of the trapper, extended our walk as far 
 as the margin of the clearing, with the view of reconnoitring 
 the surrounding premises. 
 
 "The scoundrels!" exclaimed the impetuous Twobears, 
 peering stealthily out from behind a stout hemlock, and speak- 
 ing with an energy not altogether prudent on an occasion like 
 the present; "they have fired the barn." 
 
 Following the direction indicated by the finger of the young 
 hunter, I bent a furtive glance over the clearing, and observed, 
 on the one hand, contiguous to a heap of smoking ruins, and 
 encircled by a strong wooden palisading, a neat, square-built, 
 soldier-like log habitation, with the Union Jack of Old England 
 (rather torn and disfigured) floating proudly from its summit; 
 and, on the other hand, a rudely-constructed, single-storeyed 
 hut, of most uncompromising appearance, and flanked by nothing 
 but an unsightly snake-fence. The former, I was given to 
 understand, was the abode of Captain Ramsay ; and the latter, 
 that of Abraham Thorn, of " Newgate Calendar" celebrity. 
 There was nobody visible in or near the dwelling of the high- 
 wayman; but, from a kind of loophole or window in the other, 
 I saw a black head suddenly thrust; the presentation of which 
 was instantaneously succeeded by the report of two rifles. Again 
 the black visage appeared, illuminated by a broad grin, which 
 exposed two tiers of great shining teeth. It was some minutes 
 ere Tom Fling and the young backwoodsman recovered from 
 the fit of merriment into which this novel exhibition had 
 plunged them, but, when they had at length done so, and could 
 muster gravity for the occasion, they informed me that the 
 black head and white teeth were the property of Captain Ram- 
 say's negro cook and valet, Mr Poll Crake, who had a skull 
 quite impervious, or, as Mr Crake himself more correctly ex- 
 pressed it, " superfluous to de rifle-bullet, sar" a consolatory 
 reflection, which frequently induced that gentleman to pre- 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 227 
 
 sent it for the tantalisation of the squatter's sons, and the re- 
 sultant perquisite of the flattened balls, which did to melt up 
 again. 
 
 With the canoe enveloped in a number of cool and freshly- 
 lopped maple and butternut boughs, we launched once more, 
 and, hugging the shore as closely as possible, had arrived within 
 twenty yards of our destination, when the sharp crack of a rifle 
 was again heard, and a brace of bullets, with a buzz like that 
 of two angry wild bees on the wing, whizzed close past my ear. 
 " It's that villain Sapins," muttered Tom Fling, making a 
 series of desperate efforts with his paddle. A few seconds only 
 had elapsed, when another volley whistled through the canoe, 
 and struck the pine-blade from the hand of the incensed Two- 
 bears. The next minute the forest interposed its friendly shelter 
 between ourselves and the quick eye of the hunchback, and we 
 all three leaped joyfully to land. 
 
 "Welcome to Butternut!" cried Captain Ramsay, advanc- 
 ing with hand frankly extended. He was a tall, handsome, 
 muscular-looking, soldier-like man, with a keen blue eye, crisp 
 grey hair, and the pleasantest expression of countenance ima- 
 ginable. There were one or two deep scars upon his brow and 
 cheek, but they were no disfigurement, and withal so in keep- 
 ing with his whole air and appearance, that one could scarcely 
 have wished them away. "Welcome to Butternut Castle!" 
 cried he, and in so agreeable a tone of voice, that, instead of 
 viewing him in the light of a new acquaintance, I felt as though 
 we were old friends, whom destiny had for a time separated, 
 and at length brought together once more. 
 
 " This is Nickstick," the Blackfoot chief I spoke of," said 
 Twobears, as a magnificent young Indian joined the group. 
 Nickstick laid the palm of my hand on his breast, inclined his 
 head slightly, and said in broken English, that he should be 
 glad to have big talk with me, here and there, about his friends 
 the pale-faces, and would thank me to teach him as much as I 
 could of their palaver. The Blackfoot was about my own height 
 (five feet ten inches), and attired in a sort of undress blue mili- 
 tary surtout, confined at the waist by a red silk sash, fringed 
 
228 WHITTLINGS FKOM THE WEST. 
 
 with beads. A coloured handkerchief was bound picturesquely 
 about his brow, and above it towered a heap of black shining 
 hair, which grew perpendicularly from his crown, and streamed 
 back again over it like the plume of a hussar. 
 
 From the striking figure of the chief my glance roved to that 
 of a gigantic negro, who, with his eyebrows strangely elevated, 
 his glistening features distended into a broad grin, and his white 
 teeth all developed, stood leaning against a cedar-tree hard by, 
 contemplating the ceremony of introduction. 
 
 " That is Napoleon Crake," said Captain Ramsay, turning 
 round; "a very old and trusty follower of mine indeed, one 
 
 of the most faithful fellows that ever Come hither, Poll ! " 
 
 But the eulogium was cut short by the sudden disappearance of 
 the subject of it, who, having been quite overcome by so affect- 
 ing an appeal to his sensibilities, sobbed sonorously, shed several 
 enormous tears, and retreated quickly within the palisades. 
 Captain Ramsay then led the way into the castle, and intro- 
 duced me to his daughter, the beautiful Hummingbird. The 
 rich blood that illuminated her cheek was like the bloom upon 
 an apricot, and she arose from the wolfskin-covered settee upon 
 which she had been reclining, with an unaffected dignity and 
 easy grace that would have become the most elegant and refined 
 princess. The warm greeting that afterwards took place be- 
 tween her and the trapper, accounted, to me in the most satis- 
 factory manner for the strong anxiety the latter had all the day 
 exhibited to reach Ramsay Improvement. 
 
 The log-house, or castle, as it may more properly be termed, 
 of Captain Ramsay, was precisely the description of edifice 
 that my ever-busy fancy had pictured to me. It occupied the 
 centre of a circular and almost impregnable wooden palisading; 
 consisted of two storeys, and was capped by a species of watch- 
 tower or observatory, only accessible by means of a ladder, which, 
 pulled up, instantly cut off all communication with the premises 
 below. Into this observatory, which had its sides pierced for 
 musketry, and was provided with four secret ports or embra- 
 sures, of a size sufficient to admit the muzzle of a small carro- 
 nade, the captain, closely pursued by Tom Fling, Humming- 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 229 
 
 bird, Nickstick, Tvvobears, and Poll Crake, presently con- 
 ducted me. 
 
 " I see," cried Captain Ramsay, following the course of my 
 eye, in its contemplation of the various arrangements alluded 
 to, and tapping the breech of the carronade with the toe of his 
 mocassin " I see that such precautionary measures as these 
 rather astonish you; but you will cease to wonder, when I 
 state that it is my intention to spend the remainder of my 
 days here. In the event, therefore, of a war breaking out 
 between England and the United States (a thing by no means 
 improbable), and of the Americans getting possession of the 
 Canadas (the possibility of which I greatly doubt), or of Canada 
 revolting against the mother country (which God forbid!), my 
 position would require strengthening. At all events, I con- 
 sider it but prudent to secure myself against surprise ; and you 
 will readily conceive that, if circumstances should warrant it, 
 I could occasion a small storming party no contemptible amount 
 of annoyance and trouble." As the last word left the lip of 
 Captain Ramsay, the report of firearms was heard, and a 
 bullet, entering through a loophole, perforated the opposite 
 side of the building. 
 
 "It is that villain hunchback!" cried Fling; "I saw him 
 a moment since behind yonder tree." The Blackfoot chief 
 extracted the bullet from the log, examined it attentively, and 
 nodded his head. Captain Ramsay said nothing, but beckoned 
 to Poll Crake, and went below; whither Twobears, the Indian, 
 and myself, followed him leaving the enamoured Tom Fling 
 to point out some newly-discovered peculiarity in the structure 
 of the carronade to the attentive Hummingbird, whose splendid 
 dark eyes, flashing their dangerous beams down full upon the 
 primed touchhole of the loaded piece, would have induced any 
 one but an abstracted trapper to apprehend an awkward dis- 
 aster as the inevitable result. 
 
 On returning below, we found Captain Ramsay and his 
 faithful black servant engaged in earnest consultation. The 
 former explained to us that he had been plotting the capture 
 of the hunchback. It was to be effected in the manner follow- 
 
230 WH1TTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 ing. Sapins and his brothers were in the habit of setting wolf- 
 traps every night in various parts of the surrounding forest. 
 As soon as darkness should render the experiment safe, there- 
 fore, Poll Crake was to imitate the melancholy cry one of 
 these animals usually makes when he finds himself ensnared, 
 and by this means seduce the sons of the squatter from their 
 hut. The negro was then to watch his opportunity, spring 
 upon the unsuspecting Sapins, and, with the assistance of Two- 
 bears and Nickstick, convey him to the castle. Mr Crake 
 appeared to be eagerly anticipating the part he was to play in 
 the business, and retired from the room gleaming from head 
 to foot with broad grins. 
 
 The proper moment having arrived, Captain Ramsay, fol- 
 lowed by the whole of his staff, sallied noiselessly through the 
 palisades, and stole to a clump of cedars within fifty yards of 
 the abode of the squatter. We had suffered the moon to hide 
 herself behind a cloud, and, as an additional precaution, made 
 a complete circuit of the Improvement. The ruse succeeded; 
 we heard the door of Abraham Thorn's hut open, and saw the 
 outlines of two tall figures upon the sky. The first of these 
 figures was allowed to pass us, but around the second the long 
 bony arms of the negro coiled themselves, and the treacherous 
 Sapins (who, instead of the dwarf I had supposed him to be, 
 was a powerful man of at least six feet in height) was a prisoner. 
 Before he had time to cry for assistance, a gag was forced into 
 his mouth, his arms were pinioned, his legs tied, and without a 
 sound or a struggle he was borne quickly away to the strong 
 quarters prepared for his reception. 
 
 " Come now/' said the smiling captain, as we re-entered his 
 forest fastness, and he motioned me to a seat beside him upon 
 the wolfskin-covered settee, " what do you think of Ramsay's 
 Improvement?" 
 
 " When I gaze around me," returned I, " upon the mys- 
 terious accumulation of comforts your sylvan abode can boast, 
 and the air of nicety and elegance that pervades its every 
 arrangement, I feel rather inclined to regard you as a second 
 Aladdin, who need merely rub a lamp, or press a ring, to 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 231 
 
 insure the gratification of his slightest wish. Yours must be 
 a slave of some taste, too, or you would never have become the 
 possessor of an instrument like this." 
 
 " And that," replied the captain, running his fingers gaily 
 over the keys of the fine pianoforte to which I had drawn his 
 attention, " has been the source of more trouble and annoyance 
 to me than can easily be explained. Like the Aladdin you 
 speak of, who could not bring himself to consider his castle 
 complete until it was able to boast of the majestic egg the 
 wily magician had recommended him to procure, / could not 
 look upon mine as perfect in the absence of that which, like 
 some angel visitant from a better world, can whisper to my 
 soul of joys that are long passed away, and friends whose 
 faces I shall gaze upon on earth no more. But the labour we 
 had in getting it (as well as the carronade) up here was a her- 
 culean one, as we were obliged to construct a canoe expressly 
 for the occasion, and despatch the instrument in it piecemeal; 
 and even now it is not entire, for the original legs were in- 
 trusted to the care of a vagabond half-breed at Little Golgotha, 
 who took such a particular fancy to them, and became so ena- 
 moured of the castors, that neither he nor they have been 
 heard of since. As for the carronade, it found its way through 
 the canoe, and lay at the bottom of the river till Poll Crake, 
 who is a good diver, managed to get a rope round the trunions, 
 and pull it ashore." Here the conversation was interrupted by 
 the entrance of Mr Crake himself, who came provided with a 
 species of dark lantern, by way of intimating his readiness to 
 conduct me to my chamber. And in this pleasant and sociable 
 manner passed the first evening of my sojourn at Butternut 
 Castle. 
 
 HEAP THE FORTIETH. 
 
 Early the next morning, Nickstick invited me to acccom- 
 pany him into the forest, and, leaning our rifles against a tree, 
 we sat down to enjoy a little of that big talk in which he had 
 
232 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 expressed himself so anxious to indulge. The conversation 
 turning upon England and the pale-faces, with the view of 
 imparting to him some slight notion of the comparative sizes of 
 the two countries, I sketched out with my ramrod upon the 
 ground a rude representation of the vast continent of America, 
 and beside it placed another of the diminutive island regarding 
 which he had manifested so much curiosity. The chief nodded 
 his plume in reply, and drily observed that he had always sup- 
 posed the hunting-grounds of the white people to be small, or 
 he should have seen something of them from the tops of his 
 native mountains. He inquired how many notches on a stick 
 its warriors would number? I pointed to the leaves of the 
 trees above and around us. Pie made a gesture of surprise; 
 and asked whether none of them ever tumbled over the edge? 
 On my shaking my head, however, and assuring him that there 
 was room for them all, and to spare, he rose to his feet, ap- 
 peared absorbed in thought for a moment, and said, " At all 
 events, then, they must jostle each other very much." 
 
 "Yonder look yonder!" cried Tvvobears, pushing his way 
 through the tamarack branches. "There is sorrow in store: 
 a cloud of that shape never hangs over the Improvement but 
 it portends trouble to our house. Come, they are setting up a 
 target for us, and we shall now have an opportunity of testing 
 the merits of that English rifle of yours." 
 
 The target to which Twobears made allusion was being 
 erected at a distance of about ninety yards from the palisades. 
 Hummingbird, with a scarlet mantilla thrown negligently over 
 her graceful person, had come out to witness the sport. Cap- 
 tain Ramsay had stationed Napoleon Crake in the watch-tower, 
 with orders how to act, in case his interference should be re- 
 quired; and now requested his little army of sharpshooters so 
 to arrange matters, that four of our rifles would be ready for 
 instant service in the event of any sudden development on the 
 part of the squatter and his sons. With this proper precau- 
 tion, Captain Ramsay took his station, and lodged his ounce 
 of lead within half an inch of the upper edge of the bull's-eye. 
 
 "Too much powder," cried he, shaking his head, and promptly 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 233 
 
 re-loading; "you will beat that, Blackfoot, or you are no red- 
 skin." 
 
 The Indian, without any apparent effort, planted his ball 
 almost upon that of the captain. I succeeded him, and the 
 three bullets formed one dark patch upon the board. 
 
 "Close shaving!" cried Captain Ramsay, approvingly, and 
 with an uneasy glance in the direction of the squatter's hut. 
 " Step out, Twobears." 
 
 " The best shot yet/' exclaimed the delighted veteran, as 
 the bullet of the young hunter passed through the bull's-eye, a 
 little to the left of its centre. " Now Fling, you have the odds 
 against you." 
 
 The rifle of Tom Fling was levelled at the target; lowered; 
 raised again; there was a certain nervous twitching of the 
 muscles of his mouth, and a certain curious quaking of the five 
 lingers extended along the barrel of his piece, not at all becom- 
 ing in a trapper; another moment, and a black speck was visible 
 on the white bull's-eye upon the opposite side to the one the 
 ball of Twobears had pierced. The two competitors, there- 
 fore, ranking equally, each had the privilege of another shot; 
 but, at this juncture, the negro gave a signal, the door of the 
 squatter's hut opened, and Abraham Thorn, with his three 
 sons, each having his rifle in the hollow of his arm, strode over 
 the clearing, and with a graceful nonchalance took up a con- 
 venient position by the palisades. Tom Fling winced; I led 
 Hummingbird back to the castle. 
 
 " Room for the squatter, gentlemen," said the captain, with 
 an easy politeness; "Abraham would try his skill." 
 
 Without deigning any reply to this piece of civility, Abraham 
 Thorn (who was a huge, ungainly-looking man, with a repul- 
 sive squint) folded his arms, put his back to a tree, and after 
 eyeing me for a moment or two with no particular amount of 
 favour, turning to one of his sons, said, " Take your piece, boy, 
 and put a ball through the centre of that bull's-eye, for there is 
 not a man here, it seems, that can do it." 
 
 The tallest of the highwayman's offspring a fine fellow, 
 with a head and chest like an ox stepped forward, threw out 
 
234 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 his left foot, and bringing his rifle down to the mark instead of 
 up, exhibited but a third-rate proficiency as a sharpshooter. A 
 horrible scowl passed over the unprepossessing face of the 
 squatter, and he would have struck his son to the earth, had not 
 the young t giant ducked his head cleverly, and avoided the 
 blow. Beckoning to the second, Abraham bade him fill his 
 brother's place. 
 
 Well delivered, but still wide of the bull's-eye. With a 
 hideous oath, the squatter smote his son heavily upon the 
 mouth, and commmanded the third to step forth. 
 
 The hand of the young man faltered, and his lip quivered, 
 as he levelled the ponderous fusee; but, though his aim was 
 long and deliberate, he failed to do his father's bidding. Foam- 
 ing with fury, the highwayman would have shot him dead on 
 the spot, had not Captain Ramsay interposed, and, pointing to 
 the target, cried, " Put your ball in the bull's-eye, Abraham, 
 not in your boy's head. We know you for a murderer now 
 prove yourself a marksman." 
 
 An awful imprecation; a moment's silence; and the sharp 
 crack of the discharged firelock. 
 
 " You have wasted your lead, Abraham ; there were eight 
 bullets in the target, and I count but eight still." 
 
 "Then you can see no clearer than an eight- day-old wolfs 
 pup," retorted the highwayman; "look in the bull's-eye, fool." 
 
 " White man lie," muttered Nickstiek, turning upon the 
 squatter a look of scorn; "his tongue is forked, and can only 
 hiss; his heart is whiter than his face." 
 
 As the Indian spoke, a loud yell was heard, and the hunch- 
 back, appearing at one of the castle windows, dropped from it 
 to the ground; but the height of the palisades baffled his at- 
 tempt to scale them, and he remained yet a prisoner. The 
 highwayman and his sons (who had believed Sapins to be ab- 
 sent on a hunt) clubbed their rifles, and manifested a disposi- 
 tion to rush forward and strike a blow for his release, but the 
 sudden presentation of all our own pieces to their heads caused 
 them to fall back. At the same moment, one of the ports in 
 the watch-tower flew open, the muzzle of the carronade was 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 235 
 
 thrust out, and the negro waited but the word to pour a shower 
 of grape among the infuriated group. 
 
 " Hear me, squatter," cried Captain Ramsay, with his blue 
 eye flashing defiance: " the first shot you fire will be the death- 
 knell of the hunchback :, provoke me a second time, and I will 
 blow your hut about your ears. I have talked and remon- 
 strated long enough ; the time has now come for me to act 
 beware, then, how you rouse me!" 
 
 With these words, the captain, motioning his little army to 
 precede him, entered the palisades, where Napoleon Crake 
 (who had descended from his post of honour for the express 
 purpose) was effecting the recapture of the enraged hunchback 
 a daring exploit which he achieved by seducing the power- 
 ful Sapins into a pugilistic encounter, and, carefully watching 
 his opportunity, rushing in upon him head first, with a ram- 
 like impetuosity against which the solid logs of the very pali- 
 sade itself scarcely showed themselves to be proof. The gates 
 of the captain's stronghold were then brought together with a 
 clash, and the heavy bars dropped over them, just as Isaac 
 Crease (a man with a head like a monkey's, and only one ear, 
 which was thin and flat like a leaf), followed by a second per- 
 sonage, whom I at once recognised as my Little Golgothan 
 guide, Rattlesnake, stepped, rifle in hand, from their canoe to 
 the shore, and, without deigning a look either to the right 
 hand or to the left, stalked straight up the clearing into the 
 hut of the squatter. 
 
 HEAP THE FORTY-FIRST. 
 
 For some hours subsequent to the arrival of Isaac Crease 
 and his comrade Rattlesnake, the half-breed guide, a profound 
 stillness reigned throughout the Improvement; but it was the 
 calm that generally precedes a storm. The addition of two 
 such able auxiliaries to the number of the highwayman's party 
 boded no good to ourselves, and we fully believed that an 
 attack was in contemplation. But the impregnability of his 
 
236 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 little stronghold, together with the implicit reliance he put in 
 the good faith and ready services of those around him, induced 
 the captain to view the whole thing as a rather excellent joke, 
 which promised a great deal of mutual sport and pleasantry. 
 For myself, I confess that I looked forward to the chances of 
 a brush with the squatter and his sons, and the burning of a 
 few flasks of gunpowder, with a relish such as no words can 
 express ; and I think I shall not be doing my friends Twobears 
 Ramsay, Tom Fling, Nickstick, and Mr Napoleon Crake, an 
 injustice, if I state that they quite reciprocated my feelings on 
 this point. At all events, they exhibited no ordinary alacrity 
 in the replenishment of powder-horns, the casting of bullets, 
 the oiling of pistol-locks, and the furbishing of sabres, in all of 
 which agreeable preliminaries Mr Crake took a conspicuous 
 part. Indeed, it is to that gentleman that I am indebted for a 
 new wrinkle in the art of gunnery. In preparing bullets for 
 use, I had always carefully cut off the shank-end with my 
 knife, and rolled them together in some vessel until they were 
 perfectly round. Mr Crake strongly deprecated this system, 
 and gave me to understand that it was always best to leave 
 them with the neck on, as rifle-balls revolved in their passage 
 through the air, and the protruding part enabled them to in- 
 flict a much more frightful wound. He cautioned me, also, to 
 be more economical in the use of my powder, which was a va- 
 luable article in the bush. He said that as much of that com- 
 pound as would barely cover the bullet was sufficient for all 
 ordinary purposes; and the extreme deference I paid to his 
 opinion in these matters, secured me Mr Crake's everlasting 
 friendship and esteem. 
 
 Towards evening, we were entertained by a slight develop- 
 ment on the part of the squatter and his staff. The whole of 
 the party emerged from the hut, and made a complete detour 
 of the Improvement. They were all armed, and evidently in- 
 tended to impress us with a proper sense of their formidability. 
 The four Thorns were giants, and their every stride was a good 
 yard and a-half. Isaac Crease was a small thin man, and had 
 a dress as light as a harlequin's. There was not an inch of 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 237 
 
 superfluous clothing about him. He had a slippery look, and 
 an air as though he could, on occasion, have squeezed himself 
 under a door, or through a keyhole. In walking, he appeared 
 scarcely to touch the ground; and, as he passed under the 
 overhanging boughs of a stately pine, I felt that he had 
 nothing to do but give a slight spring, to attach himself, squir- 
 rel-like, to any branch of it. After Abraham Thorn and his 
 sons had disappeared in the forest, I could see this man and 
 the half-breed guide talking together under a hemlock, with 
 their faces turned to the Improvement, and pointed them out 
 to Captain Ramsay. 
 
 " You have seen that vagabond before, I think ? " observed 
 he, alluding to Rattlesnake. 
 
 " Yes," I replied ; " he coveted my rifle, and we almost 
 came to blows about it." 
 
 " And he stole my piano legs," cried the captain, bitterly; 
 and here there was a general laugh. 
 
 " How easily I could pick him off through this loophole," 
 said Twobears, cocking his rifle. 
 
 " Do not be an ass, I beg," urgecl Twobears' father, looking 
 sharply round; for the young hunter was manifesting a strong 
 inclination to indulge in the pastime hinted. 
 
 " He stands so prettily for it," said Twobears, his fingers 
 itching to be at the trigger^ " I could put the bullet right 
 through his heart." 
 
 At this moment the squatter and his boys emerged from the 
 forest depths, and, followed by Isaac Crease and Rattlesnake, 
 moved slowly towards the highwayman's hut, bearing some 
 heavy burden among them. What the nature of that burden 
 was, we were unable to ascertain 4 nor was our curiosity 
 lessened when we heard them laugh loudly, and saw the whole 
 group bending mysteriously over the object. 
 
 " I would give a canister of my best powder to know what 
 they have got there," cried the captain, straining his eyes to 
 the uttermost. " What say you, Blackfoot?" 
 
 " They have taken a wolf in their traps," said Fling; " that 
 is all." 
 
238 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 "No; it is the size of three wolves put together." 
 
 "They have caught a bear in a pitfall, perhaps, and he is 
 too heavy for them to carry," suggested Twobears. 
 
 "What would there be to laugh at in that?" retorted the 
 captain. " It won't do. Come, Blackfoot, you have been eye- 
 ing their proceedings long enough; speak what is it?" 
 
 " Wolf not bad thought; bear better," replied the Indian, 
 with his eye still fixed upon the distance. 
 
 " Ay, ay, chief; but how do you account for all that merri- 
 ment? A man like Thorn doesn't laugh at trifles; he is made 
 of sterner stuff. They are going to play us a trick." 
 
 The Indian nodded, and said, " Hunchback, best thought; they 
 laugh to-day our turn laugh to-morrow. We see ;" and Nick- 
 stick turned away. Not so the captain, who continued to gaze 
 in the direction of the squatter's hut, and endeavour to attach 
 some meaning to the curious ceremony we had just witnessed. 
 
 During the evening meal (the regulations of Butternut 
 Castle admitted of but two meals a-day one in the morning, 
 the other about eight at night), I observed Poll Crake enter 
 the room rather abruptly, and hold some telegraphic communi- 
 cation with Twobears and the trapper; but, as there was no- 
 thing unusual in the occurrence the negro being accustomed 
 to express himself as much by signs as by speech I paid little 
 attention to it. In a few minutes, however, the young hunter 
 and his friend, who had both followed Napoleon Crake from 
 the room, returned, and announced a very startling piece of 
 intelligence. The hunchback Sapins had escaped ! Captain 
 Ramsay sprang to his feet. The Blackfoot alone sat unmoved, 
 smoking his tomahawk-pipe with a gravity superior to any- 
 thing he had before exhibited. He manifested no surprise 
 whatever, and merely repeated the words he had used an hour 
 or two before. " Hunchback, very good thought never mind ; 
 they laugh to-day our turn laugh to-morrow. We see." 
 
 The enigma of the heavy burden and the jollity of the 
 Thorns was now satisfactorily solved. It was evident that 
 the moment the negro had turned the key upon the hunchback, 
 the latter had thrown himself from the window, and, in seal- 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 239 
 
 ing the formidable palisades, had either broken his leg, or 
 wounded himself so severely, that he was only just able to crawl 
 into the cover of the forest, where the accidental discovery of 
 him by his own party, and some accompanying jocularity at 
 the expense of ourselves, occasioned that burst of merriment 
 to which we had been witnesses. 
 
 Captain Ramsay expressing an intention of having sentinels 
 posted at given distances within the palisades during the night, 
 Twobears, Tom Fling, Nickstick, and I, volunteered for the 
 service, and immediately seizing rifles and buffalo robes, re- 
 paired to our respective stations. 
 
 The night was dark, and there was not a breath of air in 
 motion. I could plainly hear my heart beat, as I lay with my 
 cheek upon my hand, and my eyes fixed upon the black log- 
 barriers of Butternut. My preconceived notions of the plea- 
 santries of bush-life bade fair to be realised ; and, in place of 
 a gang of rough burglars, had we but been beset by a horde of 
 scalping Pawnee or Sioux warriors in their war-paint, my 
 happiness would, I verily believe, have been complete. An 
 hour elapsed, and I then felt, rather than saw, a figure in the 
 act of bending down over me. I sprang to my feet, and had 
 my finger on the trigger of my rifle; but an almost inaudible 
 " hush " met my ear, and I at once recognised the gentle voice 
 of Hummingbird. I knew, from the tone in which she spoke, 
 and the action which accompanied the word, that she had mis- 
 taken me for the trapper, and I whispered my own name in 
 her ear. There was a slight exclamation of surprise, and her 
 figure was lost in the gloom. I had scarcely resumed my po- 
 sition, before I became conscious of the approach of a second 
 visiter. It was the young hunter Twobears. He stretched 
 himself quietly upon the buffalo robe at my side, and said, 
 with some concern, "Have you been stirring?" 
 
 "Not an inch why?" 
 
 "Have you seen nothing?" 
 
 " A man need have sharp eyes to see on such a night as this." 
 
 "Have you felt nothing ?" 
 
 " A little cold, that is all." 
 
240 WHITTLINGS FKOM THE WEST. 
 
 " Come, a truce to joking; I am serious. There is some one 
 on the prowl; a strange figure passed me a moment since. I 
 must go and hear what Fling says." 
 
 "Nonsense; you have been dreaming." 
 
 " I have not closed an eye, I assure you. I must see to 
 this." 
 
 " Sit down, and let us talk it over." 
 
 " No, I am uneasy, and must find Fling." 
 
 " Bah ! he will laugh at you/" 
 
 Well." 
 
 " Stand! Who goes there?" cried I, as he began to move 
 away. 
 
 " Who ? why, your brother sentinel to be sure," returned the 
 bewildered Twobears. 
 
 "Tut! Do sentinels leave their posts? Give the countersign!" 
 
 " There, don't make me laugh. I left Poll Crake to mount 
 guard in my absence. Let me go." 
 
 " If you stir hand or foot, I will drive a bullet through your 
 body. You are my prisoner; and, seizing the willing culprit 
 by the hand and shoulder, I forced hirn down upon the buffalo 
 skin by my side. 
 
 " I suppose your Generalship will have me shot, at least, in 
 the morning," said Twobears, with a laugh. " Name my ran- 
 som, will you?" 
 
 " If you will tell me a good tale, now," said I, anxious (for 
 reasons that will be intelligible to the reader) to detain Two- 
 bears as long as I could, " I will let you go." 
 
 " Did Fling ever tell you about Mark Hive, and their brush 
 with the thirty Sioux?"* 
 
 " No ; let me hear it," 
 
 "Hush! look yonder!" 
 
 I fixed my eye upon the dark outline of the palisades, and 
 was conscious of some black mass moving stealthily along 
 them on the outer side. The circumstance was one of a nature 
 
 * The tale to which Twobears here alluded, has already figured in the pages 
 of HOGG'S INSTRUCTOR, under the name of ' ' A Brush in the Bush." 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 241 
 
 sufficiently suspicious to warrant our giving the alarm ; but, 
 before I did so, I crawled on my hands and knees so close to 
 the object, that I could distinctly feel the warm breath of some- 
 body upon my cheek. Having thus assured myself of the rea- 
 lity of what I beheld, I crept back a few paces, and desired 
 Twobears to give the preconcerted signal. He accordingly 
 threw a small pebble in the direction of the trapper, and an- 
 other towards the negro and Indian. The two latter were at 
 our side in a second, but the former did not make his appear- 
 ance. I drew the attention of the negro to the spot, and we 
 all four watched for some minutes. The dark figure continued 
 to glide along the palisades, then it paused, went back again, 
 remained motionless for awhile, and, finally, after several in- 
 effectual attempts, succeeded in climbing the high stakes, and 
 prepared to descend on their inner side. " Good!" whispered 
 Nickstick in my ear; while Twobears rubbed his hands noise- 
 lessly together, and Poll Crake began to bare his long arms for 
 a tussle. As the trapper had been the first to put up the 
 game, however, he felt that he had a right to bag it. The 
 moment the daring intruder set foot upon the ground, there- 
 fore, Twobears tripped his legs from under him, and threw 
 him upon his face. With a gigantic effort, the highwayman 
 (for we supposed it to be no less a person) wrenched his body 
 round, and away the trapper and he rolled together for at 
 least four yards. Abraham Thorn strove to speaf , but the 
 negro placed his large hand over his mouth, and, with the as- 
 sistance of Twobears and the Blackfoot chief, dragged him 
 into the castle. 
 
 " Fetch a light, and call the captain," cried Twobsars to 
 Napoleon Crake. 
 
 The negro ran to execute the order, and, the mouth of the 
 prisoner being unstopped, the following startling sounds issued 
 from it. 
 
 " What does all this foolery mean ? Nickstick ! Twobears ! 
 let me go instantly, before I use my teeth." 
 
 At the same moment, Captain Ramsay, with an oil-lamp in 
 his hand, entered the hall, and we all burst into a prolonged 
 
 Q 
 
242 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 fit of laughter. We had bagged the trapper, Tom Fling! 
 Moved by the spirit of adventure, he had stolen from the Im- 
 provement, with the view of reconnoitring the premises of the 
 highwayman, and ascertaining the nature of his intentions re- 
 specting Butternut and its defenders. In effecting a retreat, 
 however, he had missed the sliding stake in the darkness, and, 
 fearful that his long absence would create an alarm, was obliged 
 to scale the palisades. 
 
 " And what of Thorn ? " asked the captain ; " what have you 
 seen or heard?" 
 
 "Nothing; all is still. There is no attack in contemplation 
 at present." 
 
 And here the night's adventures ended. 
 
 HEAP THE FORTY-SECOND. 
 
 The next morning, as the natural result of our dangerous 
 neighbour the hunchback's emancipation, a great risk became 
 attendant upon the exhibition of any of our persons, not only 
 outside the palisades, but even within them. An intimation of 
 our danger in this respect was soon conveyed to us by the ap- 
 pearance of the idiot himself, fusee in hand, at the entrance of 
 the squatter's hut, casting a furtive eye over the Improvement. 
 
 " Now, by heaven, if yonder boy but so much as drops the 
 muzzle of his piece in this direction," exclaimed the choleric 
 captain, " I will stretch his body, like a mat, across his father's 
 doorway. We must examine the palisades, to see that no trick 
 has been played us in the darkness. Twobears, keep your eye 
 upon the hunchback he means mischief." 
 
 As he spoke, Captain Ramsay led the way to the intrench- 
 ments, and, assisted by the Blackfoot and myself, made a care- 
 ful inspection of all the stakes, beginning at the solid gateway, 
 and going slowly round, till we had arrived at the same point 
 on the opposite side of it. A second and more close investiga- 
 tion was then made, and my gaze fixed itself upon an almost 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 243 
 
 imperceptible streak in one of the logs. I pointed it out to 
 Captain Ramsay, who shook his head pleasantly, and muttered 
 " You are a neat workman, Abraham, and a clever fellow to 
 boot, but you are scarcely a match for an old soldier either; 
 you should have filled up the gap better, and blown away the 
 sawdust. Let me see if you have finished your job." And 
 drawing a bowieknife from his pocket, the captain used it as a 
 probe, and found the stake so completely severed, that a very 
 slight push would have brought the detached portion to the 
 ground, and formed an aperture that would have permitted the 
 ingress of a stout man. 
 
 " This is the work of a keyhole saw," said I, " and it was 
 evidently wielded by a short man, for here is the mark of his 
 knee in the soil, and there is the print of his toe, not fifteen 
 inches from it." 
 
 " You are right. We have to thank Isaac Crease for this. 
 Pray, gentlemen, which of your party was on guard here last 
 night." 
 
 " Tom Fling," replied Twobears, 
 
 I was seized with a dry cough at this moment. 
 
 " That is strange, too," continued the captain, " for you re- 
 member he was outside the palisades, and, when he was search- 
 ing for the sliding stake, had any one been here, the two must 
 have come into collision. The log must have been cut prior 
 to his reconnoitre of Thorn's hut. Are you sure that he was 
 not asleep?" 
 
 " I can vouch for his innocence in that respect," said I; and 
 there the cross-examination ended. 
 
 As we were ascending the three steps that led up to the 
 wooden gallery which formed a sort of rampart round the castle, 
 and as Twobears was in the act of stooping to give Poll Crake 
 some directions respecting the severed stake, the sharp crack of 
 a rifle fell upon our ears, and one side of the negro's face was 
 deluged with blood. The hunchback had just dropped the 
 breech of his fusee to the ground, and was turning to effect a 
 retreat; but it was too late; a loaded rifle was leaning against 
 one of the pillars of the castle terrace; Captain Ramsay seized 
 
244 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 it levelled and the hunchback, with a loud yell, dropped flat 
 upon his face. A moment afterwards, Abraham Thorn rushed 
 madly forth, and, with his clenched fist raised to heaven, ap- 
 peared to be calling down some horrible malediction upon the 
 slayer of his son. He then dragged the body in by the head 
 and shoulders, and the door of the hut was re-closed. 
 
 In the course of an hour, the squatter again made his ap- 
 pearance. He was followed by three of his sons and Isaac 
 Crease. The half-breed brought up the rear. All had their 
 rifles. Isaac Crease lodged his against a tree, and, advancing 
 to the gate of the palisades, called for the hunter Twobears. 
 
 " But one interpretation can be put upon this proceeding," 
 said the captain, who had been dressing the wounded cheek of 
 his faithful negro. " Twobears, you have incurred the ill-will 
 of yonder trapper, and he has come to shed your blood. There 
 is a long-standing feud between you, and one life, at least, is 
 sure to pay the forfeit of it. I know that you are brave, but 
 to-day there will be need of more than your common courage 
 and vigilance. Remember that you have not to fight as one 
 who has aught to avenge. There must be no such bitterness in 
 your heart. This quarrel is one which you have sought to 
 avoid, and unsuccessfully. Recollect that you are acting in 
 self-defence; remember that there is death in yon assassin'* 
 glance, and, if you fail to kill him, he will kill you. Forward !" 
 
 It was an exciting moment. The bar was dropped ; the gate 
 was opened, and we issued from it. The Indian whispered a 
 word in the ear of the young hunter, and wrung his hand. The 
 latter then advanced to Isaac Crease, and, looking him calmly 
 in the face, said, " Twelve months since, you offered me an in- 
 sult. I resented it on the spot, and was satisfied. Were you ? " 
 
 "No!" thundered Isaac Crease, with the foam of a long- 
 cherished fury upon his white lip. " Nothing but blood can 
 wash out the remembrance of a wrong. Come ! I am here to 
 fight not to talk." 
 
 The trapper led the way into the forest, and was followed by 
 Abraham Thorn ; Twobears and his father went away in an op- 
 posite direction. The combatants having secreted themselves, 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 245 
 
 the squatter and Captain Ramsay then returned ; and one of 
 the most extraordinary and deadly struggles perhaps that the 
 backwoods ever witnessed was now about to take place. 
 
 There was a profound silence. Captain Ramsay, evidently, 
 was much agitated. Abraham Thorn stood leaning his cheek 
 upon his rifle, with his eyes fixed upon the ground. There was 
 a laugh upon his face but it was the laugh of a devil. He 
 knew that Isaac Crease was no novice in a matter of this 
 nature, and the highwayman was revolving the chances of his 
 soon having one enemy the less. 
 
 Still all was a dead silence. A few drops of rain fell; the 
 sky cleared again; and presently a twig was heard to snap. 
 My heart began to beat with anxiety. Abraham Thorn re- 
 moved his right cheek from the muzzle of his rifle, and laid on 
 it his left. I drew out my watch, and found that fifteen minutes 
 had elapsed. 
 
 At length the sharp crack of a fusee, and again another 
 deathlike stillness. The face of the Indian brightened, as I have 
 seen some revolving lamp upon a dangerous sea-coast. Fling 
 turned to me, and whispered that Twobears had drawn trigger, 
 but it would go hard with him if he had not shot the trapper 
 dead. A few minutes afterwards another twig snapped, and a 
 second sharp report was heard. I heard the negro gnash his 
 teeth, and saw the captain grow pale; while the highwayman 
 exchanged a glance of satisfaction with the half-breed. There 
 was now a third report, and a bullet sank into the palisades, 
 within a yard of us. It left a faint crimson stain upon the 
 wood. The Blackfoot dug the ball out with his knife, and we 
 saw that it was from the rifle of Isaac Crease. 
 
 Ten more anxious minutes rolled slowly away, and then, no 
 longer able to restrain his eagerness to ascertain the fate of his 
 boy, Captain Ramsay rushed into the forest. The highwayman 
 and his sons, the half-breed, Nickstick, Tom Fling, and I, fol- 
 lowed. For some time our search was fruitless: at length the 
 highwayman raised a cry whether of rage or triumph, we 
 could not tell and stooped over the prostrate figure of a man. 
 It was the corpse of the trapper, Isaac Crease. The ball had 
 
246 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 entered under his chin, gone direct through his palate, and 
 buried itself in his brain. His features were frightfully dis- 
 torted, and his left hand yet grasped his rifle. Abraham Thorn 
 lifted the body from the ground, and, uttering one of his wither- 
 ing execrations, let it fall back heavily. Captain Ramsay gazed 
 a moment upon the clod of earth at his feet, and, seeing that 
 life was extinct, passed on. He called upon the name of Two- 
 bears, but there was no reply. Nickstick pointed to a pool of 
 blood hard by. 
 
 " Yes, you are right, boy," said the veteran, with a mourn- 
 ful smile ; " the poor lad fell here, and has crawled away on his 
 hands and knees. See the red track he has left behind him! 
 He cannot have gone far. Ah, here he lies!" 
 
 The highwayman caught the last word, and hastened up. 
 
 " Not a foot further, on your life!" cried the enraged captain, 
 menacing him. " Death is a solemn thing, and this spot is 
 sacred." 
 
 " Is the boy dead?" asked the burglar, with a coarse laugh; 
 " answer me that." And, struggling forward, he spat upon 
 the body of Twobears. 
 
 Captain Ramsay clenched his fist, and smote the brute with 
 such force upon the temple, that he dropped his rifle, and fell 
 backwards like a log. The squatter's sons instantly sprang 
 forward to avenge the blow; the half-breed put himself at 
 their side; and a complete hand-to-hand fight, with clubbed 
 rifles, ensued. I saw one of the Thorns knocked down by 
 Tom Fling, and I saw the latter grappled by two of the fallen 
 youth's brothers. I was in the act of rushing to the trapper's 
 assistance, when, with the bound of a tiger, Rattlesnake leaped 
 upon me, and Nickstick upon him. We all three rolled upon 
 the ground together, and, when I arose, I saw the young 
 Indian with his hand upon the throat of the guide. The 
 half-breed's face was perfectly black, and JSickstick was feel- 
 ing for his knife. I turned to Fling, and, seeing the two 
 backwoodsmen endeavouring to brain him with their pieces, 
 fired at the elder of the brothers, but missed my mark, and put 
 the bullet through his hand. He ran back a yard or two, and 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 247 
 
 levelled his long fusee at me, but it missed fire, and Nickstick 
 joining me at the moment, the two young squatters turned 
 their backs upon us, and ran towards the hut. The Blackfoot 
 followed them a little way, and then returning, snatched the 
 knife from the belt of Fling, and went down upon his knees 
 again by the side of the insensible half-breed. 
 
 " Spare his scalp, Blackfoot/' cried I, reading his intention. 
 
 "No scalpee?" echoed the Indian. "No take scalp, not 
 good; white brother not wish scalpee, well." And having set 
 the guide with his back to a tree, and knocked the lock from 
 his fusee, we returned to the castle, to learn the fate of Two- 
 bears. 
 
 We overtook the body just as it was being borne through 
 the gate of the palisades. The cheek of Twobears was pale, 
 and his brow w T as wet, for the tears that would not be sup- 
 pressed had burst from the captain's eyes, as he bent over the 
 prostrate figure of his son. Poll Crake gave a howl as they 
 carried it past him, and Hummingbird, rushing out, threw 
 her arms round the neck of her brother, and let her long black 
 hair completely envelope his face/ Her father, meantime, cut 
 and tore away the clothes, to ascertain the nature and depth 
 of the wound. 
 
 " It is too late," cried the captain ; " he is a dead man." 
 
 " He is worth three dead men yet," said Fling, who was 
 unwilling to believe that any real ill had befallen his comrade 
 and friend. 
 
 I put rny hand to the young hunter's heart, and found that it 
 still beat. Twobears had merely fainted from loss of blood. The 
 bullet had passed through the fleshy part of his right side ; no 
 bones were broken, and no vital part had been touched. Once 
 assured of this, the captain set to work with his lint and 
 bandages, and Torn Fling sprinkled the wounded man's brow 
 with water. I looked round, and missed Nickstick. I guessed 
 that he had stolen back into the forest, with the view of scalp- 
 ing the half-breed, and went after him. Yes ; Nickstick had 
 his knife out. The half-breed was coughing violently, and 
 still sitting as we had left him, with his back to a tree. The 
 
248 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 highwayman was gone. I put my arm through that of the 
 Elackfoot, and led him back to the castle. Rattlesnake levelled 
 his rifle at us the moment our backs were turned, and we heard 
 him fling it savagely to the ground, upon discovering that the 
 lock had been removed. 
 
 On our return, we found Twobears sitting up, and talking. 
 He grasped my hand, and inquired if the trapper was still alive. 
 I shook my head, and Twobears looked thoughtful. 
 
 "How did the villain conduct himself?" asked Captain 
 Ramsay, holding a piece of plaster over a lamp, and applying 
 it to the young hunter's side. 
 
 " Something after this fashion," replied Twobears. " After 
 the signal for action had been given, I caught a glimpse of his 
 figure behind a stump, and fired. He cried out sharply, drew 
 himself into cover, and retaliated in so clever a manner, that 
 his bullet absolutely carried away my right eyebrow. Ecce 
 signum! I was the first to re-load, and presently saw his 
 narrow face about thirty yards off, glaring at me from behind 
 an old cedar. I saw him drop the priming into the pan of his 
 rifle with his left hand, and guessed that the other was disabled. 
 The opportunity being too valuable a one for me to let slip, I 
 exchanged my quarters for better behind a big pine, which 
 completely covered my body. He observed the movement, and 
 flung his tomahawk at rny head as I ran. You will find the 
 tool yonder, buried to the very eye, in the tree behind which 
 I took up my position. Before he had time to skip back to 
 his cover, I fired on him again, and he fell back like one 
 mortally hit. I was duped, and went towards him, but had 
 the sense to re-load as I did so. When I had got to within 
 about five yards of where he lay, face downwards, he sprang 
 suddenly to his feet, and shot me through the side. I felt the 
 warm blood streaming from the wound, but mustered strength 
 enough, just as he was clubbing his rifle to beat me down, to 
 thrust out my piece at his head, and pull the trigger. He 
 dropped instantly, and, crawling from him as far as I could, I 
 lay down and fainted. It was an ugly affair altogether." 
 " And I am not sorry it is over," said the captain, wiping 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 249 
 
 the perspiration from his pale forehead, and throwing himself 
 upon his favourite wolfskin-covered couch. " I would sooner 
 fight a score of such duels, than again go through the anxiety 
 I have this day suffered on your account, Twobears. But 
 Isaac Crease will trouble us no more." 
 
 " His blood be on his own head," said the hunter. " He 
 swore that, if I did not fight him, he would kill me the moment 
 an opportunity offered and there is an end of that. I did 
 not quarrel with him, but he with me. He attempted to cast 
 a stain upon the honour of my mother. What of Thorn and 
 Rattlesnake? Did any of you come to blows?" 
 
 " The half-breed has met with some rough usage," replied 
 Fling ; " and the squatter and his boys have all of them sore 
 heads. They will most probably pay us a visit by and by." 
 And Tom rubbed his hands relishingly. 
 
 HEAP THE FORTY-THIRD. 
 
 The remainder of that eventful day rolled quietly by. The 
 door of the squatter's hut was not observed to open once dur- 
 ing the whole afternoon ; but we knew too much of the high- 
 wayman's cunning, to suppose that he would suffer this quiet 
 state of things to continue. Night had now set in once more. 
 There was not a breath of air stirring. 
 
 " I apprehend an attack of some kind or other," said Captain 
 Ramsay, " and we must be prepared for the worst. If an 
 entrance is attempted, it will be by the stake they have cut. 
 It will form a pretty trap. I should like to know what is 
 going on in yonder hut, and I think I shall send Poll Crake 
 and the Blackfoot to reconnoitre." 
 
 "I was just about to volunteer for the service," replied 
 Fling; " what do you say, Mr Log?" 
 
 " Agreed; we two." 
 
 " Then follow me." 
 
 " You may perhaps find one of these things useful," said the 
 
250 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 captain, pushing a brace of pistols into our hands. " Should 
 Abraham happen to be on the watch, you will not meet with 
 the most friendly reception." 
 
 The trapper led the way to the palisades ; he groped about 
 for .a little while; scratched the soil away from the bottom of 
 one of the stakes; removed a piece of bark, which secreted a 
 hinge, and turning up the log, we both passed through. 
 
 " You must be cautious not to tread on any of these brittle 
 sticks," whispered Tom, as we stole silently over the clearing ; 
 " the sound would be heard halt' a mile off on such a night as 
 this. Hark! do you hear the roar of the rapids? They are 
 at least a league away. It is a sign of rain. Here we are at the 
 hut ; I hear voices, but see no light." 
 
 " They have slung a blanket before the window," said I. 
 
 " The scoundrels ! so they have ; but there is another win- 
 dow at the back ; we will try that. Ah, this is pleasant 
 here's a sight ! " 
 
 A large fire was blazing upon the squatter's hearth, and six 
 men were sitting round it. An old woman was stirring a 
 species of pot, or caldron, which swung from a hook under the 
 chimney; and in a further corner, upon a rude table, lay 
 stretched the corpse of the ill-fated Isaac Crease. 
 
 " They are boiling a part of our dead friend for supper, ap- 
 parently," whispered the trapper. 
 
 " It looks very like it," said I. " Pray who is that elderly 
 lady presiding over the pot ? " 
 
 " That is the squatter's wife. Mark her as she stirs up the 
 caldron does she not look like one of the witches in * Mac- 
 beth ? ' Yonder is Sapins, in the corner ; his right arm is 
 broken. I wish we could hear as well as see. Hark! " 
 
 The whole party, at this moment, moved by something the 
 half-breed had said, burst into a loud laugh; but their merri- 
 ment suddenly ceased, and one of the highwayman's sons, aris- 
 ing from the bench by the fire, walked towards the window. 
 He put his face close to it, as if looking into the night, and 
 then went back again to his seat. Abraham Thorn now arose, 
 and opened the door. The half-breed joined him. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 251 
 
 " We must hear what these vagabonds have to say to each 
 other," said Fling; "they have mischief in their looks." And 
 we crept round to within three yards of the spot where the two 
 men stood. I saw the highwayman close the door cautiously, 
 and I saw Rattlesnake stretch out his hand, to learn whether 
 it rained. 
 
 " I don't like your plan," said Abraham. " If we could burn 
 them all in their nest, it would be better," 
 
 The trapper touched me with his elbow, by way of inquiring 
 whether I heard that. 
 
 " You don't like my plan, I suppose, because it threatens a 
 little danger to yourself," retorted Rattlesnake; "but if you 
 do as I bid you, not a man of them will have time to lift a 
 finger." 
 
 Again the elbow of Tom Fling was thrust into my side, and 
 drawing forth a pistol he cocked it silently. I put my hand 
 on his arm, and, uncocking the weapon, he returned it to his 
 pocket. 
 
 " I shall never be able to get my long body through that 
 hole," muttered Abraham Thorn ; " and there is not one of my 
 boys but what is as big as raj-self. Besides, the Ramsays will 
 be on the watch." 
 
 " They will not watch ; they think their palisades too secure," 
 returned Rattlesnake. " You don't talk much like a man who 
 has a blow to avenge! I thought that you " 
 
 The squatter interrupted him with an oath, and stamped 
 violently upon the ground. " I will find a way through the 
 palisade," he cried, gulping his rage. 
 
 " I shall presently go and remove the stake then," said 
 Rattlesnake, " and will return to you, when we will arrange 
 the whole matter. Sapins is disabled, and must stay behind. 
 Come, I am hungry a man cannot work on an empty stomach." 
 And the pair re-entered the hut, and closed the door. 
 
 " Take your fill, half-breed," growled Fling, " for you will 
 never eat another supper in this world. Allons! Let us go; 
 we have no time to spare." And together the trapper and I 
 moved toward the Improvement. 
 
252 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 " Did you not stay Nickstick's hand this morning, when he 
 would have killed and scalped that dog yonder?" asked Fling. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " It was the worst thing you ever did." 
 
 Captain Ramsay, Nickstick, and the negro, were on the 
 watch. I left the trapper to recapitulate the conversation we 
 had overheard, and, throwing myself carelessly upon the buffalo 
 robe the captain had just vacated, began to revolve in my 
 mind the occurrences of the last few days. Presently a dark, 
 tall figure, muffled in a cloak, appeared, and stretched itself by 
 my side. It was Twobears. 
 
 " This is imprudent," said I. Hummingbird had strict in- 
 structions not to let you move from the castle. I must report 
 you." 
 
 "Nonsense! I can't stay within doors when there is work 
 to be done. I am quite well, and intend to signalise myself. 
 About what hour may the Philistines be expected?" 
 
 " Their Goliath will be with us in a few moments. He will 
 enter by yonder stake, and fall into the trap we have laid for 
 him. Who goes there?" 
 
 "Poll Crake and I," whispered the captain in my ear. (Two- 
 bears secreted himself instantly.) 
 
 "Whither?" asked I. 
 
 " To dig a grave." A new light broke in upon me. 
 
 "Must he die?" 
 
 " There is no alternative. Has he not planned the massacre 
 of us all? I would shoot him with my own hand sooner than 
 let such a villain escape. He hastened the death of my wife ; 
 he plotted the assassination of my son, and would now toma- 
 hawk my daughter. He dies to-night. I have said it. Take 
 care; hold him tight; he is as slippery as an eel. We shall 
 be near you." 
 
 I lay down again on my buffalo robe, and watched the dark- 
 ness deepen in the direction of the severed stake. By and 
 by I heard a twig crack, and knew that the half-breed was at 
 hand. 
 
 " Tuck up your sleeves/' said Twobears ; " ten to one but 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 253 
 
 he has greased his body. Do not attempt to seize him till he 
 is quite through. Look!" 
 
 A black mass moved stealthily backwards and forwards, with- 
 out the palisades. Then it paused; the half-breed passed a 
 knife all round the log; gave it a slight push; the stake broke 
 off, and fell inside. He put his hand in, withdrew it, and 
 listened. We distinctly heard the beating of his false heart. 
 I was just beginning to fear that I had let the right moment 
 slip, when Rattlesnake pushed in his head, but as quickly 
 withdrew it. At the same moment the moon broke partly 
 through a cloud, and shed sufficient light over the Improve- 
 ment for a quick eye to have detected all the figures with- 
 in the palisades. But it was evident that we were still in- 
 visible to the half-breed, for he put his head between the 
 stakes a second time, and the moon shutting herself up among 
 the clouds again, all became as dark as before. I saw the 
 half-breed with his hands and arms through the aperture. 
 That was enough; I threw myself upon the traitor, and 
 dragged him in. Captain Ramsay, Tom Fling, JSickstick, 
 and the negro, immediately joined us, and the latter put his 
 hand upon the half-breed's mouth, to prevent him from giving 
 any alarm. 
 
 "We have him now," cried the captain. "Leave him to me." 
 The words were no sooner spoken, than the wily Rattle- 
 snake wrenched himself round, drew out his knife, stabbed, the 
 young Blackfoot chief in the arm, gashed the face of Captain 
 Ramsay, and, making a dash through the broken palisade, dis- 
 appeared. We were quickly upon his trail, and his retreat to 
 the hut being cut off by the Indian and Poll Crake, he made 
 for the river, closely pursued by the trapper and myself. The 
 inoon again poured down a faint ray of light, and Rattlesnake, 
 turning round and finding us close upon him, plunged into the 
 Madwaska. We sprang into a canoe, cut the thong that at- 
 tached it to the shore, and darted away in pursuit. The half- 
 breed rose for breath, and dived a second time, like a water- 
 rat, shot along for at least thirty yards under the surface, and 
 when, guessing his intention, we once more caught a glimpse 
 
254 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 of his figure, he was scrambling up the opposite bank of the 
 river. The crag, however, was nearly perpendicular, and, 
 missing his grasp, he rolled helplessly back into the clutches 
 of the negro, who, although suffering from a desperate wound 
 inflicted by the knife of Rattlesnake, had swum gallantly to 
 the spot. The half-breed was speedily bound, gagged, placed 
 face upwards in the bottom of the canoe, and transferred to 
 the Improvement. 
 
 " In five minutes we may look for a visit from the squatter 
 and his sons," said the captain ; so what we have to do must 
 be done quickly, and without any vain parade of words. I be- 
 lieve we are all agreed as to the fate of Rattlesnake ; but, if 
 we are not, I can't help it. Cut the thongs if you will, and 
 let him die the death of a warrior." 
 
 The doomed half-breed was led to the grave that had been 
 dug for him; his feet were free, but his arms were bound. 
 Captain Ramsay, the Blackfoot chief, Fling, and the negro, 
 drew lots which of the four should give the fatal blow, and it 
 fell upon Nickstick. There was a momentary struggle; a 
 deep sigh ; and all was over. In the space of two short 
 minutes, a man had lived died and was buried ! 
 
 HEAP THE FORTY-FOURTH. 
 
 It was the intention of Rattlesnake to return to the hut of 
 the squatter, and report the state of matters in the Improve- 
 ment, ns well as plan the massacre of all those within it. The 
 probability now was, that, as the trapper did not return, ac- 
 cording to agreement, the squatter himself would steal out to 
 reconnoitre, and even at length venture through the palisade, 
 with the view of ascertaining the cause of the delay. It was 
 the captain's intention, therefore, to entrap the highwayman 
 precisely as he had entrapped Rattlesnake. For Abraham 
 Thorn, then, we were now upon the watch. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 255 
 
 "If we can catch the highwayman to-night," said Fling, 
 breaking a long silence, " I can promise you a few days' hunt- 
 ing; and we will make an excursion up the river to a beautiful 
 little island, at no great distance, where there is some fine 
 scenery and a noble fall of water. Hark ! who have we 
 here?" 
 
 It was Nickstick. He told Fling to join Twobears, while 
 he (the Blackfoot) sat a little with myself. 
 
 " Abraham sharp eye," muttered Nickstick. " Very sharp 
 see Isaac now. He ! he ! " 
 
 " It was a bad thing to shed blood, chief. Was there no al- 
 ternative ? " 
 
 " Alternatif ! What dat ? Too much hard word for Injun; 
 find small word, learn him better." 
 
 I explained my meaning, and the chief shook his head. 
 
 " Berry good end," said he. " All go off some time. Better 
 die so, than like capin's father." 
 
 I learned afterwards that the elder Mr Ramsay had expired 
 in an apoplectic fit. 
 
 " Tell more about England," said Nickstick, artfully chang- 
 ing the subject. " Ober dere long way big ship see, if tall 
 enough to look ober forest eh ! " 
 
 " Not quite ; the earth is round, you know, like a cannon- 
 ball." 
 
 " Ah ! so capin say. No b'lieve dat. Can't be round ; 
 quite flat see him flat with own eye to-morrow." 
 
 "No; the earth is round, and keeps revolving, like a bullet 
 from a rifle." 
 
 " Hear all dat splain before by capin ; can't b'lieve ; if spin 
 round, people fall off." 
 
 "No ; the rapidity of the motion keeps them on. If you put 
 a stone into a hoop, and throw it up, the stone will still be in 
 when the hoop touches the ground." 
 
 " Try him soon ; best try, know him sure hugh ! Hush ! 
 Abraham come." 
 
 The chief's quick ear had caught the sound of a snapping 
 twig, and we both crawled towards the cut log. If Abraham 
 
256 WHTTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 were there, it was a matter of speculation what his errand was, 
 and what his proceedings would be. If he had merely come 
 to reconnoitre, he would not venture within the palisades, and 
 it would be necessary to sally out upon him ; but, if he sus- 
 pected that some unforeseen circumstance had detained the 
 half-breed, and the latter awaited his co-operation, it was pro- 
 bable that the squatter would enter at once, and bring his sons 
 with him. 
 
 The sky was completely overcast, and the darkness of the 
 night rendered doubly deep by the gloom that the black forest 
 shed around. The dark background of the castle, too, afforded 
 our figures additional security from detection. By straining 
 our eyes through the palisades, we could see a figure stealing 
 slowly along them. That this was Abraham, there was little 
 doubt, for, in passing his hand along the logs, to discover the 
 right one, he suddenly paused, and uttered a terrible oath. He 
 had torn his fingers with a rusty nail. His identity being thus 
 proved, we watched the movements of the highwayman closely. 
 These were conducted with extreme caution. Abraham first 
 listened attentively ; then imitated the croak of a bull-frog, in 
 a manner that did him great credit. Nickstick quickly an- 
 swered the signal. Abraham put his rifle through, and laid it 
 on the ground. Finding that the stake had been already re- 
 moved, he gave a grunt of satisfaction, but still hesitated 
 whether to enter or not. 
 
 Just then I heard the Indian tell the captain (who was 
 close behind me) that the whole of the squatter's sons were at 
 hand, though I was altogether ignorant from whence Nick- 
 stick could have derived so important a piece of information. 
 I exercised my faculties of hearing and seeing to their very 
 utmost, and could detect the presence of no more than the one 
 figure already alluded to. A long pause succeeded, and at 
 length a second form presented itself close to that of the 
 squatter. 
 
 "Go through, boy," said Abraham; "keep your weather 
 eye and ear open, and return to me." 
 
 "Fall back!" whispered the captain. "Let him get in 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 257 
 
 and out again, and we shall have the old fox himself pre- 
 sently. That will do," continued the veteran, as our backs 
 touched the wooden rampart of the castle. " Since we are 
 about to play at blind-man's-buff' with the young squatter, 
 take care none of you get caught." 
 
 Nor was this warning ill-timed; for Abraham's eldest son, 
 in carrying out the injunctions of his father, crept all round 
 the Improvement, and once or twice nearly came into collision 
 with the negro and myself. He now returned to his father, 
 and, as he retreated, we advanced. There was a silence of a 
 minute or two. 
 
 " Well, did you see the half-breed?" inquired Abraham. 
 
 "No," was the reply; "something must have skeared him. 
 I have been all round." 
 
 " Skeared or not skeared," said the highwayman bitterly, 
 " the man who makes a fool of me had better not bring his 
 head within reach of my rifle-stock. There is nothing to be 
 done to-night, I see, so we had better face about. Put the 
 stake in its place, one of you." 
 
 "Now is your time, Blackfoot," whispered the captain in 
 the Indian's ear, as the squatter and his party began to move 
 away. Nickstick put his hands to his mouth, and once more 
 imitated the croak of a bull- frog. 
 
 Abraham paused, and said, "Hark! that is Solomon; stay 
 here, and, when you hear the next croak, follow up quickly, 
 and get to work." 
 
 With these words, the squatter threw the stake upon the 
 ground, and thrust his long body through the aperture. Cap- 
 tain Ramsay seized Abraham instantly by the throat, and 
 dragged him along toward the castle. The highwayman 
 struck out violently with his arms and heels, and cried loudly 
 for help. One of his sons put his head and shoulders through 
 the palisade, with the intention of rushing to the rescue, but 
 the negro wrenched the rifle from his grasp, and, striking the 
 young squatter with his fist, compelled him to retire. At the 
 same moment, Abraham's fusee was snatched from the ground 
 where it had been lying, and a ball whistled close past my ear. 
 
 R 
 
258 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 The flash betrayed our position; the discharge of two other 
 pieces quickly followed, and Poll Crake had one of his fingers 
 shot away. The struggle was over. The Blackfoot chief 
 remained to guard the palisade, and Twobears, Tom Fling, 
 and I, followed the captain, the negro, and their prisoner, into 
 the castle. 
 
 HEAP THE FORTY-FIFTH. 
 
 Abraham Thorn was put into the strong room that had 
 twice been the prison of Sapins. It was the captain's inten- 
 tion to keep the squatter's arms pinioned; upon the latter 
 promising to maintain a quiet demeanour, however, he was 
 unbound. But a watch was set upon him, and his fate was 
 left for consideration upon the morrow. 
 
 In the morning, I went with Twobears, to hear how Abra- 
 ham Thorn had conducted himself during the night. Tom 
 Fling and he were sitting face to face, abusing each other 
 roundly. They had come to blows, and there was a bruife 
 over the trapper's left eye. I turned an inquiring look upon, 
 him, and he pointed to the side of his prisoner's head, on which 
 a large gash was visible. I glanced around; several frag- 
 ments of clothing, and human hair clotted with blood, lay 
 upon the floor; and a bench had been dashed to atoms in 
 the struggle. 
 
 "I was weary, and began to nod," said the trapper: "you 
 may guess what followed. I thought you would have heard 
 us. Ah, captain, good morning to you." 
 
 "Abraham Thorn," said Captain Ramsay, who, accom- 
 panied by Nickstick and the wounded negro, had just joined 
 us, "your intentions last night were too apparent, and I have 
 suffered too many insults at your hands, to admit of my show- 
 ing you any mercy now. As long as you conducted yourself 
 quietly, you were tolerated in the Improvement, and your 
 secret was safe with me ; but now the case is otherwise, and I 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 259 
 
 have two things to offer you. Choose between them. You 
 shall either be taken from this place and shot at once, or, in 
 five days hence, I deliver you, a prisoner, into the keeping of 
 the authorities at Little Golgotha, the nearest settlement. 
 Speak!" 
 
 At the commencement of this brief but stern address, the 
 features of the squatter wore an expression of the greatest 
 insolence and contempt; by degrees that expression changed 
 to one of disappointed ferocity and revenge; and at length 
 into one of the most abject fear. He knew the character of 
 the man he had to deal with, and felt that dissimulation would 
 be useless. His face grew deadly pale, and he implored the 
 captain for the love of heaven not to carry his latter threat 
 into execution. 
 
 " On no account," cried the latter, warmly ; " I see that 
 you have yet some embers of the man about you. You shall 
 die the death of a soldier. Fling, load those two rifles quickly." 
 
 The terrified squatter threw himself upon his knees at the 
 feet of his stern judge. He howled for mercy. "Hear me!" 
 he shrieked, raising his clasped hands with a look of most 
 intense agony; "think of my wife think of my boys - 
 think " 
 
 "I have thought of them," returned the captain, with a 
 calm smile, " and it appears they also have thought of you, for 
 it is but a moment since one of them came to me, disclosed all 
 your plans, and begged that, now you were caught, I would 
 keep you fast. This is the fit state of a murderer and bully. 
 Away, cowardly dog ! your very touch is pollution. I have 
 said, and will do it." And, releasing himself from the grasp 
 of the wretched Abraham, Captain Ramsay beckoned the 
 trapper and myself to follow. 
 
 "Must you shoot the squatter?" asked I. 
 
 "No," replied he, bursting into a laugh; "a new idea has 
 occurred to me; we will let him go." 
 
 " As far as a good rifle will carry but no further," quickly 
 interposed Fling; "would you have your throat cut?" 
 
 " I will cut yours, if you interrupt me again," retorted the 
 
260 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 captain, taking the trapper playfully by the ear. "Listen. 
 You and your friend the Blackfoot go and deposit yourselves 
 with much ceremony in the canoe ; take your rifles ; take a day 
 or two's provisions, and paddle away in the direction of Little 
 Golgotha. When you are out of sight of Thorn's hut, however, 
 strike for the opposite shore, and, instead of going down the 
 river, carry your canoe up on the other side till you reach the 
 last rapid, then launch for Round Island, and stay there at least 
 eight-and-forty hours. Ask no questions, and leave the rest to 
 me. Begone!" 
 
 Fling and the Blackfoot whispered each other, and proposed 
 that I should add myself to the party. 
 
 " That interferes a little with my plans," said Captain Ram- 
 say ; " but no matter, the scenery is fine ; be it so, and mind you 
 bring me a fat buck." 
 
 Our arrangements were soon made. A few strips of dried 
 venison and bear's-meat were put into the canoe, as well as a 
 hatchet, a tent, a set of paddles, a fox-skin pouch, and our three 
 rifles. We then waved our hands, and pushed from shore. 
 
 The squatter's sons witnessed our embarkation, and it was 
 evident that they were drawing their own inferences from it. 
 The door of the hut was opened and closed sundry times, and 
 the whole party appeared to be in motion. We were delayed 
 a few minutes by the trapper, who sprung ashore to speak with 
 Hummingbird ; at length we were fairly afloat, and shot rapidly 
 away with the stream. 
 
 " Hugh !" cried Nickstick, nodding his head to Fling; "one 
 two three ! " 
 
 " True, boy," replied the trapper; "to cover, quick!" 
 
 I turned, and, glancing through the foliage, saw the three 
 sons of Abraham Thorn in hot pursuit of us. Nickstick seized 
 his rifle. 
 
 " No, no," cried Fling; " follow me, both." 
 
 He leaped to land, and, dragging the canoe after us, we hid 
 it and ourselves in the forest. The speed to which the young 
 squatters had urged their little craft, appeared to make the 
 river almost emit fire. They passed the spot of our conceal- 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 261 
 
 ment, paused, and held a consultation ; then gazed at the shore, 
 as though they doubted that we could have proceeded beyond 
 the spot; and finally darted away once more down the river. 
 We saw them pause a second time, and, standing upright, send 
 a glance down into the distance. In another moment a clurnp 
 of larch hid the party from our sight, and we commenced the 
 portage to the rapids above. 
 
 This portage was an extremely laborious one. We had a 
 deep ravine to cross, the sides of which were, in places, almost 
 perpendicular. In ascending the rugged barrier, the Blackfoot 
 chief lost his footing, and only saved himself by snatching at a 
 projecting branch, to which both the trapper and I had already 
 resorted for succour. By dint of much perseverance and ex- 
 treme agility, however, we at length accomplished the ascent, 
 and joyfully launched our canoe again, about half a mile above 
 the Improvement; when, concealment being no longer neces- 
 sary, we paddled carelessly up the stream, in the direction of 
 that lonely island to which Captain Ramsay had instructed us 
 to repair. 
 
 It was nearly sundown when we reached this beautiful spot, 
 and the sight of it instantly brought to my mind that sweet 
 song of Moore's beginning, " O had we some bright little isle 
 of our own." I quoted them to the trapper, and he commit- 
 ted them from my dictation to the leaves of a memorandum- 
 book, which he always carried about with him. Tom was by 
 no means the ablest of scribes, and the process of copying down 
 was protracted to a rather tedious length ; but it was at last 
 effected, and he returned the memorandum-book to his pocket, 
 with an air of the most profound satisfaction. Nickstick sur- 
 veyed the operation, and laughed. 
 
 "What is the matter, Blackfoot?" inquired the trapper, a 
 little piqued. 
 
 " Tink ebber read him?" asked the Indian, placidly. 
 
 It was in vain that his friend strove to face out this well- 
 timed sally, and we all laughed in concert. It was a notorious 
 fact that the trapper was in the habit of taking capacious 
 notes of matters that struck him, and was never able to de- 
 
262 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 cipher them afterwards. With the view of balancing the ac- 
 count with Nickstick, therefore, Fling inquired if the Black- 
 foot did not put me in rnind of Robinson Crusoe's man Friday, 
 who \vas a notorious coward ? 
 
 The Indian's cheek grew perfectly damask, and, putting his 
 hand hastily to his belt, he said, "Injin no coward. Bear 
 come out tree once 'tack Tom Fling. Injin turn squaw 
 run away, eh ? " 
 
 " No, rny good lad," returned the trapper, warmly, as he 
 seized the Blackfoot's hand ; " you knocked the bear on the 
 head, and saved my life at the risk of your own, like a gallant 
 fellow as you are. I was but joking." 
 
 " Good," replied Nickstick; "Injin and Tom Fling always 
 brudders. S'pose make fire now j cook venison ; see fall to- 
 morrow." 
 
 This was seasonable advice, and we followed it. I seized 
 the axe, and felled fuel; the Blackfoot pitched the tent, and 
 strewed it with sapins; and Fling, producing the provision- 
 bag, cut some twigs to toast the venison on. 
 
 " I shouldn't at all wonder now," said the trapper, as he 
 thrust three of these sticks into the ground, and curved them 
 over the flames " I shouldn't at all wonder if you were some 
 day to write a book, and put the Blackfoot and me in it. Ha, 
 ha, ha! what a figure I should cut in a book!" 
 
 The report of a rifle, within a yard of my head, caused me 
 to look round. Nickstick was lying flat on his face; the next 
 moment he was in the Madwaska, striking out towards a noble 
 buck which he had wounded. There was a short struggle; 
 the water grew crimson; and the Indian returned, towing the 
 carcass of the deer after him. 
 
 " A very neat piece of work indeed," said Fling, eyeing the 
 prize approvingly. "Look at this, friend Log; the redskin 
 has nearly severed the head from the body with that single 
 stroke of his knife, Was it not a scientific cut?" 
 
 " Very," said I, passing my hand involuntarily over my own 
 throat ; " he beats the Saracens." 
 
 " I would back him against Saladin himself," returned the 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 263 
 
 trapper, anxious to display his historical lore. " By the by, 
 have you read Scott's 'Talisman'?" 
 
 "Yes, when I was a boy; but you surprise me. Pray 
 have you a circulating library in the backwoods here, and do 
 you subscribe to it ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Explain." 
 
 " The captain." 
 
 " Ah, I forgot ; he is an astonishing man ; but I thought 
 you had little taste for study." 
 
 "Oh, much. I have read everything, from Plato on the 
 Immortality of the Soul, down to Swift's Tale of a Tub. The 
 captain and I translate Homer together." 
 
 "And do you think Homer the prince of poets?" 
 
 "Yes; but not a greater man than your Shakspere. There 
 are but three books to my thinking the Bible, the Iliad, and 
 the Plays. How that Blackfoot does eat, to be sure! Do 
 you know, I have seen him and Poll Crake get through the 
 haunch of a buck between them." 
 
 " Fast for half week bring berry good appetite," said the 
 Indian, laughing musically. " Injin and nigger eat one 
 haunch good ; capin and Tom Fling eat oder, and two 
 shoulders. See ! long stomach I " and the chief made a feint 
 of measuring the trapper's gastronomic capacity with his toma- 
 hawk ; a piece of jocularity which threw us all into another 
 fit of merriment. 
 
 A long silence succeeded. Nickstick had picked up my 
 rifle, and lay indolently examining it ; the trapper sat with 
 his arms folded, gazing pensively at the fire he was evidently 
 at the castle by the side of Hummingbird ; while I, leaning 
 my back blissfully against a huge cedar, watched the sun set 
 gloriously over the bison prairies of the west, though my 
 thoughts were wandering far away over the green forests, and 
 the blue deep beyond them. 
 
 The Indian was the first to renew the conversation. On 
 the stock of my rifle was a small silver plate, with my name 
 engraven upon it. This had not before met his eye. Had 
 
264 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 the object, instead of a little strip of metal, been the jewel 
 that glittered in the hilt of Bonaparte's sword, it could not 
 have afforded the unsophisticated chief more delight. 
 
 " How near to the eye of a moose, standing on yonder bank, 
 could you put a bullet, with that fusee of yours?" asked Fling, 
 rousing himself with an effort. 
 
 " Within an inch, perhaps," said I, sensible of my inferiority 
 as a sharpshooter. 
 
 " Could you hit a dollar at eighty paces?" 
 
 " I think so." 
 
 " You shall try, and I will hold it." 
 
 " And if I miss, you lose your hand, or your head." 
 
 " Very good ; let the Blackfoot hold it then," said Tom, com- 
 fortably. 
 
 Nickstick nodded, cut a twig of four inches in length, placed 
 a dollar in the cleft of it, and marched away over the island to 
 the distance specified. 
 
 "How much powder is there?" asked the trapper, watching 
 the operation of loading. I had drawn the old charge, and 
 was substituting a fresh one. 
 
 " Twelve grains ; but, as there is an extra thirty yards, I 
 shall make it thirteen." 
 
 " And I should advise you to try the second sight, for I see 
 you have three." 
 
 " No, I shall aim for the top rim of the piece, and the ball 
 will be true for the centre. Lend me your shoulder." 
 
 "What is the matter?" demanded he, finding me still hesi- 
 tate. 
 
 " You breathed, and had I fired, the chief would have lost 
 his ear. Ah, I have missed!" 
 
 "You will do better without a rest. See, Nickstick is signal- 
 ling that the bullet grazed the lower rim." 
 
 " Then fourteen grains will exactly do it." 
 
 There was a sharp ring, and the dollar was gone. This was 
 a very ordinary display of skill; any Indian boy or girl, of nine 
 years of age, could have done better. 
 
 I little suspected what was to be the sequel to the perfor- 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 265 
 
 mance. Nickstick walked quietly back to us, drew his toma- 
 hawk from his belt, felt the edge of it, and said, "Heap-of- 
 hair (for so he often called me) try him skill; berry good; 
 Injin try now." 
 
 The trapper gave a long shrill whistle. " I hardly expected 
 this," said he, in an under- tone to me ; " your courage will be 
 put to the proof, I can tell you." 
 
 " What is he going to do," said I; " tomahawk me?" 
 
 " Yes, if you stir hand or foot, or so much as wink your eye. 
 Keep cool; I have twice gone through the same thing. The 
 Blackfoot warriors often plague their prisoners in this way." 
 
 Nickstick, without speaking again, took my arm, and placed 
 me with my back to a stout tamarack; surveyed me; put my 
 head erect; made me fold my arms; and then, walking gravely 
 away to a distance of about thirty yards, faced about. 
 
 " If his foot slips, you will have your cheek laid bare, or your 
 skull split open," cried the trapper; " put a good face on it; 
 you have no idea how well you look there! Don't laugh 
 keep your visage as narrow as possible." 
 
 I was not left longer in suspense. Nickstick gave an appal- 
 ling whoop, flourished his tomahawk, and the next moment 
 the cold steel rested against my right cheek. It was buried to 
 the eye in the tree. I wrenched it out, and returned it to the 
 chief, who smiled, and said he had hoped to frighten me. I did 
 not tell him how effectually he had done so. 
 
 HEAP THE FORTY-SIXTH. 
 
 The trapper and Blackfoot had been long abroad when I 
 awoke the next morning. They had shot another deer, and 
 were dragging it up the beach. Tom had important news for 
 me. A canoe, paddled by a red man and his squaw, had passed 
 them a few minutes previously. He said that it was the first 
 time he had encountered any human creature in those wilds; and 
 the circumstance was the subject of much surprise and conjee- 
 
266 WHITTLINGS FKOM THE WEST. 
 
 turs. The probability was, that the stranger pair belonged to 
 a tribe settled a great distance north of the Madwaska, and 
 were on their way down to the settlements. 
 
 "Did you speak with them?" I asked. 
 
 "No, i'faith," said Fling; "luckily they did not see us; the 
 captain is not anxious to form any new acquaintances. Come, 
 we will take a survey of the island presently; let us now to 
 breakfast." 
 
 Thus saying, we threw ourselves down in front of the roar- 
 ing fire I had prepared, and despatched our frugal meal, which 
 consisted of juicy venison-steak, and some excellent bread, of 
 the fair Hummingbird's own baking. 
 
 Our repast finished, Fling shouldered his rifle, and led the 
 way over Round Island, whose beauties he certainly had not 
 exaggerated. A lovelier spot I never beheld. Although en- 
 tirely indebted to Nature for all its charms, it wore an appear- 
 ance of having been laid out as a pleasure-ground; there was 
 miniature hill, valley, rock, and glen; and, on one of its sides, 
 the most exquisite little bay imaginable. Here and there, too, 
 as we strolled along, a break in the forest foliage would afford 
 us a glimpse of the sleeping river, which, lit up by the morning 
 sun, looked like a stream of liquid gold. It was near one of 
 these beautiful openings, which commanded a view of the Mad- 
 waska and its opposite shores, that the trapper paused, and 
 proposed to rest awhile. I willingly acquiesced, for I was glad 
 of an opportunity of feasting my gaze upon the scenery. When 
 I turned to make some observation to the trapper, however, he 
 was nowhere to be seen ; nor was Nickstick. Under the sup- 
 position that they were about to play me some trick, I sprang 
 to my feet, and began to search for the place of their conceal- 
 ment. Close behind me stood a high, cavernous rock, but the 
 entrance was so dark, that I was obliged to grope my way in 
 very cautiously. I then sprinkled a few grains of gunpowder, 
 in the form of a train, along the ground, and fired it with my 
 rifle. In a moment the whole cave was illuminated, and at 
 the further extremity I caught a glimpse of two tall figures ; 
 but there was a broad chasm between us, and my only method 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 267 
 
 of crossing it seemed to be by means of a horrible ledge, which 
 was not more than eight inches in width, and offered but a 
 precarious footing. I had just time to see this, then all became 
 darkness again, and I heard my two friends laugh. 
 
 " Come on," said the trapper, banteringly. 
 
 "I am coming," returned I, not willing to be outdone in 
 dexterity ; and once more I resorted to my hands and knees. 
 
 " Stay," shouted he, quickly, " there is but one way of doing 
 it;" and I heard him knock something against the rock. The 
 cavern again became illuminated, but by a light so glaring 
 that I was obliged to cover my eyes. 
 
 " Be ready," said Tom, " this will not last above a minute. 
 Go back a few paces, to gather an impetus, then run right 
 along ; you will not have time to fall ; don't iix your eyes on 
 the ledge look straight at me." 
 
 I did as I was desired, made six or eight quick steps, and 
 came with great violence against the opposite side of the cavern. 
 The light had deceived me as to the distance. 
 
 "Are you hurt?" asked the trapper. " You have managed 
 it very cleverly; keep this way ah, the portfire is exhausted;" 
 and once more we were in utter darkness. 
 
 " What think you of our cave ?" said Fling ; " I believe the 
 merit of its discovery, if there be any, rests with myself. In 
 case of need such as being beset by Indians or Yankees 
 we could all quit Butternut, and secret ourselves here. I defy 
 the devil himself to cross that gulf in safety. We could pick 
 them off as neatly as possible, and, even in the event of their 
 crossing, there are two other caves branching away to the right 
 and left, and the passes to them are so narrow, that two deter- 
 mined fellows, with axes, might slay a hundred men, without 
 receiving so much as a scratch in return. But I have no 
 more blue lights, so, as we can't explore any further, let us 
 get back. As soon as your eyes have got the better of the 
 glare, you will see a faint ray of light, from outside, gleaming 
 along the top of the ledge; this must guide you now. Be 
 cautious!" 
 
 "And whither does this frightful chasm lead?" asked I. 
 
2G8 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 "To the infernal regions, for aught I know," replied the 
 trapper ; and he had crossed the dangerous ledge. 
 
 Nickstick was the next. " No stop, thinkee," whispered 
 he; "bad footing for feet; take plenty run;" and he was 
 gone too. 
 
 "Are you ready?" said the trapper, from the other side. 
 " Do you see light upon the ledge ? keep straight along it, and 
 you are safe ; take four steps off, and start with your right 
 foot; mind, your right foot!" 
 
 " Tell me the width of the gulf." 
 
 " Full fourteen feet." 
 
 " Then I will leap it clear the way!" I took a spring. I 
 felt a severe pain in my right shoulder ; my brain grew dizzy; 
 I seemed to be ploughing rapidly through water, and my senses 
 left me. At least twenty minutes must have elapsed before I 
 recovered them. The earnest and tremulous voice of the 
 trapper was the first thing that roused me. 
 
 " Where are you, and how?" cried the good-natured fellow. 
 " Speak, and that quickly, or I shall break my neck in getting 
 at you." 
 
 " Here," replied I, with an attempt to laugh ; " my shoulder's 
 broken, and my head too, I fancy, for the blood is flowing in 
 torrents from my temple." 
 
 " Bind your neck-handkerchief round it. Nickstick is tear- 
 ing up the tent, and making it into a rope. Here he comes; 
 tie it under your arms, and we will pull you up." 
 
 I felt the rope touch my face, fastened it round my body, 
 and got upon my feet, but slipped, and fell another yard, 
 nearly dragging the Indian and trapper down upon me. 
 Presently I found myself depending in air, and the loud 
 breathing of rny two friends above told me how they were 
 exerting themselves in my behalf. I grappled a projecting 
 portion of rock, and found a place to rest my foot upon ; this 
 was a relief to them, and shortly afterwards I was borne 
 between the pair into the welcome light of day. 
 
 My forehead was severely -cut, and my face and breast were 
 covered with blood. Nickstick made a plaster of some bruised 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 269 
 
 leaves, and applying it to my wound, bound a handkerchief 
 over all, with a gentleness and skill that Avould have done 
 credit to any young student at St Bartholomew's. Fling, 
 meantime, raised my arm, and listened for a " crepitus." No 
 crepitus was audible, so the limb was pronounced sound, and 
 in its proper position. My shoulder was very painful, how- 
 ever, and I remained a comparative cripple for several 
 days. 
 
 In the evening Nickstick removed the leaf plaster he had 
 applied to my shoulder, and substituted another. As he per- 
 formed this friendly operation, I sat with my eyes fixed on the 
 opposite shore of the river, I had twice caught a glimpse of 
 an object stealing along the bank. The young chief marked 
 the earnest expression of my features, and bent his own glance 
 in the same direction. 
 
 " Tink him see something?" said Nickstick, stretching his 
 hand slowly towards his rifle, which leaned against a tree 
 hard by. 
 
 " Yes, look yonder ! it may be the stump of a rotten pine, 
 but it is very like a bear." 
 
 The Blackfoot muttered his wonted " Hugh," and running 
 towards the canoe, seized a paddle. Fling joining him, snatched 
 up another, and away they dashed, leaving a streak of foam 
 in their wake like the tail of a shooting star. The bear, how- 
 ever, had scented us, and began to make off. Crack ! Crack ! 
 went the two firelocks of the young backwoodsmen, and a long, 
 deep growl proclaimed the success of the volley. The impe- 
 tuous trapper did not wait for the canoe to touch land, but 
 leaped out into the stream, and scrambled up the river's bank, 
 re-loading his piece as he went. His comrade was not a whit 
 less nimble, and together, pursuers and pursued, with an odd 
 intermixture of whoop, bellow, and crashing of pine branches, 
 buried themselves in the forest. In about twenty minutes the 
 hunters re-appeared, carrying the carcass of the bear (which 
 was a young one) between them. 
 
 " I would give a trifle to have killed that bear," said I, as 
 the canoe, laden with the spoil, struck the pebbles at my feet. 
 
270 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 " He is yours," quickly returned Fling, " to do what you 
 please with. Blackfoot, you hear?" 
 
 " Good," said the chief; " plenty of bears for Injin." 
 
 " Ay, but I can't accept him, my friends." 
 
 " Ah, I see," cried Nickstick, with an intelligent look ; 
 " wanted skin to stuff, and put glass eye in, like capin, and 
 stick up in wigwam in old country, to please squaw. S'pose 
 him point at it, den pat head of little papoose, and say, ' Massa 
 fader shoot dot bear!' berry good guess eh?" 
 
 " Yes, that's it," replied I, as the trapper and I awoke the 
 echoes with our mirth. 
 
 "Much sorry, den, no kill dat bear," muttered the chief; 
 " neber mind, see nodder'in two, tree day kill him;" and with 
 this assurance, the Blackfoot began to skin and cut up his 
 prize. 
 
 HEAP THE FORTY-SEVENTH. 
 
 No event worthy of record occurred on our journey back to 
 the Improvement. We killed no more deer, and saw no more 
 bears, nor did we overtake or meet with the red man and his 
 squaw who passed down the river the morning after we 
 reached Round Island. It was sundown when we shot the 
 rapids above Butternut, and stepped ashore. The gate of the 
 palisades, much to our surprise, was open, and so was the 
 entrance to the castle. The captain's dog, Diver, was the first 
 to welcome us; he thrust his nose into each of our hands by 
 turn, and then bounded away to report our arrival. We were 
 soon met by the captain himself, Hummingbird, Tvvobears, 
 and Poll Crake, who gave us joyful greeting, and expressed 
 themselves anxious to hear how we had contrived to pass the 
 two days of our sojourn at Eound Island. 
 
 "And you have encountered no strange faces on your 
 travels, I suppose?" inquired the captain, as soon as Tom 
 Fling had recounted our adventures. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 271 
 
 No yes ; by the by, I had nearly forgotten the circum- 
 stance two redskins, a chief and his squaw, who paddled by 
 us the morning after we left you; they did not see us, how- 
 ever, and evidently were bound for the settlements." 
 
 Captain Ramsay looked concerned, and reaching down a 
 large map, examined it attentively. 
 
 " But what of Abraham?" said the trapper; " come, we are 
 anxious to hear." 
 
 " The highwayman and his sons are gone, and their hut is 
 in ashes," replied Twobears, who had quite recovered from the 
 effects of his wound. " We shall never see him or them again. 
 They left their kind compliments for you all, and regretted 
 their inability to take an affectionate leave of each in person." 
 
 " Let us have the whole of the particulars, if you please," 
 said Fling, sitting down, and taking the hand of Humming- 
 bird in a sly and secret manner ; " and do not be so lavish of 
 your flowers of speech. You quite bewilder the chief here, 
 who looks as unconcerned as an old pine stump, though he is 
 by far the most curious of the three. Now." 
 
 "No hut no Abraham no squaw no papooses," said 
 Nickstick, quietly ; " good ; capin clear eye wise head?" 
 
 "The Blackfoot is right," said Twobears; "listen. The 
 moment you stepped into the canoe that day, and paddled off 
 down the river, three of Thorn's sons, supposing (as we wished 
 and expected them to do) that you were bound for the settle- 
 ments, and meant to bring a party back, gave chase, and, had 
 they got up with you, ten to one but there would have been a 
 great waste of gunpowder and lead. By and by, their search 
 proving unsuccessful, they came back in a fury, and tried to 
 chop a way through the palisades. The were so fierce and 
 persevering, indeed, in the effort, that we were obliged to sally 
 out upon them, and Sapins was seriously wounded in the 
 struggle. They then beat a retreat, and kept on the watch, 
 hoping that some of us would expose ourselves at the loops, or 
 about the logs in front but we knew better. The next day 
 they grew civil, and came with a white handkerchief tied to 
 a ramrod, as a signal for a parley. They leaned their rifles 
 
272 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 against a tree, and walked right up to the palisade-gate. The 
 captain and Poll Crake went out to meet them. Peter, the 
 tallest of the squatter's sons, said, that, providing Abraham 
 were released, they would forget their wounds, abandon their 
 hut, and quit the Improvement for ever. To this seductive 
 proposition the captain replied, by observing that, as they had 
 already broken faith so often, he could put no confidence in any- 
 thing they said, and in two days their father would be delivered 
 into the hands of the government-officers, who were now on 
 their way up from Little Golgotha for the purpose of effecting 
 his arrest. At the close of this intimation the three squatters 
 indignantly tore up their flag, and began to move away in the 
 direction of the hut; but the moment the captain's back was 
 turned, they ran to the spot where they had left their rifles. 
 Suspecting treachery, I shouted, to put my father on his guard. 
 It was too late, and a bullet grazed his side. The hunchback, 
 hearing the noise, limped out from the hut, and, sinking upon 
 one knee, was just in the act of levelling his fusee, when I 
 seized mine, and drove a ball right through his brain. His 
 three brothers jumped nimbly into cover, and we saw no more 
 of them. Night having come, according to previous agree- 
 ment between the captain and Poll Crake, the negro, as if by 
 oversight, left the highwayman for a while, and dropped a 
 rope within his reach. The next minute we heard Abraham 
 fall from the window to the ground beneath, and afterwards 
 tumble over the palisade, and rush along the clearing. The 
 morning after, the squatter and his whole party were gone, 
 and by this time, anticipating pursuit, are perhaps a hundred 
 miles distant in the wilderness. Aliens ! you are hungry, and 
 supper smokes on the board I" 
 
 HEAP THE FORTY-EIGHTH. 
 
 As yet I had seen comparatively nothing of Butternut and 
 the surrounding country; but every impediment to such pe- 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 273 
 
 rambulations being now removed, the captain took me the 
 round of his Improvement, and appeared very much to enjoy 
 the surprise and delight I manifested upon witnessing so many 
 proofs of his skill and perseverance. 
 
 " This is all the work of Twobears, Poll Crake, and myself," 
 said he. "We were five years in completing the castle; another 
 in erecting this shed and the barn whose ruins you see yonder; 
 another in fixing the palisades; and upwards of ten more in 
 effecting the necessary clearings, and cultivating the patches 
 of land that are visible around you. I made a resolution, 
 when I first arrived here, to fell a certain number of trees 
 daily, and perform a proper portion of other useful work. 
 None of us have been idle, and these are the fruits of our 
 labours. But you seem curious what puzzles you?" 
 
 " I can understand all that you have told me," said I, " but 
 am at a loss to guess whence you procured your horses, and 
 oxen, and sheep. You could not drive cattle through a forest, 
 and it is absurd to suppose you could have brought them 
 hither in a canoe." 
 
 "And yet the canoe brought them all, when they were no 
 bigger than Diver there. They have multiplied but slowly, 
 however, and Thorn has lately killed three of my finest bulls. 
 You shall back that spirited bay mare to-morrow, and Nick- 
 stick and Fling shall show you some diversion. But they are 
 wild fellows when mounted, and, if the Blackfoot takes the 
 lead, I fear your neck will be in jeopardy. Heyday ! what is 
 that floating down the river?" 
 
 " A canoe," cried Twobears, shading his eyes from the sun. 
 
 " A stick of timber from the rapids above, more likely," 
 said the trapper. 
 
 " Can it be one of our own canoes got adrift?" asked the 
 captain. 
 
 As we were speaking, the notes of a bugle resounded 
 through the woods. It was a signal from Butternut, and 
 thither, with some curiosity depicted in our features, we all 
 returned. 
 
 There had been two arrivals during our absence the 
 
 s 
 
274 WIIITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 Indian and his squaw, the identical pair whom Fling, the 
 Blackfoot, and I had encountered up at Round Island. They 
 were sitting close together upon the captain's favourite couch, 
 and looking about them with an air of suppressed wonder and 
 gratification. 
 
 " The red man and his wife are welcome," said Captain 
 Ramsay, taking each of them by the hand. "They have 
 come a long way, and would eat venison with their white 
 brethren. Is it so?" 
 
 "Hugh!" said the Indian; " Yellowblankethas not seen the 
 faces of pale people for three winters. He has been hunting 
 upon the lakes above, and is going to the settlements to sell 
 his skins. The Greyhair will give Bluebead a, night's lodging, 
 and, if he has any skins to part with, Yellowblanket will buy 
 them." 
 
 "Why has the Yellowblanket stained his face, and called him- 
 self a red-skin ?" asked Nickstick, suddenly, in broken French. 
 
 The eye of the stranger gleamed with hideous ferocity, as 
 he replied, " I have spoken Yellowblanket does not lie." 
 
 "He does!" retorted the young chief, angrily. "Are Indians 
 half one colour and half another, like a woodpecker?" 
 
 The eyes of the pretended red-skin fell under the gaze 
 which this altercation immediately drew upon him, and he 
 spoke a word cr two to his squaw, who darted a tiger-like 
 glance at the Blackfoot. 
 
 " Come, let us be friends," interposed the captain, as Poll 
 Crake brought in some refreshments for the disconcerted pair. 
 "Eat, and let no bitter words pass between us. Hand out the 
 rum bottle, Poll; we must make amends for this breach of 
 hospitality." 
 
 Yellowblanket, who was eating the venison without the aid 
 of a fork, instantly desisted from that occupation when he 
 heard the word "rum," and his eyes gleamed again, though 
 with a far different expression from the one they had before 
 assumed. He tossed off the proffered liquor with great eager- 
 ness, and then filled again for his squaw, who signalled for 
 more. 
 
WHITTLINGS FKOM THE WEST. 275 
 
 "No, no; not now by and by," said Captain Ramsay; 
 and Bluebead, nodding her head pleasantly, echoed, " Good 
 by urn by." 
 
 The captain then took me by the arm, and together we 
 left the room, leaving the trapper and Hummingbird to per- 
 form the honours of the table. Upon our return, we found 
 the rum bottle quite empty. 
 
 "Fling, you are much to blame for this," cried the captain, 
 with a little irritability; then, in spite of his choler, he sat down 
 and laughed, for the eyes of the red man and his wife were 
 fixed upon vacancy, and they were both making ludicrous 
 efforts to maintain an upright position upon their seats. After 
 a few ineffectual struggles of this nature, the pair measured 
 their lengths upon the floor, and Mr Crake, with many grins, 
 dragged them out by the heels. They slept till an early hour 
 the next morning, and left the Improvement before daybreak. 
 A few hours after they had taken their departure, and just 
 as Nickstick, the trapper, and I were about to mount our horses, 
 Poll Crake ran to us, and, pointing. into the forest, said that he 
 had seen a wolf prowling about, a minute previously, within a 
 hundred yards of where we stood; so we darted back into the 
 castle for our rifles. I could not find mine, and the silver 
 powder-flask Twobears had lent me was missing. Every likely 
 spot was searched and re-searched, but still the rifle and flask 
 were not forthcoming. 
 
 "My rifle! my English rifle!" cried I, running hither and 
 thither frantically. 
 
 "My flask! my silver powder-flask!" shouted Twobears; 
 " where is it? what has become of it?" 
 
 " Ah, I see it all t" said I, biting my lip with rage. " Yellow- 
 blanket has them both." 
 
 I snatched a brace of loaded pistols from a side-table, and 
 rushed down to the canoe. The canoe was gone also. She 
 had been scuttled. There was another in the castle, and I went 
 for it, but met Nickstick with it on his head. Twobears came 
 running after, with a pair of paddles, a hatchet, and the tinder- 
 pouch, and, launching quickly, away we dashed in the direction 
 
276 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 of Little Golgotha. The captain stood laughing upon the 
 bank, calling out that a stern chase was a long chase, and shak- 
 ing his grey head in a manner that irritated us exceedingly. 
 
 " Take your time ! take your time, friend Log," cried Two- 
 bears; " we shall pounce upon them before sundown. Yonder 
 red-skin will not hurry himself the rascal thinks we have only 
 one canoe, and doesn't calculate on a pursuit." 
 
 " If they once take to the woods," said I, " we may hunt for 
 them till doomsday." 
 
 " No, no; they will keep to the river, depend on it; they are 
 too heavily laden with skins to make more portages than are 
 absolutely necessary. Besides, their canoe is large, and cannot 
 be carried without a great deal of trouble, nor will a handful 
 of leaves hide it. We shall catch them presently, be sure. 
 What say you, Nickstick?" 
 
 The Blackfoot nodded his head appreciatingly, and fixed his 
 eye upon the shore. There was the print of a footstep upon 
 the sand, and we paused to examine it. 
 
 " Have they taken to the woods, then, after all ?" asked Two- 
 bears of the chief. 
 
 "No," said Nickstick. " See !" and he showed us another 
 mark, which had evidently been produced by the point of 
 Yellowblanket's paddle, as he pushed off again into the stream ; 
 but we continued to bend watchful eyes upon the shore on either 
 side of us, in expectation of finding the spot on which the red 
 man and his wife had kindled a fire, and cooked their breakfast. 
 At length, however, the banks of the river became compara- 
 tively fiat and barren ; and, as there was no probability of 
 Yellowblanket's having paused where there was no cover, we 
 pushed rapidly forward until the woods once more sloped down 
 to the very water's edge. 
 "Hugh!" cried Nickstick. 
 
 "How long have they been gone from here, think you?" 
 asked Twobears, as we all three jumped ashore. 
 
 " One hour likely two hour more likely," replied the Indian, 
 laying the back of his hand upon the heap of ashes, which were 
 still warm. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 277 
 
 Again we saw the print of the paddle-point, and again we 
 eagerly renewed the chase. 
 
 At sundown, we came to one of those dangerous rapids in 
 which some parts of the Madwaska abound, and the canoe took 
 a leap that would have done no discredit to a flying deer. It 
 was so sudden and swift, that the young hunter, Nickstick, and 
 I were all dashed violently against each other, and, for a mo- 
 ment or two, stood in some jeopardy of our lives. But, thanks 
 to the dexterity of Nickstick, the little bark quickly righted 
 again, and we slid smoothly away into the still water below. 
 
 " Don't tell me that Yellowblanket, with his big canoe and 
 heavy load of skins, had the impudence to face that shute," 
 cried Twobears, looking back with a flushed cheek. " You are 
 too rash, chief; we should have made a portage." 
 
 "Hugh!" exclaimed Nickstick, 
 
 As he spoke, we rounded a little green promontory; but, be- 
 fore I had time to send a glance down into the distance beyond, 
 the young chief had brought the head of our frail bark to land, 
 and, leaping nimbly out, beckoned me to follow him. I obeyed 
 with alacrity, and in silence. 
 
 "What is it, boy?" inquired Twobears; "I saw nothing." 
 
 " Smell nothing, eh?" asked Nickstick, making a queer noise 
 with his nostrils. " He! he!" 
 
 " He is right; there is smoke in the wind," said the hunter; 
 and then (or it was fancy) / smelt smoke also. We concealed 
 the canoe among the overhanging bushes, and, the Blackfoot 
 having taken the lead, crawled slowly after him through the 
 forest. Presently we heard the crackling of twigs and the 
 sound of voices. The red man and his wife were at hand. 
 Nickstick and Twobears threw themselves on their faces, and I 
 imitated their example. Yellowblanket and Bluebead had j ust 
 despatched their evening meal. The former had begun to 
 smoke a tomahawk pipe, and the latter was sitting in a very 
 unpicturesque attitude, with her head between her hands. We 
 stole noiselessly on, and seated ourselves so closely behind them, 
 that I could have laid my finger upon the red man's shoulder. 
 He continued to smoke and gaze unsuspiciously upon the river; 
 
278 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 now and then addressing a word to his squaw, and indulging in 
 a little musical laugh, the purport of which I did not clearly 
 comprehend. Tvvobears looked at Nickstick, and nodded. 
 "Hugh!" muttered the Blackfoot. 
 
 Yellowblanket turned his head quickly. For a moment he 
 was speechless; then, recovering his presence of mind, and 
 without in any way altering his position, he said, " It is well. 
 I am glad. Yellowblanket ate venison with the Greyhair, 
 and now the Greyhair's sons would eat venison with Yellow- 
 blanket." 
 
 " Our friend has two faces," replied Nickstick, with a search- 
 ing glance; " why did he steal the pale man's fusee from the 
 wigwam of the white chief?" 
 
 The eyes of the Indian opened with admirably counterfeited 
 surprise, and he said, " My young brother talks in riddles, let 
 him speak what all can understand." 
 
 " Dog of a red-skin, then," shouted Twobears, springing to 
 his feet, and cocking his pistol, " give back the rifle and pow- 
 der-flask." 
 
 " Is Yellowblanket a thief? does he lie ? " 
 " Go and ransack their canoe, boy," cried Twobears to 
 Nickstick. " Bundle all their skins into the water we have 
 not come here to bandy words." 
 
 The expressive features of Yellowblanket underwent a 
 change, and he glanced uneasily at Bluebead. 
 
 " There it is," said I, suddenly, " the squaw is sitting on it 
 I can see the form of the stock under the blanket;" and, 
 bounding forward, I drew the missing weapon to light. 
 
 " So much for the fusee," said Twobears ; " now for the 
 powder-flask." 
 
 Bluebead exchanged another look with her husband, then 
 glanced at Nickstick, and the depredations he was about to 
 commit among their property, and at length produced the 
 coveted bauble from her bosom. 
 
 "There is something else; I can read it in the villain's 
 eye," cried Twobears; "but never mind. Allons! we have 
 despatched our errand." 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 279 
 
 Nickstick replaced the contents of the canoe; leaped to our 
 side ; and merrily re-embarking, we turned our faces towards 
 Butternut. 
 
 HEAP THE FORTY-NINTH. 
 
 The night being far advanced, before we had proceeded three 
 leagues on our homeward course, we found it necessary to 
 camp. We did not arrive at the castle, therefore, until the 
 next evening. The captain received us with a pleasant smile 
 and rather sceptical air, which evidently implied that he be- 
 lieved the journey to have been made to no purpose; and he 
 was proportionately gratified when he learned that we had been 
 successful in recovering our missing property. He then in- 
 formed us, with a fit of laughter, that, in addition to the other 
 articles, Yellow blanket had purloined an old regimental jacket, 
 a brazen dog-collar, a pair of boots, and a faded water-colour 
 portrait of his Grace the Duke of Wellington. "But n'irn- 
 porte," cried the merry veteran, "you have recovered your 
 rifle, and I am quite satisfied to be the sole loser on the occa- 
 sion. Let us not, however, do the Indian race the injustice of 
 supposing that Yellowblanket was a true red- skin, who would 
 not stoop to a theft: the cunning varlet was most probably a 
 French trader, who had disgraced himself in some way, and 
 been compelled to fly into the woods. Come, you have inter- 
 rupted our festivities. Twobears, take your banjo, and sing for 
 us. Fling and Hummingbird have done their parts already." 
 
 Twobears took a queer-looking instrument, something re- 
 sembling a fat battledore, from a corner, passed his fingers 
 once or twice over the strings, and, calling up a pensive expres- 
 sion of countenance, warbled the following plaintive ditty: 
 
 Where art thou now, Fanny? where dost thou stray? 
 Dost thou think upon him who is far, far away? 
 Though another, a dearer, that bosom should fill, 
 heave a soft sigh to my memory still ! 
 
280 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 When we parted, how sad was your effort to smile: 
 And how strangely your little hand trembled the while ! 
 When you bade me adieu, there was grief in the tone, 
 And I saw that your heart was as full as my own ! 
 
 Light, light be that heart, Fanny; sunny that brow; 
 And your bosom still trusting and artless as now; 
 May it never by pain or by sorrow be wrung, 
 And its hopes be as gay as the songs that you sung ! 
 
 Do you ever look back to that calm summer's night, 
 When we wander'd along in the mellow moonlight, 
 And the peaceful Mohawk roll'd as silently by 
 As the tear I have sometimes seen fall from your eye 1 ? 
 
 Where art thou now, Fanny 1 ? where dost thou stray] 
 Dost thou think upon him who is far, far away 1 
 Though another, a dearer, thy bosom should fill, 
 heave a soft sigh to my memory still ! 
 
 " I know the air, for it is one of my own composition ; but 
 pray what words are these?" asked the captain, the moment 
 the song had come to a close : " I have not heard them before, 
 Twobears." 
 
 "I must refer you to our friend Log, here," replied the 
 hunter, replacing the banjo in the corner, with much gravity. 
 " They were composed expressly for myself, and are only to be 
 sung upon extraordinary occasions." 
 
 " Ah, then I have a task here that will be quite to your taste," 
 said the captain, producing an old manuscript music-book, and 
 rattling over the leaves impatiently. " I want some words ar- 
 ranged to this air. But stay, can you read this?" 
 
 "Not a note of it," said I; for to me these words had been 
 addressed. 
 
 "Humph, that is a pity; well, never mind, you understand 
 time, I suppose?" I shook my head. " Well it can't be helped. 
 See, that is a semibreve, and you count four to it; that is a 
 minim, and you count two; that is a crotchet, and you count 
 one. One semibreve equals two minims and four crotchets. 
 Very good; then there are quavers, and semiquavers, and demi- 
 semiquavers. A quaver is half the length of a crotchet, and 
 twice the length of a semiquaver; while one semiquaver is 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 281 
 
 equal to two demisemiquavers; consequently, as there are two 
 semiquavers to a quaver, and two quavers to a crotchet, two 
 crotchets to a minim, and two minims to a semibreve, one 
 semibreve must equal thirty-two demisemiquavers; must it 
 not? Do you comprehend this?" 
 
 "Oh! perfectly." 
 
 " Good; now, what is that?" 
 
 " A crotchet." 
 
 "No, that is a minim never mind, what is that?" 
 
 "A minim." 
 
 " No, that is a crotchet." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 "And what is the next?" 
 
 " A semibreve." 
 
 " No, a quaver n'importe, try and point out a semiquaver." 
 
 " There." 
 
 " Oh dear, no, that is nothing at all, a mere rest;" and here 
 there was such a burst of merriment from the whole party, who 
 were looking over my shoulder, that the good-natured captain, 
 though he looked angry at first, was obliged to sit down and 
 add his own merriment to the rest; and it was eventually ar- 
 ranged, that, as I did not bid fair to prove a very promising 
 pupil, I was to be supplied with a verse of the same measure 
 with that which the captain required, and compose something 
 that would contain a similar number of feet and accents. 
 ####### 
 
 " Come, the horses are waiting for us," cried Fling, as he 
 overtook me in the forest the next day. " We will have a 
 grand scamper through the woods, and 'up to the Little Bear 
 Lake." 
 
 Nickstick was already mounted, and a more picturesque 
 horseman I never beheld. He had a scarlet handkerchief bound 
 round his head, and two or three eagle's feathers stuck cross- 
 wise through his shining scalplock. I had donned a closely- 
 fitting cloth cap for the occasion; but Hummingbird bade me 
 remove it, and speedily substituted a similar ornament to that 
 which decorated the brow of the chief. The trapper and I 
 
282 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 then leaped to the backs of our steeds, and, Nickstick taking 
 the lead, away we went. 
 
 About fifty yards in advance stood an old decayed tree, one 
 of whose gigantic arms stretched right across the path we were 
 about to pursue. The top of the branch was about six feet 
 from the ground, and I expected to see Nickstick go"to one 
 side of so formidable an impediment to our procedure. Not 
 so ; he cleared it with perfect ease, and I soon found myself 
 and horse flying over also. The captain and Hummingbird, 
 who had waited for the purpose of witnessing this exhibition 
 of equestrian agility, then waved their hands to us, and were 
 lost to our sight. 
 
 Our way, for some distance, lay direct through the forest, 
 along a narrow sort of alley, which (the occasional occupation 
 of nearly fifteen years) had been hewn through it by the 
 indefatigable captain, Twobears, and Poll Crake. This path 
 brought us to an extent of wild barren land, something re- 
 sembling afire-swept prairie; after crossing which, we again 
 picked our way through a patch of forest (our horses jumping 
 cleverly over fallen trees and every other obstacle), and found 
 ourselves in a rocky glen, that appeared at some distant day 
 to have been the bed of a small river. The bones of several 
 large deer were scattered about, and Nickstick, with a grim 
 smile, pointed to the skull of a wolf, which had most probably 
 fallen a prey to some of his own party. The road along this 
 ravine was so rugged that we were compelled to dismount. 
 At length we arrived at the foot of a commanding hill, from 
 whose top we obtained a sublime view of the surrounding 
 country. The Little Bear Lake, our destination, lay just 
 beneath us. 
 
 " Do you not breathe with greater freedom, and does not 
 your heart beat more proudly, to know that you are gazing 
 over a soil which has never been polluted by the tread of 
 human feet?" asked the trapper, with his nostril dilating like 
 that of some proud war-horse that smelt the battle, and his 
 dark curls sporting in the fresh mountain air. " How can 
 men herd together in cities, when, like children of nature, it 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 283 
 
 is in their power to enjoy the wild delights of a paradise like 
 this?" 
 
 We descended the hill, tethered our steeds to some adjacent 
 saplings, and walked leisurely down to the shore of the smooth 
 sheet of water before us. It reminded me strongly of Lake 
 St Charles, near Lorette, though the banks that overhang the 
 latter are far less precipitous and picturesque. We sat our- 
 selves down upon a little knoll of soft turf; there was an 
 instant commotion among a group of weeds that waved over 
 the liquid mirror beneath us, and the golden armour of some 
 fresh-water leviathan flashed in the mellow sunlight. The 
 bosom of the lake appeared to heave, and the little waves, 
 running up, almost kissed our feet. 
 
 We remained more than an hour to feast our gaze upon the 
 tranquil beauties of the scene; then, taking each his horse by 
 the bridle, began to move back in the direction of Butternut. 
 
 " What is that?" I asked, pointing to a little green mound 
 of earth at a short distance from us. 
 
 The trapper paused, and surveyed it attentively. Nick- 
 stick looked at it also, and advancing slowly, motioned me to 
 follow. 
 
 " Is it not strange that neither you nor I should ever have 
 seen this till now?" said Fling to the young chief. " What 
 do you believe it to be? Ah, I understand. You think that 
 there has one day been a great battle fought here, and the 
 bones of slain warriors lie sleeping beneath." 
 
 "Hugh!" replied Nickstick, retiring several yards, and 
 folding his arms reverently upon his bosom; "their spirits 
 hover near!" 
 
 " Lead the horses on, boy," said the trapper, " and we will 
 join ycu presently." 
 
 "No!" responded Nickstick, guessing the other's intention, 
 for he was anxious to satisfy his curiosity respecting the con- 
 tents of the green hillock; "we are men, and not dogs, to 
 harm the dead let the ashes of our buried fathers rest in 
 peace. Nickstick has spoken;" and the young warrior placed 
 himself resolutely between us and the sacred mound. 
 
284 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 The trapper, who had the spirit and impetuosity of a lion, 
 and could not brook this quiet remonstrance, advanced with a 
 determined air, and looking steadily in the face of the red youth, 
 bade him move from the spot. Nickstick's dilating eye gave 
 back the glance of disdain, and he still retained his position. 
 The trapper released the bridle of his horse, and seized the 
 Blackfoot by the shoulders. The latter as quickly retaliated, 
 and for a few seconds the two young men glared upon each 
 other with the ferocity of the deadliest foes. Fearful of the 
 result, I released my own bridle quickly, and calling to the 
 angry pair to desist from such folly, rushed between them. 
 At the same moment I heard a wild neigh, and one of the 
 horses dashed past me in the direction of Butternut; the two 
 others were not slow in imitating his example, and the quick 
 regular tramp of their retreating hoofs grew gradually fainter 
 and fainter upon our ears. 
 
 " This serves me right," cried the laughing trapper, offer- 
 ing his hand good-humouredly to Nickstick, who as frankly 
 received it. "I was wrong, boy; let the dead rest, and our 
 
 quarrel with them. We must now find our way home on foot." 
 ****** 
 
 It was night when we reached the castle. The horses had 
 found their way back; and the captain, Twobears, and Poll 
 Crake, fearing that some calamity had overtaken our party, 
 were just about to arm themselves and set out in quest of us. 
 The slight cloud that had arisen between the trapper and Nick- 
 stick was now quite dispersed; and the merry captain, by way 
 of rendering himself agreeable, offered to take a base in the 
 new melody to which I had been composing words. They 
 ran thus: 
 
 The mist was on Madwaska's lake, the forest leaves were still, 
 And mute the merry mocking-bird, and mournful whip-poor-will, 
 When 'mid the red-deer haunts I found your wigwam in the wild, 
 And saw you first, dear Miami, a happy forest child ! 
 Ah Miami ! 
 
 My heart flies back to thee 
 O'er the blue sea foam, 
 To your backwood home, 
 By the hollow hemlock-tree ! 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 285 
 
 The squirrel eyed you as you sat, beside the river's brink, 
 The chitmunk sported round you, the moose stole down to drink; 
 And the timid musk-rat came to play among the scented reeds, 
 While on the yellow mocassin you stitch'd the scarlet beads. 
 Ah Miami, &c. 
 
 Days that had seem'd too long till then, now roll'd too swiftly by; 
 Our hearts were young and hopeful, and they had not learn 'd to sigh; 
 We thought not of that bitter hour, which fate had yet in store, 
 When we should part to meet, alas ! on this sad earth no more. 
 Ah Miami, &c. 
 
 Sweet Miami ! each hour some hope falls like a forest leaf; 
 And. though my heart like all which feel lacks not its share of grief, 
 'Twould gladly know a double share, through many a coming year, 
 To save your bosom one brief pang, or spare that eye a tear ! 
 Ah Miami, &c. 
 
 HEAP THE FIFTIETH. 
 
 It would be tedious to myself, and perhaps productive of 
 little interest to the reader, were I to recapitulate all that was 
 said and done during the ensuing fortnight or three weeks of 
 my stay at Butternut. I shall therefore forbear to comment 
 on them further, than by just observing, that the time 
 passed but too quickly and pleasantly to myself, and, to 
 all appearance, with no less of happiness to those who 
 so hospitably entertained me. The captain read aloud to 
 us from his favourite authors, and occasionally joined us 
 in hunting parties, of which he was the very life and soul ; 
 the trapper quoted Homer and Shakspere, took copious 
 notes of things that struck him, and monopolised the society of 
 the fair Hummingbird, who meantime wrought me a pair of 
 very handsome mocassins; Twobears talked of his Dulcinea 
 on the banks of the Mohawk, seduced me into shooting- 
 matches, in which he was pretty generally the victor ; and 
 the Blackfoot led me in pursuit of bears, instructed me in the 
 art of setting traps for wolves, and taught me to paddle a canoe 
 
286 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 and shoot rapids on scientific principles ; while the excellent 
 Mr Crake waited on us all, prepared our pipes, cooked our ve- 
 nison, cleaned our rifles, grinned at our jokes, and acquitted 
 himself of every other duty in so clever and admirable a 
 manner, that we pronounced him to be the very prince of black 
 servants, and worth his weight, not in paltry gold, but in dia- 
 monds of the purest water. Such continued to be the tenor of 
 life at the castle until one sober evening towards the latter end 
 of November. That beautiful season known as the Indian 
 summer was just drawing to a close ; the forests were growing 
 leafless and deserted ; the weather was getting cold, and we 
 were sitting round a fine glowing wood-fire for the captain 
 abhorred stoves rubbing our hands, and making ourselves as 
 merry as the season of the year and our several circumstances 
 would permit. Captain Ramsay had just gone out and come 
 in again, resumed his tomahawk pipe, stirred the logs, and 
 said, with a shrug of the shoulders, " A cold night ! the glass 
 is falling rapidly we shall have snow ! " 
 
 I sprang from my seat. " Snow ! " echoed I. My response 
 was a prolonged stare and a general laugh, for I had dropped 
 my pipe, and was looking perhaps more concerned than so 
 simple an announcement appeared to warrant ; but I was re- 
 flecting upon the impossibility of my getting back into the 
 settlements, if I once allowed the snow to set in. 
 
 " Yes, snow," reiterated the captain, twirling his long mous- 
 tache. " Why not? we generally look for it about this time." 
 
 "Then I am sorry to tell you," returned I, with a melan- 
 choly sensation, "that I must be on my way back to Little 
 Golgotha ; that is all, gentlemen." 
 
 "Nonsense! stuff! bah! pooh!" was the cry. 
 
 The Blackfoot was alone silent. He continued to smoke 
 with much composure. 
 
 " Have we quarrelled then, that you wish to leave us in such 
 a hurry?" asked the captain. "You shall not go; we will 
 pass the winter together." 
 
 I saw that it was no time to waver. Anxious as I was to 
 remain, and loath as I was to part from those to whom I was 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 287 
 
 hourly growing more and more attached, I had formed my re- 
 solution, and determined to adhere to it. 
 
 "I must go," I repeated. "I have arranged to pass the 
 winter in the settlements, and there are people there who will 
 be on the look-out for me." 
 
 " There will be time enough for that when the ice breaks 
 up," said Twobears. 
 
 " The ice seldom breaks up till the beginning of May, and I 
 must be at Niagara in May, as I have to go south." 
 
 " The snow may not set in for a month yet. There are 
 winters which remain open till the end of December." 
 
 "They are not to be trusted ; and, with the captain's per- 
 mission, I will leave Butternut the day after to-morrow." 
 
 The captain remained silent, and I never felt more compli- 
 mented than at that identical moment, when, instead of reply- 
 ing, he seized a small clump of moustache, and plucked it up 
 by the roots, as one would serve a young tree. He never in- 
 flicted this punishment upon himself but when he was seriously 
 moved. 
 
 " Could you not arrange to leave us to-night? " inquired the 
 facetious trapper. " A mail-coach passes the door regularly 
 at half-past ten, and I will send Poll Crake to secure you the 
 box-seat." 
 
 I was not sufficiently "cunning of fence" to parry this clever 
 thrust, and, stealing presently from the room, and slipping 
 through the palisades, I rambled into the forest, among the 
 ruins of Abraham Thorn's hut. 
 
 HEAP THE FIFTY-FIRST. 
 
 The next day I began to prepare for my journey back to 
 Little Golgotha ; and, as I was thrusting some articles into my 
 knapsack, Twobears approached with some sheets of yellow 
 paper in his hand. 
 
288 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 " These are for you," said he, " if you think them worthy of 
 your acceptance. You have often, though perhaps not in 
 words, expressed a curiosity to learn something of the captain's 
 early career and adventures, and I have frequently read in 
 your eye an earnest longing to learn why he should have 
 sought a home in such a wilderness as this. Well, then, here 
 is a document that will afford you all the information you 
 seek. The original manuscript,' which is in his own hand- 
 writing, becoming soiled and torn, I, a few years since, under- 
 took to re-write it, but found the task a longer one than I bar- 
 gained for, and gave it up in despair. You will find some ex- 
 traordinary things in these pages, and they will serve to re- 
 mind you of us when we are far apart. Put them away 
 quickly, for I hear the captain's footfall, and there is no neces- 
 sity for him to know anything of this transaction." 
 
 I obeyed with alacrity, just as Captain Ramsay himself 
 joined us. 
 
 " You are inoculating the whole of us with this leavetaking 
 mania," cried he : "here is Nickslick now talking of making 
 a journey to his tribe among the Rocky Mountains. I should 
 not wonder if Fling will be the next seized ;" and the irritated 
 veteran passed his hand twice quickly backward and forward 
 over his grey hair, a process which left it standing perfectly on 
 end, and imparted an unusual ferocity to his fine features. " I 
 suppose you have quite made up your mind to go to-morrow." 
 
 "To-morrow," echoed I, "without fail." 
 
 " Ah, very good;" and I was once more alone. 
 
 The morrow came. The weather had continued to grow 
 colder, and delay would have been dangerous. My knapsack 
 and rifle, the foxskin pouch, the paddles, the axe, and other et 
 ceteras, were put into the canoe, and I took my seat among them. 
 Hummingbird, the captain, and Poll Crake stood upon the 
 river's bank, to watch our departure. Nickstick stepped to my 
 side, and with one powerful sweep of his pine-blade urged the 
 obedient little craft into the stream. The trapper and Two- 
 bears, who intended to accompany me a short distance, were 
 already in another canoe, and leading the way. I looked back. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 289 
 
 Hummingbird kissed her hand to me, and the captain lifted his 
 cap; then a bend in the river hid the two figures from my 
 sight, and I had gazed my last upon them and Butternut. 
 
 " I dare stake my head there will be no-snow for five weeks 
 to come," said Fling, as the two canoes came together. 
 
 " Have a care, brother, or we shall be broadside on to the 
 rapid. Quick! what are you thinking about?" cried Two- 
 bears. " Ah, it is too lute !" 
 
 Down shot the two canoes into the sea of foam before us, but 
 not with equal fortune. As Twobears had predicted, the 
 trapper missed his mark, and struck upon a ledge of concealed 
 rock. The canoe filled and sunk directly, and the two 
 young men, being precipitated into the boiling caldron, were 
 hurried helplessly down the stream. They were both excel- 
 lent swimmers, however, and contrived to effect a landing in 
 safety. 
 
 " It seems we are not destined to accompany you further," 
 said Twobears, when I had landed also; "your canoe will not 
 carry more than two safely. Farewell ! Remember the Falls 
 of La Chaudiere, and our first merry meeting." 
 
 ** I shall not easily forget either," said I, wringing the ex- 
 tended hand with an unfeigned heartiness. 
 
 "Let us cut this melancholy business as short as possible," 
 cried the trapper, with a quavering voice; "I am not fond of 
 leavetakings in general." 
 
 Each of us wrung the other's hand once more, Nickstick 
 obeyed the hint I gave him, and he and I were alone in the 
 wilderness. 
 
 At sundown we lighted a fire, and camped for the night. 
 Neither -of us felt very communicative, and little was said. 
 Some snow fell towards morning, and we heard the howling of 
 wolves. We kept alternate watch, and took particular care 
 not to let the fire die out. 
 
 The whole of the next day passed without giving birth to 
 any extraordinary occurrence. Nickstick strove to be cheer- 
 ful, but he frequently asked me the same questions twice, and 
 sometimes we sat for hours without speaking a word. Toward 
 
 T 
 
290 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 evening, as usual, we lighted a fire, pitched our tent, and ate 
 our bread and bear's meat. 
 
 "Why do you cast so many glances on yonder tree?" in- 
 quired I of the Blackfoot, when the meal was concluded. " Is 
 there anything more remarkable in that than in any of these 
 others?" 
 
 "No see dat mark?" asked the chief, as he led me to the 
 hollow pine we had been surveying. " Use him eye ; what this, 
 and this?" 
 
 " The bark has been scratched; it looks like the mark of a 
 claw." 
 
 " Berry good; tink him old scratch, or young scratch ? Eh? 
 why him laugh?" 
 
 " Which do you think it is?" asked I, evasively. 
 
 "Tink him bear; look ! know him in tree now; see plenty 
 claw vp, no claw down; sure him in tree. Berry good, get him 
 out soon," and Nickstick, seizing the axe, cut several huge 
 notches in the old tree's trunk. This measure, however, being 
 productive of no satisfactory result, we lighted a fire around 
 the root of the pine, and endeavoured by that means to sednce 
 the bear from his hiding-place. This attempt was a fruitless 
 one also; and, after we had removed the blazing logs, Nick- 
 Ftick climbed the tree, with the view of determining whether 
 the animal were really there or not. He then made a signal 
 for his fusee, and I threw my own, as the lighter of the two, 
 into his hand. He put the muzzle of it down the hollow of the 
 pine, and fired. The sharp crack of the piece reverberated 
 through the forest, and, dislodged by the concussion of air 
 among the branches, I heard several decayed twigs patter upon 
 the leaf-strewn ground. Nickstick very coolly threw back the 
 rifle, and desired me to re-load, when the chief repeated his 
 dangerous experiment. Still the bear appeared not, and I put 
 my ear to the bole of the pine. 
 
 "Ah, what him 'ply to dat?" said Nickstick, noticing the 
 act; "say him come out by um by? Berry good, wait till by 
 um by;" and descending, he resumed his position by the fire. 
 
 Gradually the sun sank below the horizon ; the sky grew 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 291 
 
 golden; then blood-red; then brown; then night set in; and, 
 wrapping a blanket round my head and shoulders, I stretched 
 myself by the warm embers, and fell asleep. 
 
 I was awakened suddenly by the chief, who thrust my rifle 
 into my hand, and bade me follow him quickly. The fire had 
 gone out, and the forest was wrapped in a profound darkness, 
 but by degrees its outline became less indistinct, and I con- 
 trived to keep my gaze fixed upon the dusky form of Nickstick, 
 as it flitted rapidly along before me. Our path lay up a ravine, 
 and along the stem of a fallen pine. The Blackfoot had gained 
 the middle of the latter, and I was close at his heels, when the 
 rotten timber crumbled away under our tread, and we were 
 both precipitated into the torrent that roared beneath us. We 
 were so fortunate as to escape with a mere wetting, but, by the 
 time we had extricated ourselves, the bear had gone, and pur- 
 suit was hopeless; so we returned sulkily to our quarters, and, 
 rekindling the fire, spread our dripping garments before it, 
 wrapped our blankets once more around us, and resumed our 
 slumbers. 
 
 It had been arranged that Nickstick should accompany me 
 down the Madwaska as far as that memorable fork which had 
 been the scene of my struggle with the half-breed Rattlesnake; 
 but the events of the next morning enabled me to alter my 
 plans, and dispense with the further assistance of my generous 
 companion. In doubling a point of the river, much to the asto- 
 nishment of both parties, we overtook a large canoe, which con- 
 tained an Indian hunter and his wife. They were much such 
 a pair as Yellowblanket and Bluebead. We shot abreast of 
 them, and made signals of friendship. 
 
 "Do you speak English?" asked I, addressing the red-skin. 
 
 " Ver small some," returned he, coolly ; " parlez vous Fran- 
 cais?" 
 
 " Non," said I, unwilling to make a parade of my bad French. 
 
 " Well, can't help; speak old-country talk, then, like Canada 
 fader. Good for hear. Know him Canada fader in Montreal 
 grey hair, wise head give poor Injun powder, lead, blanket, 
 fusee, eberything, much as want." 
 
292 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 " Ah, then you have now an opportunity of obliging one of 
 his sons. Will you take me to the river's lower fork, and set 
 me ashore there?" 
 
 " Yes, no 'ject to dat; got dollar about him, ha?" 
 
 Nickstick drew out his tomahawk, and gave it an alarming 
 twist. 
 
 " O yes, I have dollars; how many shall I give you?" 
 
 The red-skin paused a moment; then, with his keen eye fixed 
 steadily upon my face, to learn how far it would be safe for his 
 impudence to carry him, held up one finger, then another, then 
 u third, then a fourth, and finally, smiling, opened his whole 
 hand. "Five dollar," cried he. 
 
 Nickstick gave his tomahawk another twirl, but didn't speak. 
 
 " I see you are a rogue," said I; " I will give you two dollars, 
 and no more." 
 
 The bargain was struck, and we all stepped ashore, when my 
 knapsack, rifle, &c., were transferred to the Indian's canoe, and 
 the moment had now arrived for Nickstick and myself to bid 
 each other farewell. lie told me that he was going to hunt 
 awhile with his tribe, and should return to Butternut the en- 
 suing summer, when he should hope to see me again. I re- 
 plied, that there was little probability of our ever meeting more, 
 unless he visited England. He then took my hand, pressed it 
 to his heart, and presented me with his tomahawk. In return, 
 I gave him my pistols, with which he appeared much delighted. 
 My red friends now took their seats, desired me to do the same 
 -^and I had looked my last upon Nickstick. 
 
 More than an hour elapsed ere I opened my lips, and then I 
 felt as though it would have been a relief to me if I could but 
 have picked a quarrel with the red-skin and his squaw. 
 
 " Of what tribe are you ?" asked I sharply of the former. 
 
 " Two-mountains," was the reply. 
 
 " By what name am I to know you ?" 
 
 The red man pronounced a word of about seventeen syllables. 
 I begged for an interpretation, and he said it meant " Smooth- 
 water." 
 
 " And your wife," pointing to the squaw ; "what is hername ?'' 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 293 
 
 Another word of a similar length fell upon my tortured ear, 
 and I begged for an interpretation of that also. 
 
 " Woodpecker," was the response. 
 
 Woodpecker was a yellow lady of about five feet in height, 
 and four in breadth. I had never before seen so corpulent a 
 personage. The more I looked at her, the more I won- 
 dered. Smoothwater noted the consternation she occasioned 
 me, and, supposing I was growing enamoured of her 
 charms, said, " Berry fine squaw. Pale-faced squaw like 
 dat? No." 
 
 I heartily concurred in the sentiment, and, stretching myself 
 out upon the buffalo robe that lay in the bottom of the canoe, 
 fell into a sound sleep. I dreamed that I was once more at 
 Butternut. The captain, Twobears, Hummingbird, Tom Fling, 
 Nickstick, and Poll Crake, were sitting around me, and the 
 dog Diver dosed at my feet. I was wakened by a shower of 
 spray. The canoe had just shot a rapid. My thoughts dwelt 
 upon the parting look Nickstick had given me, and the follow- 
 ing lines linked themselves together in my brain: 
 
 Were it for months, or even years, 
 Which soon, though sadly, would roll by, 
 
 Perhaps I might restrain the tears 
 That mount unbidden to mine eye; 
 
 For then the hope would yet remain 
 
 That we might some day meet again; 
 
 But no such hope may cheer our gloom 
 
 No, from this moment to the tomb, 
 
 We never more, my friend, my brother, 
 
 May fondly gaze each on the other; 
 
 No more through these wild forests roam, 
 
 Which for awhile have been our home; 
 
 No more you'll rest your head with me, 
 
 At night, beneath the same green tree; 
 
 Those hours are past, too few, too fleet, 
 
 Too bright, too happy, and too sweet! 
 
 I think upon them with regret, 
 
 And would that we had never met. 
 
 I love your clime, I love your race, 
 Your noble mien, and swarthy face; 
 And in that bosom, far from cold, 
 I know there beats a heart as bold 
 
294 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 As ever yet throbb'd in the breast 
 
 Of red-skinn'd warrior of the west 
 
 A heart which bleeds, too, like my own, 
 
 To think how thinn'd those tribes have grown 
 
 Who once possessed, pure, undefiled, 
 
 A land so wondrous fair and wild, 
 
 Where forests bloom, and rivers run, 
 
 Unmatched beneath yon glorious sun ! 
 
 Sad was the day, sad was the hour, 
 
 Sad, sad, beyond the feeble power 
 
 Of pen to paint, or tongue to tell, 
 
 When the first white man, skill'd too well, 
 
 Fate-led the stormy ocean o'er, 
 
 Set foot upon your peaceful shore ! 
 
 No young light-hearted warrior bounds 
 
 Through those once-happy hunting-grounds; 
 
 No deer dash by; no rifles ring; 
 
 No Indian maidens sit and sing. 
 
 No; foot by foot, and day by day, 
 
 You're driven from your homes away, 
 
 Until faint, lorn, degenerate few 
 
 There soon will not remain to you, 
 
 Of all those lands so grasp'd and gone, 
 
 Enough to spread your blankets on. 
 
 Such were my thoughts, when, with a sigh, 
 We parted that young chief and I . 
 He to his tribe, far, far away, 
 Where buffalo and Blackfeet stray, 
 And I I did not know, nor heed: 
 Where fate might bid, or fortune lead. 
 
 HEAP THE FIFTY-SECOND. 
 
 At sundown, according to backwood custom, we camped, 
 kindled a fire, and partook of the usual evening meal. Wood- 
 pecker, who had received this appellation in compliment to the 
 dexterity she exhibited in the use of the axe, when fuel was 
 required, ate prodigiously. Nor did I feel at all flattered upon 
 the discovery that we were all three to sleep under the same 
 tent; but, as a declension of this honour would have involved 
 
WHITTL1NGS FROM THE WEST. 295 
 
 my hosts in a great deal of what they would perhaps have con- 
 sidered unnecessary trouble, there being no other tent, I 
 thought it my duty to acquiesce. Woodpecker furnished me 
 with no cause of complaint, and I awoke the next morning very 
 much refreshed, and with an appetite fully calculated to do 
 justice to the excellent breakfast she had prepared for me. 
 
 About noon the same day, we arrived upon my old camping 
 ground at the river's fork. Smoke was curling up among the 
 trees, and we stepped into a circle of seven or eight picturesque- 
 looking Indians, of whom iny friend Smoothwater appeared to 
 be the chief. Among the rest, much to my surprise, I saw 
 Yellowblanket and Bluebead. They both started when their 
 glance fell upon me, but betrayed no further disposition to 
 acknowledge the acquaintance. I did not expect him to do so, 
 as I felt sure that he was a little sore upon the subject of the 
 rifle, toward which his eye once or twice roved, with an eager 
 and covetous look. 
 
 " Yellowblanket has a short memory," said I, rather irritated 
 by the red man's impertinence. '** Why does he put a lie into 
 his face, and pretend that the young Englishman and he have 
 never met before ? Where are the long black leggings, and 
 the scarlet jacket, and the brass dog-collar, and the picture that 
 he stole from the lodge of the Grey hair ?" 
 
 " Has my young white brother come singlehanded to redeem 
 them?" asked Yellowblanket, with a diabolical little laugh, 
 that exhibited all his yellow teeth. 
 
 " Silence ! Pray don't irritate these fellows," cried a voice 
 in my ear. 
 
 The words startled me strangely, for they were couched in a 
 language I had not heard for many years. Could Indians talk 
 Latin? Yes, evidently. My first impulse was to turn and 
 gaze at the speaker, but I saw that caution was requisite, and 
 checking myself as suddenly, muttered, " Dice; audio." I then 
 looked in a careless way toward the party who had addressed 
 me, and found him to be a handsome, young (apparently) red 
 man. He was playing with and caressing a dog. There was 
 another dog sleeping near me. Sitting down, I began to stroke 
 
296 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 his head, and talk. The words I spoke, however, were ad- 
 dressed to the mysterious youth at my elbow. 
 
 " Most of those around us talk a little French, and English," 
 said he; "so, seeing that you were an old-countryman, I 
 thought it probable you would know something of Latin. 
 Don't look at me, or our friends will suspect that we are con- 
 versing. I am in trouble." 
 
 " State your complaint," said I, opening the dog's mouth, 
 and affecting to examine his teeth. The Indians had eaten 
 their supper, and were lying stretched indolently upon the 
 ground. 
 
 "Four months since, I came to hunt with these rascals, and 
 was so foolish as to fall in love with one of their squaws. The 
 girl was pretty, and I became really attached to her; in return 
 for which politeness, Smoothwater, her papa, had us married, 
 and made me a chief. Soon afterwards, the father of the lady 
 and I had some words, and I threatened to leave the tribe. 
 He bade me do so on my peril. Accordingly I made the 
 attempt, but was caught and led back; ever since which time 
 I have been watched narrowly, but I think, if you will lend a 
 hand, I may yet escape. I forgot to tell you that I am a lieu- 
 tenant in the army. Who and what are you ? " 
 
 Here, the dog that I was caressing began to growl and snap 
 at me; so I gave him a sound cuff on the ear, and sent him 
 about his business. I was in consequence unable to reply to 
 the queries of the young lieutenant, in the manner I before 
 had done. He saw the impropriety of our holding further in- 
 tercourse at that moment, and, thanking me for the attention 
 I had given him, threw himself back, and fell asleep. 
 
 I awoke in the middle of the night, and looked round. The 
 Indians were all slumbering soundly. I crawled toward my 
 new acquaintance (whom the reader shall know by the name 
 of Ralph Picket), and touched him lightly on the shoulder. 
 " Are you ready ? " I asked. 
 
 " Eeady ! " echoed he. " Impossible ; we could not steal 
 away by night ; it must be done by day." 
 
 "What, and leave a broad trail behind us? Nonsense! 
 
WHITTLItfGS FROM THE WEST. 297 
 
 Your best chance is at a time like the present ; for at least five 
 or six hours must elapse before the print of our footsteps will 
 be visible. Allons follow me ! " 
 
 He sprang to his feet. I was about to do the same, when 
 one of the red men awoke, and seeing Picket astir, asked 
 whither he was going. 
 
 " To fetch some logs," replied he, with admirable self-pos- 
 session. " The nights grow cold now." 
 
 " Hugh ! " said the Indian, resuming his recumbent posture. 
 But his suspicions were roused, and we found it prudent to 
 defer our adventure till a fitter opportunity should present 
 itself. 
 
 In the morning, as we were discussing our breakfast, Ralph 
 Picket, as though we had held no previous communication, 
 turned suddenly to me, and said, " Parlez vous Francais, mon- 
 sieur?" 
 
 " Non," replied I, as abruptly, and with a helpless shrug of 
 the shoulders ; " I have better occupation here ; " and I as- 
 sisted myself to a fresh slice of venison. 
 
 Ralph Picket and I turned our backs upon each other with 
 as much rudeness as possible, and the red men seemed pleased 
 to find us disagree. I saw that Smoothwater was about to 
 speak. 
 
 " Smoothwater like Heap-of-hair's fusee ; what shall the 
 chief give him for it?" 
 
 " I cannot part with it," said I, somewhat angrily ; " it is 
 not for sale," 
 
 " Hugh ! much sorry ; like fusee well ; give ten dollar for 
 him." 
 
 "A hundred would not buy it," returned I, wishing to put 
 the subject to rest. " I have said." 
 
 Smoothwater looked displeased, and passed the rifle on. 
 Several of his comrades examined it, and I was requested 
 to load and exhibit its virtues, A tin drinking-cnp lay 
 on the river's bank, about fifty yards off, and I took aim 
 at it. 
 
 " Hit the cup," muttered Ralph, " or these rascals will hold 
 
298 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 you in contempt; besides, it will show that thief Smooth- 
 water that you could pick one of his eyes out with the tool, if 
 need be. Don't give up the piece again." 
 
 I pulled the trigger as he spoke, and knocked a hole through 
 the bottom of the tin pot. The red men all cried, " Hugh !" 
 
 Another day and night passed without affording Ralph 
 Picket an opportunity of escape. The next morning, Smooth- 
 water told me, in the presence of all his "young men," that he 
 had had a very pleasant dream. He dreamed that Heap-of- 
 hair (for he had learned from Nickstick to call me so) had 
 presented him with his fusee, and gladdened his heart very 
 much. Ralph Picket coughed, and grasped himself think- 
 ingly by the chin. I was quite aware that, without a wilful vio- 
 lation of Indian etiquette, I could now no longer remain the 
 possessor of the coveted rifle. With a bad grace, therefore, I 
 handed it over to the chief, saying, as I did so, " Smoothwater 
 has pleasant dreams; all the horns, and skins, and bear's-meat 
 the backwoods could boast, would not buy Heap-of-hair's 
 fusee; but when the Great Spirit whispers, his children must 
 obey." The red man's eye glistened with ecstacy, and he 
 marched triumphantly away with his prize. 
 
 " You have lost that pretty rifle," said Ralph. 
 
 " Wait a bit," said I. 
 
 The Indians, headed by Sraoothwater, went away upon the 
 track of some wolves. Ralph was taken with them. The 
 chief asked me to make one of the party, and offered me the 
 loan of a heavy Kentucky rifle for the occasion; but I de- 
 clined the proffered civility, and remained in the camp. I 
 stretched myself out upon a buffalo skin, and awaited their re- 
 turn. They were not long absent, and I learned that they 
 had succeeded in capturing two wolves. I did not rise from 
 the buffalo robe until the whole party had re-assembled; then, 
 seating myself with much gravity among them, I informed 
 Smoothwater that, during his absence, I also had had a very 
 delightful dream, in which I fancied that he had returned me my 
 rifle. The countenance of the chief instantly fell. "It is 
 good," he muttered; "the Great Spirit sometimes whispers to 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 299 
 
 one, and sometimes to another. Smoothwater returns Heap- 
 of-hair his fusee;" and with a false smile he put it into my 
 hands. The whole party of Indians then smoked away for a 
 long time in silence, while Ralph Picket and I conversed upon 
 our fingers. 
 
 "We must be off without fail to-night," telegraphed he; 
 " these scoundrels are plotting mischief." 
 
 " Be ready when you see me rise and replenish the fire," 
 was my reply. " In the meantime, secret the red men's toma- 
 hawks, and stop up the touchholes of their fusees." 
 
 Ralph nodded, and I saw him laughing more than once. I 
 had little doubt that his thoughts were reverting to my fortu- 
 nate dream, and the comfortable manner in which it had en- 
 abled me to retaliate upon Smoothwater, who again begged 
 that I would share his tent and buffalo robe. I was quite 
 aware that this offer proceeded less from an impulse of hospi- 
 tality, than a strong desire to have me under his own imme- 
 diate surveillance, and defeat my plans of escape from his 
 thievish band. I affected to be well pleased with his proposal, 
 however, and, in order to keep him in good-humour, presented 
 Bluebead with a large mosaic-gold brooch, which she received 
 with a whoop of pleasure, and immediately stuck in the bosom 
 of her blanket. 
 
 At midnight I arose, according to my frequent custom, and 
 heaped some logs upon the fire. I then returned to the tent, 
 and once more lay down. A few minutes afterwards, I again 
 quietly arose. All the red men were asleep, and Ralph Picket 
 had already withdrawn himself. 1 seized my rifle quickly, but 
 was annoyed to discover that one of the arms of Smoothwater 
 was resting upon my knapsack. I resumed my position by his 
 side, and plucking a hair or two from my head, drew them 
 slowly along his upper lip. He raised his hand to it in a surly 
 way, and I removed the knapsack. In another minute Ralph 
 Picket and I were gliding stealthily through the forest, in the 
 direction of Little Golgotha. 
 
 "What is the matter? why do you pause now?" asked 
 Ralph, as he saw me hesitate. 
 
300 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 " I have forgotten my tomahawk ; it was the gift of a young 
 Blackfoot chief, and I must return." 
 
 " Nonsense ! are you mad ? Hark, I hear the dogs; we are 
 missed, and have no time to lose." 
 
 I did not hear the dogs, but I felt the justice of Ralph's re- 
 monstrance, and took the lead again. There was a bright 
 star in the east. I had studied its position by my pocket com- 
 pass, and knew that Little Golgotha lay in that direction. By 
 and by we reached the banks of a small lake. I uttered an 
 exclamation of joy, for I recollected the spot well. 
 
 "Hark!" whispered Ralph, cocking his rifle; "I hear 
 footsteps." 
 
 " They are too clumsy for those of a man," said I, " and it 
 must be a bear. Have the goodness to uncock your piece, or, 
 if you stumble, I shall have the bullet in my back." 
 
 Picket did as he was desired; and together we pushed our 
 way under branches, along fallen trees, and up a dangerous 
 ravine. 
 
 " What is the matter now ?" cried the impatient young 
 lieutenant, finding me come to a sudden stand; "push on, 
 pray!" 
 
 " We are upon the brow of a precipice, and another step 
 would have been death. You would find no bottom there for 
 more than a hundred feet." 
 
 Ralph thrust his rifle forward, and peered down into the 
 gloom, then withdrew quickly, and muttered, " What an es- 
 cape ! I am glad you led the way." We both listened again, 
 and loud shouts, mingled with the heavy tramp of feet and the 
 yelping of curs, fell upon our ears. 
 
 "Now we are pursued in earnest," said I, and drawing my 
 companion after me, we coiled ourselves under the trunk of a 
 tree, which grew upon the very ledge of the gulf. 
 
 Two red men were close upon our trail. Ralph was about 
 to cock his piece and shoot the foremost, but I laid my hand 
 upon his arm, and caused him to desist. 
 
 " Be patient," whispered I. " Look and listen." 
 
 At that critical moment, one of the Indians rushed hastily 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 301 
 
 past the spot where we had concealed ourselves, uttered a 
 whoop, and was gone. I heard his lifeless body crash heavily 
 among the branches below. The second Indian, encouraged 
 by the shout, leaped forward also, and disappeared. A dog 
 ran to the brink of the precipice, and barked loudly in our 
 faces. Ralph Picket thrust out the butt of his fusee, and 
 pushed the animal over the ledge. 
 
 " Don't move," cried Ralph, " there are five more to follow," 
 and putting his hands suddenly to his lips, he raised a whoop 
 that rang for many a rnile through the echoing woods. It was 
 too late for me to remonstrate against so unseasonable a piece 
 of folly; the mischief was done, and the rallying red men 
 carne forward in a body. Two out of the five fell into the 
 trap, the remainder drew back, and, uttering a yell of rage, 
 retraced their steps. 
 
 " Now is the time," said I to Picket; " we must descend this 
 crag. We can swing ourselves into the branches of one of 
 these trees, and slide down safely;" and, dropping my rifle and 
 knapsack into the abyss, I worked njy way along a sturdy hem- 
 lock bough into the hemlock itself. There were branches at 
 intervals of about six feet from each other, and I accomplished 
 the descent with comparatively little difficulty. Ralph was 
 not so fortunate. The first intimation of his proximity was 
 conveyed to me by his heavy rifle, which fell almost at my 
 feet. Some pine branches near me were then seriously shaken, 
 and Picket slipped uninjured through them. He had missed 
 his grasp of the tree, and, losing his presence of mind, suf- 
 fered himself to tumble almost from the top of the hemlock to 
 the bottom, where the denseness of the foliage broke the im- 
 petus of his career, and tossed him harmlessly to the ground. 
 Together we groped about for my knapsack and rifle, and, 
 having recovered them, resumed our journey. I had scarcely 
 taken two steps, however, ere I stumbled upon the prostrate 
 body of one of the Indians. He was still living, but quite in- 
 sensible, and we placed him with his back against a rock. We 
 then searched for the three others, but without success, and, 
 clambering the opposite bank of the ravine, proceeded on what 
 
302 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 we supposed to be our course. But I had now completely lost 
 myself among the intricacies of the forest, and the star that 
 had hitherto guided me, being no longer visible, I resolved to 
 move no farther until day had broken. I communicated my in- 
 tentions to Ralph Picket, and, as he appeared to appreciate them, 
 laid myself wearily upon the ground, and was soon fast asleep. 
 
 HEAP THE FIFTY-THIRD. 
 
 It was not until the evening of the next day but one, that 
 (without having tasted a morsel of food since we parted with 
 Smoothwater and his band) Ralph Picket and I, very weary 
 and footsore, entered the settlement of Little Golgotha, and 
 knocked at the yellow door of its judge, coroner, and chief 
 magistrate. The judge himself, attired in the same buckskin 
 waistcoat that he had worn upon my last interview with him, 
 responded to the knock, and, holding a candle to my face, 
 honoured my features with a long and somewhat embarrassing 
 scrutiny. 
 
 "Yes it is," cried the judge; "yet no> it isn't either; but 
 it's uncommonly like him, too." 
 
 " Mr Log, at your service," replied I, " Ali Balm's friend ; 
 and this is my friend, Mr Ralph Picket, whom 1 beg to intro- 
 duce to your notice." 
 
 Ralph Picket bowed, and the excellent justice of peace, 
 wringing our hands warmly, dragged us into his parlour. 
 There was an immense uproar in the next room. Two fiddles 
 were being taxed to the utmost of their melancholy abilities, 
 and the shuffling of many buoyant feet was plainly audible. 
 Ralph Picket threw himself into a chair, covered his eyes with 
 his hands, and sobbed like a child. He had dwelt so long 
 with his interesting allies, the red men, that his feelings were 
 not proof against the pleasing revolution his prospects had 
 suddenly undergone ; and I, for my part, felt like one who had 
 just awoke from a long strange dream. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 303 
 
 "Is this real, friend Heap-of-hair?" asked Ralph, looking 
 round him with an air of semi-savage bewilderment, "or is it 
 all a joke?" 
 
 As he spoke, the judge returned, and a buxom, rosy-cheeked 
 damsel, laying a milk white cloth upon the table, exhibited to 
 our admiring gaze a hot venison pasty, some new bread, and a 
 jug of foaming ale. 
 
 " We have not eaten or drunk for three days," cried Ralph, 
 repeating a brief grace, and attacking the pasty with vigour. 
 
 The good-natured justice lifted his eyebrows and hands in 
 amazement, and ordered the cherry-cheeked maid to fetch two 
 more pasties on the spot. This timely piece of pleasantry 
 caused Ralph and myself to laugh. 
 
 "Don't lose time, boys," said the judge; "you're picked for 
 the next quadrille." 
 
 " For what?" said I, with a look of concern, and a disparag- 
 ing glance toward my legs and feet. 
 
 " A quadrille ! " cried Ralph, assisting himself to a fresh heap 
 of pasty. 
 
 "Nothing else, I guess," said the imperturbable judge; "you're 
 both engaged five deep, and I'm mistaken if there are not six 
 or eight of the girls staring by turns through the keyhole 
 now." 
 
 A suppressed coughing and tittering was here heard, accom- 
 panied by the patter of retreating feet. Picket threw himself 
 back in his chair, and laughed outright. 
 
 "You cannot be serious in your proposal, judge," remon- 
 strated I; " look at us with our travel- stained hunting-shirts, 
 blue leggings, yellow mocassins, and beards of a month's 
 growth ; " and together Picket and I rushed out of the room, 
 and up a staircase. 
 
 Remonstrance was useless; the judge, backed up by a stout 
 storming party, besieged us in our den, and we were compelled 
 to surrender at discretion. Five minutes were allowed us for 
 the performance of our toilets, and the enemy drew quietly off 
 to await the issue of the negotiation. 
 
 We found the company to consist of about five-and-twenty 
 
304 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 settlers, with their wives and daughters, and a large sprinkling 
 of colonels, majors, and captains, together with a number of 
 other gentlemen who had either figured in political life, or 
 were the proprietors of stores in that or some neighbouring 
 settlement. We were the lions of the evening. 
 
 As Ealph Picket and I retired to our slumbers, the merry 
 but muffled music of approaching bells fell upon my ear, and I 
 opened the window. There were nearly two feet of snow upon 
 the ground; and the melodious sounds proceeded from a sleigh, 
 which dashed past with the rapidity of lightning. It was the 
 first I had ever seen. 
 
 " Had this snow fallen yesterday, our retreat would have 
 been cut off," said I, re- closing the window. " Thank God for 
 all things!" 
 
 "Amen!" responded Ralph, with much more devotion than 
 I had supposed him capable of. " I am very glad I met with 
 you. Good night!" 
 
 HEAP THE FIFTY-FOURTH. 
 
 As I had resolved to spend the greater part of the winter 
 in the bush, and Ralph Picket, who was now the master of his 
 own movements, had signified his intention of accompanying 
 me, I inquired of the judge whether there was a possibility of 
 procuring a pair of horses and a sleigh, in order that we might 
 proceed at once to the settlement I had chosen for my head- 
 quarters. The judge took the matter into his consideration, 
 and the next morning but one the required conveyance drew 
 up at his door; whereupon Ralph and I, having previously 
 provided ourselves at a neighbouring store with mink-caps, 
 buffalo- coats, and bear-skin gauntlets a costume w r hich left 
 nothing whatever of us visible, saving the red tips of our 
 frosted noses away we shot. The winter had set in with a 
 most unusual suddenness. There were four feet of snow be- 
 neath us, the sky was an intense blue, and the air so pure and 
 
WHITTLINGS FEOM THE WEST. 305 
 
 clear that I could distinctly see the young moon in her retire- 
 ment among the azure depths above. Though the cold was 
 more severe than any I had ever encountered, I experienced 
 no unpleasantness from it; on the contrary, my spirits were 
 buoyant beyond measure, and my blood ran tingling through 
 my veins in the most delightful manner imaginable. There 
 was a wall of snow to our right, and a wall of snow to our left, 
 and we slipped stealthily along over the white world that lay 
 before us, with the silence of a ship upon the ocean, or a wild 
 bird on the wing. 
 
 With the buffalo robes wrapp'd -warmly round, 
 
 And the sweet bells jingling all the way, 
 Over the white and frozen ground, 
 
 Merrily glides the rapid sleigh, 
 said I, extemporising a verse. 
 
 "How beautifully the tin church-spires glitteramong thesnow- 
 laden trees!" cried Ralph; "and hark to the exquisite music 
 of those mellow sleigh-bells! Heyday, your nose is frozen!" , 
 
 " I don't feel it." 
 
 " No, I daresay not. Remove your gauntlet instantly, take 
 a handful of snow, and rub your face with it well. The fric- 
 tion will restore the circulation." 
 
 It did, but I was obliged to beat my hands together for five 
 minutes, before I could resume the command of the reins. 
 Ralph drew a case- bottle from his buffalo-coat pocket, and 
 offered me a tot of savoury liqueur. He then filled for him- 
 self, and, as he screwed on the cap of the flask again, observed 
 in an under tone, " That scoundrel Pierre is asleep, and there- 
 fore can't need any." 
 
 Pierre, who was the owner of the sleigh, and sat in a box 
 behind us, awoke quickly, and coughed, to intimate the fact. 
 Picket took the hint. 
 
 " C'est bon!" cried Pierre, smacking his lips, and pulling up 
 the buffalo-robe once more to his very chin. 
 
 In the evening we paused to bait our horses, and procure 
 something to appease the cravings of our own respective appe- 
 tites. As it chanced to be Friday, however, and the host and 
 hostess of the log inn were rigid Catholics, we were compelled 
 
 u 
 
306 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 to sup upon a highly-peppered potato-pie, and buckwheat pan- 
 cakes. That done, we sprang again into the sleigh, and stopped 
 no more till we reached a settlement called Smithville, in 
 which we resolved to remain the night. Pierre roused us at 
 an early hour the next morning, and by mid-day we had ar- 
 rived in a village called London; an hour afterwards at Rich- 
 mond; then at Kettleville; and finally at Wakefield, our des- 
 tination, when we parted with Pierre, and took up our quarters 
 at the best inn the settlement boasted. 
 
 "Anything new out west?" asked the landlord, who was 
 also a colonel in the militia. 
 
 "Nothing that I am aware of," said I. 
 
 "They say that things are looking up a little down south. 
 The last advices from Europe are favourable." 
 
 " So they tell me." 
 
 "What about wheat?" 
 
 " Steady at present, with a prospect of a rise." 
 
 "I am offered four-and-ten," said the colonel; "would you 
 advise me to hold or sell? " 
 
 " Hold, by all means," said I. 
 
 " Do you think the General will get in?" 
 
 " Not a doubt of it." 
 
 " Who is the Gineral, pray?" asked Picket, as the colonel 
 left the room. 
 
 " Can't say," said I; and we heard the colonel's voice recapi- 
 tulating the information he had gleaned to the group of settlers 
 who were sitting round the inn parlour stove. The tramp of 
 retiring feet then announced the gradual break-up of the edified 
 party, from whose rather troublesome company we had the 
 fortune to be exempt during the rest of the evening. 
 
 The following morning, as I intended to make Wakefield 
 my residence during the winter months, I looked over my 
 letters of introduction, in the hope of finding one addressed to 
 some person in the neighbourhood, and had the luck to dis- 
 cover one for the pastor of the village. I was just about to 
 despatch this, with my card, when Ralph Picket entered the 
 room in which I sat, and requested a word with me. 
 
WHITTLINGS FKOM THE WEST. 307 
 
 " What is the matter, Ralph?" said I; "you look unusually 
 sentimental." 
 
 " I have hit upon it, I think," replied he, closing the door 
 with an air of much mystery. 
 
 " Ah, indeed ; what is in the wind ? " 
 
 " I am going into business." 
 
 " Business ! a gentleman ? an officer in the army ? " 
 
 "Listen. While sauntering down the settlement just now, 
 I happened to drop in at the store that excited our merriment 
 yesterday, and got into conversation with the proprietor, who 
 is about to sell out, in consequence of his having involved 
 himself a little with the excise-officers. The fellow offered me 
 the good-will of his business and the whole of his stock on 
 hand for a certain sum, which I thought little enough. I, 
 however, offered him precisely half of it, and we struck hands 
 upon the spot. You have nothing to laugh at, I assure you. 
 I never was more serious. To-morrow I take possession." 
 
 " I congratulate you upon your prospects, with all my 
 heart," said I ; " but " 
 
 "But what? Listen again. I have squandered away a 
 good deal of money since I came to Canada, and being now 
 somewhat reduced in funds, and too independent to draw on 
 my father's banker, have resolved to make a bold stroke ; in 
 fact, I have determined to go into business, and by some suc- 
 cessful speculation replenish a purse which, in spite of all my 
 economy, is at a very low ebb indeed, and threatens shortly to 
 become dry altogether. Well, I have a proposal to make you." 
 
 "Make it then." 
 
 " You must enter into partnership with me." 
 
 " Impossible. I never had a turn for business." 
 
 " But I will take no denial." 
 
 " Then I will be sleeping partner." 
 
 " Very well, you shall. / will carry on the concern. Which 
 will sound best ? ' Log and Picket/ or ' Picket and Log ? ' " 
 
 " Arrange it to your liking ; here is my share of the pur- 
 chase-money ; " and I began to count over a roll of five-dollar 
 notes." 
 
308 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 Ealph pushed them from him indignantly. " The cash is 
 paid," cried he ; " take back this filth." 
 
 " Never. If we are to be men of business, let us act as 
 such. Either put this into the general fund, or let us dissolve 
 partnership at once." 
 
 " So be it, for I am sure we should never agree ; " and 
 Ralph shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Let me see," said I ; " you will have strong opposition. 
 There is Major Pocock over the way ; David Tree yonder, 
 at the house with the blue front; Paul Turret in the dis- 
 tance there, where the four-post bed and shower-bath stand ; 
 
 and " 
 
 "All the better," said Picket, folding his arms doggedly. 
 " What they ask a dollar for, I will sell for fifty cents ; and 
 what they offer for fifty cents, I will sell for a trente-sous. 
 They will turn pale at the bare idea of it, and a week after- 
 wards you will see them all putting up their shutters." 
 
 Having delivered himself of this solemn prediction, Ralph 
 Picket donned his buffalo-coat, and went to take a fresh inspec- 
 tion of his newly- purchased stock. In the meantime, having 
 received a very polite note from the Rev. Harry Tiber, the 
 village pastor, I strolled to his house, with the intention of 
 paying my respects. 
 
 On my return, I learned that Ralph Picket awaited me at 
 Major Pocock's, and to that gentleman's establishment I imme- 
 diately repaired. Ralph, I saw, was acting the prudent general, 
 mingled with a slight dash of the spy. 
 
 Major Pocock sat at his door, not on a chair, nor a stool, nor 
 a sofa, nor a box, but upon a mahogany piece of furniture of 
 a very peculiar nature. He was a magistrate, and held a com- 
 mission in the militia service. He received me with much 
 warmth, and invited me to dine with him ; but I viewed the 
 thing in the light of a compliment, and declined the honour. 
 His store was full of people, though there was little or no 
 business in course of transaction ; the majority of these people 
 came for conversational purposes, and the remainder for the 
 sake of the stove, as the major always kept up a good fire, and 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 309 
 
 his premises had the reputation of being the best aired ones in 
 the settlement. Having replied to a few commonplace ques- 
 tions, and been introduced to Dr Grundy, and some other vil- 
 lage grandees, I cast my eyes round the store, to note its con- 
 tents. For the convenience of the parties who have occasion 
 to resort to it, a merchant's store in the bush contains every 
 article that can possibly be required for domestic use ; and 
 such was the establishment of Major Pocock. It boasted of 
 grocery, haberdashery, hosiery, drugs, cutlery, crockery, per- 
 fumery, stationery, furniture, jewellery, confectionery, sad- 
 dlery, and seeds ; which were hung upon pegs, stowed upon 
 shelves, thrust into cupboards, placed in the windows, piled 
 on the floor, and hooked upon and crammed into every avail- 
 able spot and crevice that the shop afforded. Not one inch 
 of wall, floor, or ceiling was there unoccupied. Hats, wash- 
 hand basins, looking-glasses, rifles, boots and shoes, warming- 
 pans, flitches of bacon, bottles of pickles, barrels of butter, 
 ready-made coats and waistcoats, jars of sweetmeats, and a 
 thousand other articles of almost every nature that can be sold 
 or purchased, being jumbled together in a manner I had never 
 seen equalled in the whole course of my bush experience. 
 And in the centre of this heterogeneous mass of goods for he 
 had removed from the door now beamed Major Pocock him- 
 self, walled in by a group of his friends and admirers, who 
 were rubbing their hands and knees blissfully, and enjoying 
 the heat the cheerful stove diffused around. 
 
 The major sat immediately in front of it, facing the red-hot 
 door, with a poker in his hand, and one heel on either extre- 
 mity of the ash-pan. Dr Grundy, the settlement surgeon, sat 
 upon the counter, surveying his legs, and clapping his boots 
 leisurely together, with a sound like that produced by the 
 jaws of an alligator, when he is looking anxiously forward to 
 his next meal. There was another gentleman stationed upon 
 a can of treacle hard by, but he appeared to be absorbed in 
 his own reflections. He stared at me as I entered, though by 
 degrees his gaze slipped down from my face to my feet, and 
 there remained fixed. I was positively afraid to move either 
 
310 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 of them, lest the action should offer an interruption to his me- 
 ditations. 
 
 " Yes," said Major Pocock presently, in pursuance of a con- 
 versation my entrance had broken off, " those who think to 
 undersell me will have to cut rather fine. Let 'em try it." 
 
 All eyes were here turned upon Paul Turret, the pensive 
 gentleman who sat upon the treacle-can. The stoical Paul, 
 in return, turned his lacklustre, watery optics upon those of 
 the speaker, but said nothing. 
 
 "If any man seeks a jinnowine article," said Major Pocock, 
 "let him come to me; if he wants an inferior one, let him go 
 to Paul Turret," 
 
 " Yes, yes," cried the major's audience ; " very true." 
 
 Paul Turret rose slowly from the treacle can, and I felt ap- 
 prehensive that he was about to annihilate the major ; but lie 
 had no such sanguinary intentions, for he laid his arm very 
 amicably on Major Pocock's shoulder, and stretching over him, 
 relighted his pipe at the stove ; then gravely resumed his seat. 
 
 " A bad article is dear at any price," said Dr Grundy, with 
 another clap of his heavy boots. The doctor always attended 
 Major Pocock's lady. 
 
 "That is exactly my sentiment, and my principles is based 
 upon it," said the major; "the cheap and nasty system will 
 not do in the long run." 
 
 There was another murmur of applause here. I looked at 
 Paul Turret. The expression of his face had never altered, 
 but one of his eyes at that moment wandered to mine. The 
 hour of his triumph was at hand. Just then, a little boy 
 Paul Turret's clerk (there are no shopmen in Canada) came 
 in for change of a ten-dollar bill. Paul handed it to Major 
 Pocock. The major went boldly to his tills, first to one, and 
 then to the other, and finally shook his head. 
 
 " Two fives will do," said the boy. 
 
 "I haven't got them handy, my man," muttered Major 
 Pocock. 
 
 " Half in silver then," urged the boy. 
 
 " No ; I can't spare it in that either," said the major. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 311 
 
 " Well, some of it in copper," persisted the youth. 
 
 The major was inexorable, and the juvenile clerk indulged 
 in a rather insulting grin, which must have been grievous to 
 the fast-rising choler of Major Pocock. Paul Turret there- 
 upon slowly drew out his pocket-book, counted over ten one- 
 dollar notes, and put them, with a pleasant chuckle, into the 
 hand of his clerk. He then arose from his seat, placed his 
 half- extinguished pipe in his waistcoat pocket, put his hands 
 calmly under the tails of his shooting-jacket, and stalked into 
 the street. There was a queer smile upon his long cadaverous 
 face, and his great odd eye met mine, as he descended the 
 step of the door. Paul Turret was avenged. 
 
 HEAP THE FIFTY-FIFTH, 
 
 Upon my return to the hotel, I found a note awaiting 
 me from the Rev. Harry Tiber, with an intimation that he 
 would be happy to see rne to dinner, and a further hint that, 
 in the event of my not having provided myself with lodgings, 
 he would be glad to receive me under his own rooft Without 
 more ado, therefore, I waited upon Mr Tiber, and on my way 
 met with Ralph Picket, who informed me that he had finally 
 closed with Daniel Thumb, and was just about to open his 
 store, inviting me at the same time to an early inspection of 
 it. On turning the corner which led to the minister's cottage, 
 my eye caught an immense placard posted on the chimney of 
 a hut that had been consumed by fire. It bore these words 
 "Go TO PICKET'S NEW STORE TRY PICKET." I could not 
 help laughing as I contemplated this placard, though I rather 
 regretted Ralph's precipitancy. As he had fairly passed the 
 Rubicon, however, I determined, far from thwarting him in 
 the prosecution of his new enterprise, to give him every en- 
 couragement and assistance that lay in my power. With this 
 resolution big at heart, I arrived at the residence of Mr Harry 
 Tiber. I found that gentleman in his " library." He was a 
 
312 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 tall, handsome young man, of about nine-and-twenty, with 
 rich, dark curly hair, a pair of large, lustrous black eyes, and 
 a fine, pale, interesting face, which wore an expression of 
 much archness and good-humour. He was married, and had 
 not been resident in Wakefield more than six months. He 
 had entered the church very much against his will; and many 
 droll tales were told of him, some of which I did, and some of 
 which I did not believe. One of these was as follows: On 
 the occasion of some festivities in the settlement, as a means 
 of ingratiating themselves with the Sunday-school children, he 
 and his charming little wife had launched from their cottage 
 window a number of penny-pieces, for which, of course, there 
 was an immediate scramble. But the moment the penny-pieces 
 had come into contact with the tips of the children's fingers, 
 they withdrew them with a howl, for Mr and Mrs Tiber had 
 previously reduced the coin to a white heat in a shovel over 
 the kitchen fire. I relate the story as it was related to me, 
 and do not vouch for the truth of it; nor am I anxious to do 
 so, for I am indebted to Mr and Mrs Tiber for a great many 
 kindnesses and attentions, as well as for some of the very 
 pleasantest hours. I passed in the bush. I must nevertheless 
 admit that, whenever I subsequently beheld Mr Tiber in the 
 pulpit, the story of the fire-shovel and the penny-pieces would 
 flash across my mind, and very materially lessen the awe with 
 which I should otherwise have been disposed to regard his 
 pious admonitions. 
 
 Mr Tiber's cottage was an extremely pretty and picturesque 
 one. It had a Swiss look, was balconied round, and stood 
 upon the skirt of the forest. I could not help turning, as I 
 left the spot, and admiring its unpretending beauty. I had a 
 great wish to make it my residence; but, as I regarded the 
 Rev. Harry's invitation to do so less as a serious proposi- 
 tion than as one of those compliments which people often, on 
 the impulse of a first acquaintance, are disposed to pay to each 
 other, I had respectfully declined the thing. On my return to 
 the hotel, however, I discovered that Mr Tiber's man-ser- 
 vant had already captured and carried away my luggage; so I 
 
WHITTLINGS FHOM THE WEST. 313 
 
 had no alternative but to follow it, which I did the same 
 evening. 
 
 The following day I paid a visit to the store of Ralph 
 Picket. Ralph saw me coming, and threw open the door. 
 He had such enormous a fire in his stove, that my eyes abso- 
 lutely crackled as I stood near it, and I had almost to gasp for 
 breath. There were several settlers warming themselves, and, 
 as usual, six or eight large dogs occupied the best portion of 
 the hearth. Ralph was just superintending the sale of a fry- 
 ing-pan to a young lady, and some powder and a pair of braces 
 to an Indian chief, who had his rifle in his hand, and a pair of 
 snow-shoes over his shoulder. Picket was sitting in a rock- 
 ing-chair. 
 
 The young lady inquired the price of the frying-pan. 
 " The price is marked on it," replied Ralph. 
 " I don't see it," said the damsel. 
 " You have got your thumb on it, my dear." 
 "But it's a private mark." 
 
 "Very good," said Ralph, coughing; "take it at that." 
 "But I can't read your private marks how can I?" 
 " And I am sure I can't," said Ralph, much concerned. 
 "Can anybody read private marks here? If so, let them look 
 at this. Here, friend Log, what does an L and a K stand for, 
 with a stroke between them ?" 
 
 " Daniel Thumb should have let you into this secret," said 
 I. " You had better examine your invoices." 
 
 " To be sure," muttered Ralph, who thereupon went into a 
 dark closet in a corner, and brought out three separate files of 
 bills each of them nearly as long as one of those patent 
 chimney-sweeping machines now in vogue and having pre- 
 sented one to me, a second to his boy, and reserved the third 
 for himself, we all three calmly sat down to study them. The 
 invoices were covered with dust, and every time we removed 
 one, we sneezed in concert. At length Ralph sprang im- 
 patiently from his chair, and inquired of me, in a whisper, 
 what frying-pans usually went for in the Old Country? I 
 laughed at poor Picket's concern, and shrugged my shoulders. 
 
314 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 " Would it be dear at half-a-dollar?" asked he. 
 " Decidedly so," said I. 
 
 "Can anybody fix a price on this infernal pan?" asked 
 Picket, appealing to the group of bystanders, who were warm- 
 ing themselves at his expense. 
 
 One settler cried, "A shilling;" and Ralph's boy, feeling 
 himself appealed to, said, "Fourpence;" on which, Picket 
 seized the pan, and gave him such a rap upon the head with 
 it, that the article rang like a Chinese gong. The requisite 
 information was at length procured from a neighbour, when 
 Picket, with the view of setting all competition at defiance, 
 struck off fifty per cent, from the cost price of the utensil, and 
 delivered it up to the purchaser. The gunpowder and braces 
 were then disposed of at a similarly low " figure," and Ralph 
 resumed his seat in the rocking-chair, with the complacent air 
 of a man who had got satisfactorily through a most tedious 
 piece of business. 
 
 Once or twice in my perambulations about the important 
 and flourishing village of Wakefield, I had observed a dirty, 
 ruffianly-looking fellow, who went about with his dilapidated 
 hat very much on one side, and his arms akimbo. His face 
 was an exceedingly unprepossessing one, and it wore one of 
 the fiercest and most insulting expressions that human features 
 could possibly assume. As I was returning from Ralph 
 Picket's store to Mr Tiber's pretty villa, I was just in time to 
 see the individual alluded to shoot head first out of David 
 Tree's spacious warehouse, into the very middle of the road, 
 where he lay for a considerable time, uttering the most hide- 
 ous execrations, and kicking his heels savagely in the air. 
 His flight from the store into the street was as sudden and 
 swift as though he had been discharged from the mouth of a 
 cannon. It was but natural, therefore, that I should pause to 
 inquire of the first person I met who the ejected gentleman 
 was, as well as something concerning his profession and pur- 
 suits. " You must beware of him," was the reply; "he is a 
 very dangerous fellow, who, if he can do you an evil turn, 
 will watch his opportunity, and certainly do it. He is called 
 
WIIITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 315 
 
 ' Crazy Joe.' He has been in all the jails and lunatic asylums 
 in Canada, but none of them would keep such a rascal on any 
 terms. He leads a roving, roaring sort of life here, and some- 
 times lives in the forests, no one knows where or how, for 
 months together. At other times he will come into the settle- 
 ments, and force himself into our houses, from which those of 
 us who have the courage to do so, instantly kick him into the 
 road, where he will frequently lie for two or three days at a 
 stretch. Carry a horse-whip, and if he attacks you, cow him 
 at once, or he will never cease to play the bully every time 
 you and he encounter each other. He has killed one man, 
 and maimed several others for life. Above all things, beware 
 of sitting at night near a window which has a light in it." 
 
 I thanked David Tree for the hint, and promised to turn it 
 to account. 
 
 "Don't forget the horse-whip," cried David. 
 
 " ^No, no, I will not," said I ; and I purchased one imme- 
 diately. 
 
 My course happened to lie closje past Crazy Joe, who was 
 on his back among the snow, whirling his legs frantically in 
 the air, and blaspheming in a horrible manner. His face was 
 quite red with the exertion, and his eye looked frightfully 
 wild and bloodshot. As I drew near, he fixed his gaze upon 
 me, sprang into a sitting posture, and began to nurse his knee, 
 but offered no insult. Wishing to conciliate him, I took out 
 my purse, and tossed him a sixpence. He leaped to his feet, 
 and flew at me open-mouthed, like a tiger or catamount. I 
 darted to one side, and the door of Paul Turret's shop being 
 open, slipped in, and closed it after me. The next instant the 
 door was dashed to pieces, and Joe presented himself, almost 
 foaming at the mouth. Here he ran at me a second time, so, 
 being now thoroughly roused, I seized him by the hair and 
 ear, and gave him a heavy blow over the left arm; while Paul 
 Turret, running to my assistance, pushed the madman once 
 more into the street. A few minutes afterwards, a huge stone 
 was hurled through the window. The missile was aimed at 
 me, but missing, it struck Paul Turret on the back with such 
 
316 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 violence, that he fell upon his face, and vomited blood. With 
 all haste, therefore, I despatched his clerk for Dr Grundy, and 
 after hearing that gentleman pronounce the patient better, re- 
 turned to my friend Harry Tiber's, with the horse-whip under 
 my arm. 
 
 HEAP THE FIFTY-SIXTH. 
 
 December had now rolled away, January set in, and with it, 
 that clear, blue, deliciously-cold, crisp weather which is so 
 dear to the heart and pleasant to the thoughts of every true 
 Canadian. Sleighing was in its prime. Plenty of snow had 
 fallen; it had got well "packed," arid the roads were in capital 
 condition. Accordingly, the first moonlight night, by unani- 
 mous understanding and consent, Mr Tiber, Mrs Tiber, with 
 two or three young lady friends, Ralph Picket, and I, deposited 
 ourselves in a fine large sleigh, and were whisked along through 
 the dark pine forest by Harry's powerful horse Brigand, at the 
 rate of about sixteen^English miles per hour. But, although 
 Brigand had the reputation of being the fastest trotter in the 
 bush, he was not without his eccentricities; and one of the 
 chief of these was a strong pre-disposition to form his own 
 selection of the road along which the sleigh was to be drawn. 
 That once done, nothing would ever turn him. A variety of 
 experiments had been tried upon the refractory animal, but in 
 vain ; and frequently, as Harry himself once told me, when he 
 had promised to do duty at one settlement, Brigand carried 
 him off per-force to another, and he had no alternative but to 
 do duty there instead. Apart from this rather troublesome 
 peculiarity, the beast had no vicious propensity whatever, and 
 was, as we nearly all agreed, one of the best and most brilliant 
 quadrupeds that ever champed bit. 
 
 " It would be well, my dear," cried Harry to his pretty little 
 wife, as he drew up the buffalo robe to his chin, and beat one 
 of his hands against his knee to restore the lost circulation 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 317 
 
 " it would be well if, before you pronounce these glowing eulo- 
 giums on Brigand's powers, you wait to see how he conducts 
 himself presently where the roads fork. If he takes it into his 
 head to turn to the left, instead of the right, it would have been 
 better for us if we had never set out; for the late drifts in that 
 quarter have been such as to render travelling, and particularly 
 by night, excessively dangerous." 
 
 Brigand sneezed, and cracked his tail, just as an able hunts- 
 man would crack his heavy whip. 
 
 "Did you observe that, Fanny?" inquired poor Mr Tiber. 
 "I did, my dear," returned his wife; "it portends mis- 
 chief." 
 
 " Of course ; he means to make for the drifts." 
 Mrs Tiber gave a faint scream, and her three friends echoed it. 
 " Now pray, pray be calm, every one of you," cried Harry, 
 " for I shall need all my nerve." 
 
 Brigand dashed on over the white snow sea. Every bell 
 upon his arched neck rang out its silvery chime to the blue 
 night ; while the full moon and radiant stars looked down upon 
 us through the tall pine-trees, as we flew by with a rapidity 
 that was quite appalling. 
 
 " We are now upon the River Rideau," said Mr Tiber, 
 " and in a minute more we shall reach the fork." 
 Brigand sneezed again. 
 
 "Ah, you demon!" muttered the incensed Harry between 
 his set teeth. 
 
 Brigand, who fully appreciated the compliment, laid his 
 ears perfectly flat upon his head, and cracked his tail again. 
 
 "Do you think he will take the wrong turn?" I asked, feel- 
 ing rather elated than otherwise at the prospect of a cap- 
 size. 
 
 " I am sure of it," said Harry Tiber ; and, placing his feet 
 against the dashboard, he gave the reins a mighty tug, which 
 brought the unruly animal upon his haunches on a waste piece 
 of ground precisely facing the dangerous fork so frequently al- 
 luded to. 
 
 " Bear on the left rein, Harry," said Mrs Tiber, laying her 
 
318 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 little gauntleted hand upon her husband's shoulder; "bear on 
 the right rein, and he will be sure to take an exactly opposite 
 direction." 
 
 Mr Tiber, thinking the hint a good one, acted upon it, but 
 the result proved contrary to his expectations, for Brigand 
 gave a frightful plunge, and darted down the forbidden track 
 with the velocity of a stricken deer. The disappointed Harry 
 made another effort to throw him upon his haunches, but it 
 was unsuccessful, and the attempt only exasperating the horse, 
 he flew forward with greater speed than ever. A moment 
 afterwards I experienced a sensation as though I was in a ship 
 that was descending into the trough of a wave, and Mr Tiber, 
 his wife, the three ladies, Ralph Picket, and I, were precipitated 
 into twenty feet depth of snow ! 
 
 Dire was the scuffle and confusion. Brigand neighed, and 
 kicked, and reared, until nothing but his two ears were visible 
 over the drift; the meek Harry, with his mouth full of snow, 
 swore away like any trooper; Mrs Tiber and her lady com- 
 panions screamed with all their might; and Ralph Picket and 
 I, in our huge buffalo- coats, dug our way first to one side, and 
 then to the other (though every step sunk us deeper into the 
 disaster), in the vain hope of achieving an emancipation for 
 ourselves and friends. While affairs were at this crisis, the 
 music of advancing sleigh-bells fell upon our ears, and, like 
 drowning mariners upon a mast when a sail heaves in sight, we 
 all raised our voices to the highest pitch of which they were 
 capable: Mr Tiber, Picket, and I, taking a heavy bass, and 
 Mrs Tiber and her fair companions the shrillest alto. To this 
 sudden and extemporaneous piece of vocalism, we were cer- 
 tainly indebted for our lives, as Brigand, who had completely 
 exhausted himself by his previous efforts, and had for some 
 minutes lain in a sort of swoon, now made a violent demonstra- 
 tion with his fore-legs, loosened the snow around him, and oc- 
 casioned a prodigious avalanche, which brought our whole 
 party into a place of comparative safety. While the ladies 
 were yet struggling to regain their feet, and I was endeavour- 
 ing to disentangle the harness from the horse, the advancing 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 319 
 
 party, whose bells we had heard, made their appearance, and 
 rendered us prompt assistance. By dint of this and our own 
 exertions, we contrived to get the sleigh once more into tenant- 
 able condition, and to re-establish ourselves in it. Before we 
 had proceeded half a league of our homeward course, however, 
 a portion of the harness which we had mended gave way, and 
 we were compelled to proceed at a walking pace to the nearest 
 habitation. This fortunately happened to be the residence of 
 a respectable old gentleman and lady with whom the Tibers 
 were intimate, and in whose company we contrived to pass a 
 most agreeable evening. 
 
 To this evening I should forbear to allude further, had it 
 not given birth to a very curious and inexplicable circum- 
 stance, with which I deem it but fitting to acquaint the reader. 
 
 I have before alluded to the serene beauty of the night. It 
 was as light as day, and when we looked through the double 
 windows of the apartment in which we sat, we could distinctly 
 see the country for upwards of twenty miles around us, and 
 distinguish the tin spire of Wakejield church, as it glistened 
 against the blue heaven in the background. While our gaze 
 was turned in this direction, we all observed a tall figure emerge 
 from the forest, and stalk slowly up the road. It occurred to me 
 immediately that I had seen this figure before, but I could 
 not recollect upon what occasion. That impression became 
 stronger as the object advanced, and striding spectrally along 
 the little clearing in front of the house, ascended the steps and 
 knocked. Notwithstanding the singularity of the whole affair, 
 admission was granted to the mysterious stranger, who with- 
 out removing his tall fur cap, or buffalo-coat, or black bear- 
 skin gauntlets, strode unannounced into the room we occupied, 
 cast one queer glance around him, bowed his head to avoid the 
 pipe of the stove, entered an adjoining chamber, and closed the 
 door quietly after him. 
 
 The whole transaction had an air of such mystery, that for 
 several minutes neither Mr Bevan (the old gentleman named), 
 nor his wife, nor Harry Tiber, nor his wife, nor the three 
 young ladies, nor Ralph Picket, nor I, knew at all what to think 
 
320 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 of it. We looked at each other in silence. Mr Be van was the 
 first to break the charm, and rise from his chair. 
 
 " What rule or usage in society, I should like to know," 
 cried the old gentleman, " entitles a man with whom I never 
 exchanged more than two words in my life to enter my house, 
 and, without even shaking the snow from his mocassins, walk 
 into my best bedroom at this time of night ? " 
 
 " Paul Turret may possibly have some business to transact 
 with you," said Mrs Bevan. 
 
 lt Then Paul Turret, my dear, could have found his way here 
 as well by the light of the sun as by that of the moon. Be- 
 sides, I have had no dealings with him whatever." 
 
 " Are you sure it was Paul Turret ? " asked Mrs Bevan. 
 
 " Convinced," replied her husband. 
 
 " And I ; " " and I," echoed Mr and Mrs Tiber in a breath. 
 
 I had a similar conviction, but did not feel called upon to 
 say so. 
 
 "It is strange that he has not yet made his re-appearance," 
 remarked Mr Bevan ; " I will go and inquire his business." 
 
 The old gentleman at once suited the action to the word, 
 but came from the room again with so pale a face and ghastly 
 expression of countenance, that we all sprung simultaneously 
 to our feet. 
 
 " What is the matter, William ? Speak ! " gasped Mrs 
 Bevan. 
 
 " Nothing nothing at all, my dear," returned her husband, 
 sitting down, and wiping the perspiration from his brow ; 
 "only we have been deceived. Paul Turret is not in that 
 room. It is empty." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " cried Harry Tiber. " I will swear that I saw 
 Paul Turret walk into that room, and close the door after 
 him." 
 
 All were ready to confirm the truth of this assertion, and, 
 Mr Tiber leading the way, we entered the mysterious apart- 
 ment, but found it, with the exception of the furniture, per- 
 fectly vacant. There were no cupboards, and there was no- 
 body under the bed ; the walls were not provided with secret 
 
WHITTL1NGS FROM THE WEST. 321 
 
 pannels, nor had the floor any trap-doors. No person could 
 ;have hidden himself in the chimney, for the room did not boast 
 of one, and none of us felt disposed to tax a gentleman of Paul 
 Turret's height and calibre with having ascended the stove 
 pipe. 
 
 ** This has been an optical illusion," said Mr Be van. 
 
 " Never ! " exclaimed Harry Tiber. " How could nine people 
 be similarly deceived ? One may, perhaps, and it is even pos- 
 sible that two might have their imaginations so worked upon, 
 either by nervousness or fright, as to be affected in this way ; 
 but for nine rational people to be participators in the same 
 hallucination, I will never believe it. Paul Turret came into 
 this room, and he must either have got out of it by some means 
 of which we are not at present aware, or he is still among us." 
 
 " Let us search again then," said Mrs Bevan. 
 
 We did, and with the same amount of success. 
 
 " How frightfully pale you look, Fanny," said Mr Tiber to 
 his wife. 
 
 " And you have no idea how your hair is sticking up, 
 Harry," retorted she, laughing, in spite of some superstitious 
 fears. 
 
 " A new idea has struck me," interposed Mr Bevan ; " he 
 must have escaped by the window." The possibility of this 
 had not yet occurred to us. " Of course this will explain the 
 mystery ; " and a rush was made to the window. 
 
 " At all events, then," submitted I, " we shall find the track 
 of his mocassins upon the snow." 
 
 We looked for these in vain ; there was not a footprint to 
 be seen. 
 
 Soon afterwards the whole party retired to bed, but not to 
 sleep. Paul Turret occupied our thoughts. In the morning, 
 with the assistance of Mr Bevan, Harry Tiber and I mended 
 the broken harness, and the ladies having deposited themselves 
 in the sleigh, we returned to Wakefield. Brigand never failed 
 to find his way home. There were two roads ; sometimes he 
 would patronise the one, and sometimes, for a change, the 
 other. On our arrival in the village, the first thing Picket 
 
 x 
 
322 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 and I did was to inquire of a group of settlers who had con- 
 gregated around Major Pocock's door after the health of Paul 
 Turret. 
 
 " I regret to say, sir, that he is dead," responded the major 
 himself; " and our village is deprived of one of its chief orna- 
 ments." 
 
 This was true ; the stone flung by the hand of Crazy Joe 
 had caused the death of poor Paul. I asked about what hour 
 he died. 
 
 " Last night," said Major Pocock, " at precisely nine 
 minutes to eleven by Dr Grundy's watch." 
 
 " A leetle better than nine minutes, major," cried Dr 
 Grundy, with a loud clap of his boots, for he occupied his 
 old position on the counter ; " a leetle better than nine mi- 
 nutes, major. If you recollect, I drew out my watch at the 
 moment, and said, ' Our friend is gone ! ' ' 
 
 " May I ask," said Picket, " whether Paul left his house at 
 any time prior to his death last evening ? " 
 
 Dr Grundy put his hands down, one on either side of him, 
 pushed himself farther back upon the counter, clapped his 
 heels together once more, and replied, " I guess not." 
 
 Ralph and I then went into the store of David Tree, who 
 confirmed the major's statement. It appeared that Turret had 
 for some months suffered from diseased lungs ; but I had little 
 doubt that the blow upon the back he received the day before 
 had materially expedited his departure. 
 
 HEAP THE FIFTY-SEVENTH. 
 
 A few mornings after the death and burial of Paul Turret, 
 I strolled out with the intention of paying my respects to 
 Ralph Picket. Ralph being a good-natured, handsome, manly 
 sort of fellow, had already become very popular in the settle- 
 ment, and was drawing so much of the custom from David 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 323 
 
 Tree and Major Pocock, that those gentlemen naturally began 
 to grow bitterly jealous of him. But Dr Grundy had taken 
 to the late Paul Turret's store, and he and Major Pocock had 
 laid their heads together with the solemn determination of 
 ruining Picket. They accordingly took all the tickets off their 
 goods, and labelled them afresh. Ralph, however, becoming 
 cognisant of this artifice, and being an able general to boot, 
 revised his own tickets likewise, and, as the result of the ma- 
 noeuvre, began to sell his merchandise (which had already been 
 going about 25 per cent, under cost price) at a "figure" quite 
 unprecedented in any of the Canadian markets. This novel 
 piece of counter-policy again drew crowds to his store ; it was 
 thronged day and night, while those of David Tree, Major 
 Pocock, and Dr Grundy, were scarcely able to boast of a single 
 customer. Things having come to this pass, the major began 
 to give public vent to his indignation. Dr Grundy was a 
 cooler subject, and said, " Wait a bit." But David Tree would 
 not wait. The next day being Sunday, and it happening to 
 prove his turn to hold forth from the pulpit, he brought the 
 affair forward in the course of his address, and by his eloquence 
 contrived to draw back to himself many of his renegade cus- 
 tomers. Still Picket had the majority of the people, and his 
 fame spread far and wide. But what roused Major Pocock, 
 and Dr Grundy, and David Tree, more than anything else, 
 was the fact of Picket having nailed up, at the four respective 
 corners of the different streets, as many huge boards, whereon 
 figured the words, " To Picket's," and "To Picket's Store;" 
 which, as Major Pocock very justly observed, was as much as 
 to imply that Picket's store was the most important resort in 
 the settlement, and the exact centre-point of attraction, and 
 almost, indeed, suggested the idea that the street itself had 
 been constructed for the sole purpose of enabling the public to 
 get by the shortest cut to Ralph Picket's. 
 
 A day or two afterwards, I went to see Ralph again, and, 
 as I passed the store of Major Pocock, I beheld that gentleman 
 standing on the step of it, with his legs very wide apart, and 
 his hands thrust deeply into his breeches pockets. Dr Grundy 
 
324 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 stood in precisely the same attitude at his own door opposite, 
 and, as I went by, they nodded to each other in a manner 
 that plainly said, ** Picket is the favourite at present never 
 mind." Now it so happened that I had occasion to go close 
 past the major, and as I did so he said, " Good morning," and 
 held out his hand, which I most graciously accepted, and 
 shook. 
 
 " Will you come in ? " said Major Pocock. 
 
 " Thank you," returned I ; " I have an engagement." 
 
 " You are going to Picket's ? " said the major. 
 
 " I am." 
 
 Major Pocock smiled in a rather repulsive manner. 
 
 "Are you at all familiar with the history and exploits of 
 Julius Ca3sar, sir?" inquired he. 
 
 " Tolerably so, I believe." 
 
 "And that of Brutus ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 '* Your friend Picket, sir, is Caesar ; his aspirations are dan- 
 gerous to the state ; he is an enemy to the commonwealth. I 
 am Marcus Brutus, Dr Grundy yonder is Casca. Do you 
 recollect the precise number of the wounds of which Julius 
 Caesar expired ? " 
 
 " Six-and-twenty, I think, or thereabouts." 
 
 " You are wrong, sir. I have it upon the most indubitable 
 private testimony, that he received no less than eight-and- 
 fifty, in different parts of his body; but those fifty-eight 
 wounds, sir, are a mere scratch a flea-bite to what Picket 
 may expect at my hands, if he persists in his present course. 
 I will comb his hair for him presently, sir, to some purpose." 
 
 Major Pocock said no more, but nodded his head suspi- 
 ciously, folded his toga around him, and retired slowly to the 
 privacy of his parlour. 
 
 Ralph's store was fuller than ever. It is true that the ma- 
 jority of the people had come thither to warm themselves and 
 to gossip, but the remainder were laying out their money man- 
 fully, and Ralph's boy was kept in a continual trot between 
 one counter and the other. Picket immediately elbo"tved three 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 325 
 
 or four of the most inveterate loungers aside, put a chair for 
 me, and thrust a fresh log into the stove. 
 
 u You will have your premises on fire," cried I, laughing ; 
 " how can you bear this heat ? " 
 
 " They like it," said Ralph in a whisper ; " four of those old 
 women have been here ever since breakfast. Daniel Thumb's 
 last words to me were, ' Don't spare the logs, my boy ; keep up 
 a good fire; you can any time get rid of the company by let- 
 ting it out.' " 
 
 Mr Daniel Thumb (Ralph's predecessor) was a keen ob- 
 server and able tactician ; he knew that settlers, in the winter 
 time, like crickets, always congregated where there was the 
 most warmth. What with the high temperature of the atmo- 
 sphere, however, and the fumes of the tobacco, I was unable to 
 enjoy the society and conversation of Ralph any longer on that 
 occasion, and staggering to the door, made a rather precipitate 
 exit. 
 
 HEAP THE FIFTY-EIGHTH. 
 
 The reader and I have enjoyed so many pleasant little ex- 
 cursions into the woods together, that I shall not pause to de- 
 scribe any of my numerous hunting adventures in the forests 
 around the neighbourhood of Wakefield ; but there is a little 
 circumstance connected with one of these rambles, of which, 
 being a faithful historian, I deem it only proper to render some 
 account. 
 
 I had been toiling, encumbered with my rifle and a heavy 
 pair of snow shoes, through the woods the greater portion of a 
 very long, cold day; and, having torn my coat rather seriously 
 with a troublesome briar, stopped at a small village on my way 
 home, in the hope of finding some one who could repair the 
 garment ; or ; at all events, arrange matters so that the two 
 detached portions would hang together until I reached Wake- 
 field. The house at which I paused to apply for assistance 
 happened to be an inn, and the landlord told me he had got a 
 
326 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 tailor boarding with him, who, he doubted not, would be pleased 
 to render himself of use to me. I accordingly followed my 
 host up-stairs, and into the loft occupied by the tailor, who, the 
 landlord having left us, set to work upon the dilapidated coat, 
 and in less than a quarter of an hour imparted to it an air of 
 tolerable respectability. But with every stitch the poor tailor 
 gave, his red, weak eyes dropped a tear; while his sighs were 
 so frequent and distressing, that my curiosity and sympathies 
 became awakened, and I felt anxious to learn something of his 
 history. 
 
 " That will do very well," said I, as he helped me on with 
 the coat, and I put half a dollar into his hand. He was about 
 to run to the landlord for change, but I made a gesture indica- 
 tive of perfect satisfaction. 
 
 " Do you think there is an opening for a poor tailor, sir, in 
 the neighbourhood you come from?" asked he, nervously. 
 
 " I have no doubt there is. Why?" 
 
 "I am in great trouble, sir; and haven't a friend in the 
 world." 
 
 " Let me hear the particulars of your case," said I, taking a 
 seat by the stove, " and we will see what can be done." 
 
 "My name is Jacob Towler. I come from New York. I 
 rented a little shop in Broadway. I worked for a great many 
 respectable gentlemen, and, among others, for my landlord, Mr 
 Cyrus Pond, who used to pay me very handsomely for what I 
 did, and got me a deal of custom, and would frequently come 
 and sit in my little parlour, and talk to me quite in a friendly 
 and familiar way. Once or twice, too, when the rent for my 
 shop fell due, he wouldn't take it, but pushed it away, saying 
 that I was an honest, hard-working fellow, and he wouldn't 
 have a cent from me as long as I continued to merit his kind- 
 ness. He seemed to have taken a great liking to me, sir; 
 which, as I was a poor, industrious tailor, that had never re- 
 ceived any education to fit me for the company of my betters, 
 used to puzzle me very much ; and to this day, indeed, though 
 my circumstances have changed, I have never been able to ac- 
 count for all his good-nature." 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 327 
 
 " You are a single man ?" 
 
 " Oh no, sir; I have a wife." 
 
 "Oh, you have a wife?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied poor Jacob, with enthusiasm ; " the pret- 
 tiest, and virtuosest, and innocentest little creetur in the world; 
 and it's on her account that I've taken my troubles to heart so 
 much." 
 
 " Well, proceed with your tale. Your good-natured land- 
 lord often came and sat with you, did he ? " 
 
 ** Yes, sir; and frequently brought little presents for Mary 
 such as a thimble, or a pair of scissors, or a needlecase; and 
 once he gave her a gown, but it was too elegant a thing for a 
 poor modest woman like her, and, much against my wish (for 
 I liked to see her well-dressed), she made him take it back 
 again. It was a strange thing, sir, that the more pleasant and 
 affable he became to me, the more my wife seemed to dislike 
 him, and the greater distance she always kept him at. It was 
 injuring my prospects, and I tried to reason with her, but it 
 was of no use; and at last she even refused to see him alto- 
 gether when he came, and went to such lengths as to shut her- 
 self up at the top of the house, and pretend to be ill. 
 
 " And she never gave you a reason for all this ? " 
 
 "Never; she was always silent upon the subject, though 
 she seemed to grow more affectionate to myself with every 
 visit the landlord paid. At last he got annoyed at Mary's 
 rude behaviour (as was likely when he was so kind and affable 
 to me), and said I hadn't treated him gratefully, and he must 
 look up his arrears of rent. This was a heavy blow, as I had 
 spent the money, and could not get more on such a sudden 
 notice; so he flew into a passion, put the bailiffs in, sold me 
 up, and I was obliged to fly, and seek a livelihood elsewhere." 
 
 " And what became of Mary ?" 
 
 " She went to stay witlTa sister, who lived in the neighbour- 
 hood of Broadway, while I came up to Canada in the hope of 
 establishing myself here. In the meantime, however, Mr 
 Pond, the landlord of my old shop, saw Mary, and expressing 
 himself sorry for what had passed, promised to set me up in 
 
328 WHITTLINGS PROM THE WEST. 
 
 business again, and give me a fresh start in life ; and offered 
 to provide her with a home under his own roof, and let her sit 
 at his own table, till we had got comfortably settled once more. 
 But for all this kindness, and in spite of my persuasions, Mary 
 rejected all his offers; and, if he came in at one door of the 
 house, she would deliberately walk out at the other. This 
 strange conduct (so against our interests) caused a coolness 
 between us, and for some weeks I have neglected to write to 
 her; so that I am quite ignorant whether she is living or dead; 
 and my affairs and prospects are in that wretched state that I 
 sometimes wish death would come and relieve me from my 
 misery." 
 
 Here the poor simple tailor bumped his elbows down upon the 
 table, laid his head upon his hands, and shed a copious flood 
 of tears. He looked the very personification of hopeless grief. 
 
 "Have you enough money to pay your wife's passage 
 hither?" I asked. 
 
 "No, sir," replied Jacob, wiping a heavy drop or two away 
 with his cuff; " I have not enough to pay my week's board at 
 this hotel." 
 
 " Well, I will arrange that for you. Come over to Wake- 
 field. In the meantime, I will mention your misfortunes to a 
 friend or two of mine, and we will endeavour to get up a little 
 subscription for you. 1 should not be at all surprised if there 
 is a capital opening for a tailor in Wakefield." 
 
 Jacob was not slow in expressing his gratitude; nor did he 
 fail to keep his appointment the next day, by which time 
 Ralph Picket and I had collected, among the more respectable 
 of the settlers in and around Wakefield, upwards of fifty dol- 
 lars. It was proposed by Mr Tiber, and seconded by Major 
 Pocock, that this money should be laid out in the purchase of 
 a small log-house, and a- few articles of furniture for Jacob's 
 immediate use. I submitted it as my opinion, however, that 
 we had better first send for Jacob's pretty wife; but the sug- 
 gestion met with strong opposition. The majority of Jacob's 
 friends stated that such a journey in the winter season would 
 cost a very heavy sum of money, as well as prove a most 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 329 
 
 tedious affair to Mary herself; and it would' be "better for her 
 to await the opening of the navigation. I objected to this de- 
 lay, expressing myself unwilling to have the young lady left 
 open to the addresses and in the power of a rascal like Mr 
 Cyrus Pond and I was so fortunate as to carry the day ? 
 whereupon Jacob actually saturated his pocket-handkerchief 
 with tears of delight, and sat down to indite a letter to his faithful 
 and exemplary young wife, as well as enclose an order upon one 
 of the New York banks for a sum adequate to her immediate 
 necessities. 
 
 ******* 
 
 Notwithstanding the utter contempt with which I regarded 
 Major Pocock's threat to revenge himself upon 1 Ralph Picket 
 (who was every day rendering himself more popular by distri- 
 buting tea, coffee, treacle, sugar, and sundry other etceteras, 
 gratis among the poorer settlers and widows of Wakefield), still 
 I thought it right to give Ralph warning of the jealousy that 
 was growing up in the bosom of his martial neighbour. The 
 moment I had made the announcement, Ralph tucked a horse- 
 whip under his coat, and went straight up to Major Pocock's 
 store; but that gentleman, seeing Ralph approaching, and 
 having some distant suspicion of the object of the visit, made 
 his escape by a back-door r and took refuge in the forest. A 
 rumour to this effect soon spread abroad, and Major Pocock, to 
 re-establish himself in the good opinion of the public, chal- 
 lenged Ralph Picket to mortal combat. Ralph accepted it, 
 and applied to me to act as his second in the affair ; to which 
 proposal I, after having vainly endeavoured to make peace be- 
 tween the parties, at length acceded. Dr Gruridy, as the 
 major's friend, therefore at once waited upon me to settle the 
 preliminaries. I had previously agreed with Ralph on the line 
 of conduct it would be expedient to pursue. After naming a 
 convenient time and place,. Dr Grnndy proposed fowling- 
 pieces. I insisted, however, that, as Ralph Picket was the 
 challenged party, the choice of weapons lay with him, and 
 hinted that he intended to provide himself for the occasion 
 with an Indian bow and six arrows. 
 
330 WHITTLINGS FEOM THE WEST. 
 
 " An Indian bow and six arrows ! " echoed Dr Grundy, with 
 much indignation ; " who ever heard of such a preposterous 
 proposal ! I cannot listen to it." 
 
 "But the major," interposed I, "shall not be compelled to 
 use similar weapons ; he may consult his own taste in the 
 choice of them. It is a matter of no moment, provided we can 
 but come to an amicable understanding respecting the distance. 
 What do you think of twenty yards, sir ? " 
 
 The doctor, as I had anticipated, shook his head. 
 " We had better say sixty," replied he, after a short interval 
 spent in reflection ; " and either party, after the first discharge, 
 shall be at liberty to advance upon the other as he pleases." 
 
 " That matter is quite settled then ; and now, with regard 
 to the implement your friend intends to patronise." 
 " A fowling-piece ; double-barrel, patent breech." 
 "Single ball, of course?" 
 " No ; slugs they scatter better." 
 " I object to slugs." 
 
 " Then it must be single ball," replied Dr Grundy, with the 
 air of a man who wished to render society a service, and had 
 been prevented. And we parted, with mutual bows. 
 
 At an early hour the following morning, the parties were 
 upon the ground, as well as upwards of fifty spectators for 
 the affair had made a great noise in the neighbourhood, and 
 there was a novelty attending it which was provocative of a 
 more than ordinary share of curiosity. The spot selected for 
 the purpose was a small patch of partial clearing, at the back 
 of the settlement, and on the skirts of the forest. It had seven 
 trees upon it, which were given as cover. Ralph Picket had 
 three, and the four remaining ones fell to the lot of Major 
 Pocock ; who, armed with his long double-barrelled fusee, 
 drew all eyes upon himself, and appeared anxious to open the 
 campaign. The snow was thick upon the ground, but it had 
 got well beaten down, or " packed," and offered a tolerably fair 
 footing to the belligerents. 
 
 Ralph Picket wore an immense pair of Canadian jack-boots 
 a portion of his stock-in-trade. I had seen but one other 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 331 
 
 such pair, and those belonged to the pilot who brought the 
 Golightly up the St Lawrence to Quebec. 
 
 " Why do you encumber yourself with these things ? " asked 
 I of Picket. 
 
 " Because the top of the right one will serve all the purpose 
 of a quiver/' replied he ; and, sure enough, there were the 
 feathers of the long arrows peering above it. 
 
 " Now remember your promise, Ralph," was my parting in- 
 junction, as he took up his position; "let there be as little 
 bloodshed as possible : the right arm, or the shoulder, or the 
 fleshy part of the thigh." 
 
 Ralph nodded, and gave his bowstring a twang, which made 
 several of the bystanders look round and jump. I saw Harry 
 Tiber, disguised, stationed behind a tree at a little distance, but 
 affected to be unconscious of his presence, and, retiring a few 
 paces, gave the word for the combatants to engage. 
 
 Major Pocock raised his gun quickly to the present, but, 
 before he had properly adjusted its aim, an arrow glanced 
 along the polished barrel of the piece, and passed between his 
 right eye and shoulder. He flinched, but recovered himself, 
 levelled again, and fired, though not before the nimble Ralph 
 had comfortably ensconced his person behind a tree, where he 
 was leisurely fitting a fresh arrow, and watching an opportu- 
 nity. The next minute Major Pocock had an arrow sticking 
 in his thigh, and the pain of the infliction caused him to dis- 
 charge his second barrel, without in any way bettering his 
 prospects. He then ran to cover, and began to re-load ; but 
 Picket's policy would not admit of a measure like this, and, 
 before the major had rammed down his powder, another arrow 
 took effect in his cravat, a fourth fleshed his arm from wrist to 
 elbow, and a fifth went between his legs; whereupon, without 
 waiting the arival of the sixth, Major Pocock uttered a wild 
 whoop of rage, turned his back upon his victorious assailant, 
 and ingloriously fled the field, amid the deafening shouts of 
 all the assembled spectators. 
 
332 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 HEAP THE FIFTY-NINTH. 
 
 A funeral in the bush is a rather curious affair. It has 
 little of the solemnity that usually attends a ceremony of the 
 kind in the Old Country. No one is invited on the occasion, 
 but a public notice that such a person is dead, with an intima- 
 tion of the day fixed for his interment, is given, and every 
 settler who wishes to pay respect to the deceased by following 
 his body to the grave may attend and do so. Thus far all is 
 well and respectably transacted, but the sequel to the business 
 is not conducted with the same degree of decency. The mo- 
 ment the settlers have got out of the meeting-house, in which 
 the funeral sermon has been preached, they hurry helter-skelter 
 to the spot where dust is to be returned to dust, the coffin is 
 unceremoniously lowered into the earth, no beautiful and affect- 
 ing words are breathed over it, the soil and snow are shovelled 
 in, and the crowd begins noisily to disperse. All the " mourn- 
 ers" then, according to a previous understanding, adjourn to 
 an adjacent tavern, and drink deeply till the hour of parting 
 arrives, when a ludicrous scene takes place. The company, 
 who are all more or less drunk, scramble into their sleighs (of 
 which there will be perhaps as many as thirty, each containing 
 from ten to a score of people), and away they go, in the merriest 
 mood imaginable, the mellow tinkling of a thousand bells mak- 
 ing them jovial music as they slip along. In a few minutes, 
 however, the leading sleigh meets with an accident, and stops; 
 on which all those bringing up the rear are obliged to stop also; 
 and a great deal of confusion and delicate abuse is the result. 
 The strap is mended, and away they slide again, till an intoxi- 
 cated gentleman in No. 3 has the misfortune to lose his balance 
 and fall out a disaster which occasions a fresh delay; but the 
 difficulty is remedied, whips are cracked, and the bells resume 
 their jingle. Presently another refractory settler from No. 5 
 slides from his perch into the deep snow, and a third stoppage 
 ensues, but the drunken gentleman, whose heels are uppermost, 
 declines all proffered civilities, and refuses to be meddled with ; 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 333 
 
 upon which the whole caravan once more gets under way. 
 Three or four more settlers shortly tumble out into the soft 
 drift, but nobody affects to be aware of it, and thus, dropping 
 upon an average two to the mile, " on they fare," until the corner 
 of the road is turned, night closes in, and the procession is lost 
 to sight. 
 
 Church service in the backwoods retains much of its primi- 
 tive simplicity. Perhaps the settlement cannot afford to build a 
 church, and then an old barn or log hut is fitted up for the pur- 
 pose. We will fancy it is Sunday morning. We enter, and 
 take our seats anywhere, as those are all free. There is a great 
 jingling of sleigh-bells at the door. Half a dozen settlers 
 arrive, and crowd round the stove to warm themselves, as well 
 as three large dogs, which bump their heavy frames down upon 
 the hearth, and fall asleep at once. More jingling of bells; 
 more sleighs ; and in strides the principal storekeeper and chief 
 magistrate of the district, a gentleman in a fustian jacket and 
 grey trousers. Next comes his lady, wrapped to the very eyes 
 in fur; and next, the doctor and his daughters, with three more 
 dogs, which wage instant war with the other dogs, respecting 
 the choicest positions around the fire. More jingling of sleigh- 
 bells, and more arrivals of people with frost-bitten ears and 
 noses, which have to be rubbed briskly with handfuls of snow, 
 that being the sole antidote for a calamity of the kind. The 
 hut is now tolerably full, but the door again opens, and two 
 more dogs sneak noiselessly in, with their -tails very low, as 
 though they had come late, and were rather ashamed of it. 
 There is no attempt made by anybody to drive out the dogs, as 
 they generally behave pretty well. More arrivals : the cobbler ; 
 the tailor; the blacksmith; two more dogs; and three elderly 
 ladies with umbrellas. In fact, everybody has arrived now but 
 the parson, and there are no symptoms of his advent whatever. 
 The settlers look at each other. The magistrate draws out his 
 watch, and glances behind him at the doctor, who shrugs his 
 shoulders. " Hark ! now he is coming," they whisper. No 
 yes no. The door again swings back on its hinges, and an- 
 other tall mastiff presents himself. Hist ! sleigh-bells in the 
 
334 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 distance nearer nearer yet it is he at last ! and in walks 
 the parson with a very red face, when the whole of the congre- 
 gation rise to their feet, and the service commences. 
 
 Sometimes, if the morning should prove unusually severe, or 
 the minister has a friend staying with him, he will not make his 
 appearance until the evening, and then candles are stuck round 
 the hut, in any cranny or crevice that offers, and these the 
 more enterprising members of the congregation are privileged 
 to snuff with their fingers. On one occasion I saw an officious 
 old settler mount a bench to perform this feat, and drop the 
 fragment of red-hot wick upon the bald part of a neighbour's 
 head, who expressed his obligations in very explicable terms. 
 The settlers are always cool and self-possessed. A farmer takes 
 his long sleigh-whip into church with him; a lady deposits her 
 galoshes, and muff, and gauntlets, upon the communion-table; 
 and no one hesitates to rise and warm him or herself at the 
 stove as often as inclination prompts. Seventeen dogs, eight 
 babies, and thirty settlers, are considered a tolerably fair con- 
 gregation. 
 
 1 was present at several "bees" and " breakdowns," but fes- 
 tivities of this nature have been so frequently described by per- 
 sons who have written accounts of their travels in the bush, 
 that I do not think I could say anything at all interesting or 
 novel upon the subject. 
 
 It will perhaps surprise you to learn that Wakefield boasted 
 of a theatre. It was pointed out to me by a respectable and 
 intelligent young settler, who, however, shrugged his shoulders 
 when he spoke of it, and said that he feared theatricals and 
 matters of that sort had met with their death-blow in "Wake- 
 field. The people, he remarked, were rather sore on the subject 
 of public assemblages and exhibitions. I asked him why so; 
 and, with a confidential air, he related the substance of the fol- 
 lowing grave story, which is, I fancy, a pretty fair illustration 
 of itinerant Yankee character, and almost worthy of classifica- 
 tion with the celebrated tale of the wooden nutmegs. 
 
 Some months prior to my arrival in the settlement, an ex- 
 tremely genteel-looking American gentleman (Professor Yow) 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 335 
 
 had visited it, and given the inhabitants to understand that he 
 had an idea of establishing a WHISTLING SCHOOL. He accord- 
 ingly took the theatre for the purpose, distributed his cards, 
 and appointed an evening for the delivery of his first lesson in 
 the art. Upwards of fifty of the young farmers, thinking it 
 would be a graceful sort of acquirement, gave their attendance. 
 The professor received the money himself at the door, and, when 
 they had all assembled, took his place opposite them upon the 
 platform, behind a small table, made a short appropriate speech, 
 drank a little water, rapped the table with his cane to com- 
 mand attention, and cried, " PREPARE TO PUCKER." 
 
 It occurred to Professor Yow's pupils that the admonition 
 was a somewhat singular one, but they contrived to preserve 
 their gravity, and await the result. " Gentlemen, are you all 
 ready?" asked he "Yes, quite," was the reply. "Very 
 good," said Professor Yow; "then PUCKER!" 
 
 The young farmers looked at each other, as they stood 
 in a row, with their eyebrows elevated and their mouths 
 screwed up (it must be remembered that they had not 
 yet received the order to whistle, which, I suppose, was a 
 subsequent affair altogether), and the sight was so parti- 
 cularly absurd a one, that two or three of the party laughed, 
 several others followed the example, and presently the whole 
 room was in a roar; upon which Professor Yow, pretend- 
 ing to be much disgusted and hurt at their conduct, de- 
 camped privately from the stage, locked the door of the barn, 
 and, putting the key in his pocket, left the company puckering, 
 and unable either to express their mortification, or effect their 
 escape. " You will have the kindness not to mention a word 
 of the story again," said the young farmer, when he had com- 
 pleted his narration, " as it might get wind about the country, 
 and I am afraid, if it did, we should never hear the last 
 of it.' 
 
336 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 HEAP THE SIXTIETH. 
 
 " A note from Mr Picket, sir," said a servant, as I sat one 
 morning at breakfast with Mr and Mrs Tiber " a note from 
 Mr Picket, sir, upon important business, and requiring an im- 
 mediate answer." 
 
 Mr Tiber begged ine to open it without loss of time. Ralph 
 wished to see me the moment I was disengaged, and I sent 
 word that I would be with him directly. 
 
 On my way down, I had occasion to pass Crazy Joe. He 
 was standing, with his legs stretched to their utmost width, in 
 the middle of the road, over a large tin wash-hand basin and 
 a bar of yellow soap. It was the first time -Joe had been known 
 to wash himself, and he was performing the operation with a 
 proportionate degree of energy and good-will. He used some 
 very exceptionable language, and cast a most satariic glance 
 upon me as I drew near him ; but the sight of the stout cudgel 
 I carried had the effect of nipping in the bud many of those 
 delicate little attentions which he would otherwise have felt 
 disposed to lavish upon me. 
 
 " What is the matter, Ralph ? " said I, as we shook hands, 
 and seated ourselves one on either side of the stove. 
 
 " I am thinking of retiring from business," replied Picket. 
 " I'm tired of it. I shall sell off by auction. Huge placards 
 tremendous sacrifice and all that sort of thing." 
 
 " But it will not do to lose money." 
 
 " Lose ! I have been a gainer. Look here ; cast your eye up 
 that column." 
 
 " True. Is this all profit ? " 
 
 " Every cent." 
 
 " You have not taken your first outlay into consideration ; 
 where is that ? " 
 
 " Eh ? ah yes to be sure ; I forgot that. Of course it 
 should not be lost sight of." 
 
 " Very well, put that down in figures here, and deduct the 
 other sum from it. How does ;the account stand then ? " 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 337 
 
 " Nothing from two is a two," muttered Picket, making the 
 required calculation ; " fifteen from twenty-four leaves a nine, 
 and carry one. Humph ! there must be some mistake here. 
 Examine it yourself." 
 
 I examined it, and looked rather grave. 
 
 " Don't forget the stock on hand," said Ralph ; " things are 
 not so bad, after all." 
 
 " You must get a clever auctioneer." 
 
 " I will be my own auctioneer. Yes, you may laugh, I don't 
 care for that. By the by, I have a favour to beg of you. I 
 shall want some trustworthy person to receive the cash. Will 
 you undertake the office of treasurer?" 
 
 " Willingly. When is the affair to come off? " 
 
 " This day week. I am sending handbills all round the 
 country. We shall have a glorious muster, depend on it. 
 And, with regard to your future movements, do you intend to 
 remain in Wakefield ? " 
 
 *' No ; I am for change." 
 
 " Give me your hand. There will be nothing to keep us 
 here ; what say you to be moving on in the direction of the 
 Grand River? " 
 
 " With all my heart ; I want to be in Montreal by the open- 
 ing of the navigation." 
 
 " And / in Quebec, to bid farewell to one or two of my bro- 
 ther officers before I embark for England. It is all arranged 
 then. I wish the sale was over, and our knapsacks already on 
 our backs." 
 
 HEAP THE SIXTY-FIRST. 
 
 Picket's store was crowded to suffocation on the morning of 
 the sale. There were settlers from all the surrounding villages. 
 Wakefield had never been so full. Picket was in very good 
 spirits. " I shouldn't care if all the world were here," whispered 
 he in my ear, " as long as there are none of the officers of the 
 th. I should never hear the last of it ; " and Ralph be- 
 gan to read the conditions of the sale. 
 
338 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 He was interrupted by Major Pocock, who inquired (sar- 
 castically) whether he (Picket) had got a license ; intimating 
 further, that, if so, he should like to see it. 
 
 " Have the kindness to step this way, then," said Ralph, 
 clutching his hammer with some ferocity. 
 
 Major Pocock made one step forward, and then two back. 
 Dr Grundy, who, like his friend, had not endeavoured to 
 render himself at all pleasant, effected a hasty retrograde 
 movement also. Picket cast a contemptuous glance upon 
 both, and opened the business of the day. 
 
 The company, who had all been previously regaled with 
 biscuits and wine, were in a buying mood, and Ralph's goods 
 fetched most exorbitant prices. A great deal of merriment 
 and jocularity, too, was occasioned by his very off-hand and 
 original mode of performing the auctioneer. His person and 
 address were both pleasing to them, and the enthusiasm of the 
 assembly reached an extraordinary pitch. It was a somewhat 
 novel and droll position for a young aristocrat, and a lieu- 
 tenant in Her Majesty's forces to occupy, and Ralph fully 
 entered into the whim of the hour. Nor did Picket think of 
 himself only, as will be seen by the following pleasant little 
 passages in his business-like proceedings. 
 
 "Lot 54, ladies and gentlemen," cried he, "is an exceed- 
 ingly handsome four-post bed; pillar and claw, I believe or 
 castors but it comes to the same thing hangings, and all the 
 etcetera complete. A most admirable piece of workmanship; 
 fix a price upon it, somebody, if you please; anything you 
 like." (Here Ralph hammered a noisy young settler's head, 
 and told him not to talk.) "A hundred dollars, shall we say? 
 Well, fifty forty thirty. Twenty then there !" 
 
 Somebody nodded. 
 
 "Twenty that will do for a start; twenty-one; twenty- 
 two thank you, madam twenty-five; thirty; thirty- two 
 it's against you now thirty-six; thirty-eight; forty; forty 
 much obliged forty-two; forty-four; forty-six deeply grate- 
 ful, I am sure; forty-eight in two places; fifty" (alow bow); 
 "fifty-two just the price of the bolster going at fifty-two 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 339 
 
 pray be quick fifty-four; fifty-six now we are getting on 
 fifty-eight any gentleman like to try the bed, shall be happy 
 to let him do so fifty-eight; sixty; sixty without reserve, 
 recollect; sixty-two; sixty-four not half its value, but must 
 go; sixty-six; going at siKty-six; sixty-six, once; sixty -six, 
 
 twice; third and last time s ; thank you, it was nearly 
 
 gone; sixty -eight silence; sixty-eight cheap as dirt, upon 
 my honour be quick or you lose it sixty-eight; once more 
 at sixty-eight; third and last time" (very loud) "at sixty- 
 eight;" and down went the hammer. 
 
 "Jacob Towler," said Ralph, making an entry of the tran- 
 saction. 
 
 " I didn't bid, sir," cried Jacob Towler, in a terrified voice ; 
 "it's a mistake indeed." 
 
 " You nodded, sir," said Ralph, severely. 
 
 " I did not, I am sure, sir," persisted Jacob. 
 
 "I will appeal to anybody here," cried Ralph, looking 
 round, " whether Mr Jacob Towler did not buy that last lot ? 
 I call upon you to speak the truth, and state whether Jacob 
 Towler did not make me a bidding." 
 
 " Yes, yes, he did, he did," exclaimed several voices, for the 
 settlers thought the lot had gone dear, and were anxious not 
 to have business delayed; so the bewildered Jacob was pro- 
 nounced to be the purchaser of the four-post bed and hangings. 
 Nor did the poor tailor's bewilderment end here ; for a second, 
 third, and fourth lot were knocked down to him under simi- 
 larly mysterious circumstances. In addition to the four-post 
 bed, therefore, he now found himself the proprietor of a hand- 
 some table, six chairs, an American clock, a sofa, several pic- 
 tures, a carpet, a fender, and a set of fire-irons. In each in- 
 stance Ralph said that Jacob nodded, and the settlers one and 
 all (for the articles had gone dear) offered to take their affi- 
 davits that such was precisely the state of the case. 
 
 Nor were these the only misunderstandings that arose. 
 There was an elderly widow lady, in very reduced circum- 
 stances, to whom several lots, consisting of a barrel of sugar, 
 a gigantic canister of tea, and a quantity of choice printed 
 
340 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 calico dresses, were successively knocked down. The widow 
 lady, to the last, protested her innocence of all intention to 
 purchase the effects named, but Picket, who could not have 
 been mistaken, said that he saw her head move when he 
 looked at her; and upon his appealing to the bystanders 
 touching the fact of her having so done, they declared stoutly 
 that there was no mistake at all about it. 
 
 A third misunderstanding which took place affected the in- 
 terests of a lone emigrant Irish lady, by name Mrs O'Flanna- 
 gan, whose husband had lately been killed by the fall of a tree. 
 This distressed female was convicted of having effected no less 
 than three purchases; to wit, a bale of flannel, two barrels of 
 flour, six couples of pattens, a jar of honey, thirteen pairs of 
 warm winter stockings, seven pounds of raisins, a scarlet cloak, 
 a flitch of bacon, some useful chamber crockery, and four 
 deal boot-jacks. Ralph Picket maintained that Mrs O'Flan- 
 nagari was the purchaser of these goods; and to Mrs O'Flan- 
 nagan the purchase of them was accordingly attributed. Thus 
 ended the first day's sale. 
 
 There was a great, confusion afterwards, when the settlers 
 came to remove their respective lots. Ralph's memoranda 
 were more copious than explicit, and many awkward alterca- 
 tions respecting the amount each purchaser had to pay natu- 
 rally accrued. The reader will not feel surprised, therefore, to 
 learn, that when, other business being over, Jacob Towler, the 
 reduced widow lady, and the distressed Mrs O'Flannagan, pre- 
 sented themselves before him, Picket shut up the memorandum- 
 book sharply, refused to go into further particulars, descended 
 from his perch, and handing the astonished parties receipts in 
 full for their responsibilities, bade them get their wares away 
 at once, and not give him any further trouble in the matter, 
 injunctions which they fulfilled with very great alacrity. 
 
 The second day's sale passed off in every whit as amicable 
 and pleasant a manner, and was productive of a trifling little 
 incident to which I cannot forbear adverting. "When Ralph 
 Picket purchased the good-will and stock-in-trade of Daniel 
 Thumb, he bought the house and premises with it, and, among 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 341 
 
 other things, Daniel's spirited little horse. This horse was in- 
 cluded in Picket's extensive sale by auction, and had beeti 
 knocked down to Major Pocock, who outbade everybody. But 
 the major was so imprudent as to leave the animal all night 
 in the shed at the back of the log- house lately occupied by 
 Picket. As the natural result of such imprudence, the fol- 
 lowing morning, when the major went to take possession of the 
 quadruped, the horse was gone, and in its place stood a forlorn- 
 looking brute, that was blind of one eye, lame of three legs, 
 had a nose curved like a sickle, and not above six bristles in 
 his tail. Major Pocock drew the afflicted animal out by the 
 halter, and led him round the settlement, in the hope of stimu- 
 lating the sympathies of his acquaintance. But unfortunately 
 the spectacle rather excited their risibilities than otherwise; 
 and with much wrath, and many hearty execrations, Major 
 Pocock led his melancholy purchase back to its stall. It will 
 be almost superfluous for me to add, that the perpetrators of 
 the outrage were never dragged to justice. 
 
 HEAP THE SIXTY-SECOND. 
 
 It was not without regret that I turned my back upon the 
 little village of VVukefield. It is true that the settlement itself 
 had few attractions for me, but I had become very partial to 
 the society of Mr and Mrs Tiber, and bade them farewell 
 with a great deal of reluctance. I had every inducement to 
 spend the remaining portion of the winter under their hospi- 
 table roof; but, as Picket had decided upon leaving the place, 
 and he had my promise to become his " compagnon de voyage," 
 I concealed my dissatisfaction in the best manner I could, and 
 held myself in readiness to start with him upon the morning 
 appointed. 
 
 Ralph was in unusually low spirits when he mounted the 
 sleigh so low, indeed, that I began to fear he was taken se- 
 
342 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 riously ill. He assured me, however, that there was nothing 
 the matter ; that he was accustomed to these low fits, and 
 begged me not to take any notice of him. Just then some of 
 the settlers came to shake us by the hand once more, and 
 among the rest came Major Pocock. 
 
 " Good-by, gentlemen ; Heaven preserve you both/' cried 
 the major, with excessive politeness and feeling. " Your me- 
 mory will be truly dear to us. I hope you will neither of you 
 catch cold, nor get your noses frozen. Our settlement is ex- 
 periencing a most serious loss to-day. This is a painful busi- 
 ness, gentlemen." 
 
 " Pray drive on," muttered Ralph, " or I shall be doing that 
 worthy fellow some grievous bodily harm ;" and, waving our 
 hands again to Harry Tiber, and throwing a parting token of 
 our esteem to Crazy Joe (who was picking a plump fowl on an 
 adjacent door-step), we dashed into the depths of the surround- 
 ing forest. 
 
 " Direct for Bytown, on the Ottawa, eh ? " asked Ralph. 
 
 " Yes ; there is a fine fall there which I have a desire to see. 
 We shall reach it to-morrow night, and the next evening but 
 one, if you wish it, we can be in Montreal." 
 
 " I don't know why I should think so," said Ralph ; " but 
 I have a presentiment that I shall never see Montreal any 
 more." 
 
 " Are we to be eaten by wolves then to-night, or squeezed 
 by a bear in the morning which ? Why do you talk in this 
 foolish way?" 
 
 " I can't help it. I have had an unpleasant dream. I fan- 
 cied I saw you digging a grave in the snow, and laying me 
 in it." 
 
 " You had expressed a wish to be buried alive, I suppose? " 
 
 " No ; I was dead, and there was blood upon your hands." 
 
 " I killed you then ; was that it ? " 
 
 " I don't know who killed me, but I saw blood upon your 
 hands ; and when you had buried me, you made a great fire, 
 and sat by it, warming yourself, and glancing about with a 
 wild look that I shall not easily forget. Yes, you may make 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 343 
 
 light of the matter, but it has had a deeper effect upon me 
 than I can conveniently explain." 
 
 " I am not a believer in dreams," said I, urging the horse to 
 greater speed ; and neither of us spoke again for more than an 
 hour, when we stopped to bait at a lonely farm-house. By 
 the time we had resumed our journey, the day was drawing to 
 a close. Night then set in, and Picket manifested a disposition 
 to fall asleep ; but I told him, if he did, he would never awake 
 any more, as the cold was intense. He roused himself, but 
 soon grew drowsy again ; and this time I was obliged to shake 
 him by the coat collar, before I could get him to open his eyes. 
 
 ** You had better drive, Ralph," said I, handing him the 
 whip and reins ; " it will keep you awake." 
 
 Picket nodded, and received them. Presently he gave me 
 a violent prod with his elbow. 
 
 "What is the matter?" I asked. "You were going to 
 sleep. We had better both drive. You take the one rein, and 
 I will take the other." 
 
 In this manner we proceeded another ten miles through the 
 dismal pine forests. We then drew" up at a miserable log inn, 
 and called for a bed. As there was no accommodation for the 
 horse, I insisted upon having him in the hut near the stove. 
 The landlord, who lived a solitary life, and was a most ruf- 
 fianly-looking fellow, objected at first ; but an offer of proper 
 remuneration overcame his scruples, and Picket and I refreshed 
 ourselves with a comfortable night's repose. 
 
 In the morning, the settler entered the room abruptly, as I 
 was getting up, and told me that the horse was stiff. Our vil- 
 lanous host had opened the door of the house long ere daylight, 
 and driven the animal out into the cold. Picket and I told 
 the fellow in good round terms that he was a brute, and re- 
 fused to give him one cent for our night's lodging. He grew 
 insolent, and, threatening to detain us till we had discharged 
 our bill, slammed the door to. One blow from Picket's rifle- 
 stock, however, accompanied by a vigorous kick from myself, 
 sent it flying from the hinges ; and, shouldering each his 
 knapsack, we proceeded upon our journey on foot. 
 
344 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 HEAP THE SIXTY-THIRD. 
 
 Day had broken gloriously ; the skies wore their purest 
 azure, and the rising sun was moving in unclouded grandeur 
 up the blue firmament above. The graceful trees, attired in 
 their delicate mantles of snow, caught the vermil tints of his 
 early ray, and seemed to smile in the welcome light. Squirrels 
 sprang from bough to bough ; high over the topmost twig of 
 the tallest pine a few wild birds were wheeling in the frozen 
 air ; and now and then, as we gaily trudged along, the expand- 
 ing ice on either side our path would explode with a sound 
 like the sharp ring of musketry, or the roar of a mimic can- 
 nonade. 
 
 For eight hours did Picket and I toil on through the snow- 
 laden woods, and, at the expiration of that time, as there did 
 not appear to be much probability of our meeting with another 
 log inn, we kindled a fire, and sat down on the trunk of a 
 fallen hemlock, with the intention of resting ourselves, and 
 partaking of our slender stock of refreshments. Picket had 
 recovered his usual flow of spirits, and was just drawing my 
 attention to the exquisite white drapery of a gigantic cedar a 
 little in front of us, when the quick crack of a rifle fell upon 
 my ear, and Ralph dropped back helplessly into my arms. 
 My surprise was so perfect, that for a moment I was incapable 
 of either thought or action ; then I turned my head in the di- 
 rection whence the missile of death must have proceeded, and 
 a second bullet whistled close past my ear. I laid poor Picket's 
 head quickly upon a little heap of soft leaves, and seizing my 
 loaded piece, ran as fast as I could toward the spot where 
 I supposed the assassin to be lurking. I saw the prints of re- 
 treating snow-shoes, and followed up the trail for some dis- 
 tance, but, as my feet were not similarly shod, I had great 
 difficulty in making my way over the snow, and soon saw that 
 pursuit would be useless. The fiercest impulses of rage and 
 revenge were working in my breast, but I strove to be calm, 
 and returned to my wounded friend. A crimson foam stood 
 
WHITTLINGS FKOM THE WEST. 345 
 
 upon his lips. I cut open his coat, and baring the manly 
 breast beneath, saw a little blue mark upon its left side. I 
 spoke to Ralph ; he gave no reply. I placed my hand upon 
 his heart ; it had ceased to throb. Life was extinct. Picket 
 was a corpse ! 
 
 As I replaced the linen over his bosom, the miniature of a 
 young and beautiful girl slipped into my hand. I looked at 
 the blooming features, and thought how pale their original 
 would grow, could she for whose sake that treasured gift had 
 been worn, be conscious of what was at this moment passing 
 in the snow-clad solitudes of a distant land. 
 
 My resolution was soon taken, but Picket had first to be put 
 out of the reach of the wolves, who are able to scent their prey 
 from a long distance. I scraped a quantity of snow together, 
 and, building a sort of cave, placed the body in it, and imme- 
 diately in front made a fire calculated to last many hours. By 
 the time I had done this, the forest was growing grey with 
 the shadows of evening, but I was not to be diverted from my 
 purpose. I waited until the moon rose (a moonlight winter's 
 night in Canada has almost the brilliancy of day), and, taking 
 my rifle, put myself again upon the trail of the snow-shoes. 
 
 For a considerable distance the prints were quite apparent, and 
 went steadily on in one direction; but at length they branched 
 suddenly to the left, and finally disappeared in the beaten 
 track of a clearing. I saw instantly that some artifice had 
 been practised here, so I returned to the spot where the trail 
 had diverged, and proceeding straight onward, in place of go- 
 ing to the left, examined the snow very carefully. The impos- 
 ture was evident. The wearer of the shoes had walked back- 
 wards, and covered the prints of his steps with loose drift as 
 he went. He had persevered in this manoeuvre for upwards 
 of a hundred and fifty yards, and then, deeming the secret of 
 his course safe, had found himself able to dispense with the 
 troublesome but ingenious deception to which his fears had in- 
 duced him to have resort. 
 
 Notwithstanding, however, that I had now a most palpable 
 trail to direct my movements, I made but slow progress. I 
 
346 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 had no snow-shoes, and few people who have never experi- 
 enced a difficulty of the kind, can conceive the amount of fatigue 
 that a hunter, unprovided with such necessary appendages, 
 has to endure in journeying through a snow-clogged pine 
 forest. Every stride he takes buries his leg to the hip, and it 
 is only by dint of a strong effort that he is able to release it 
 again. The constant repetition of this wearying process, added 
 to the innumerable falls and bruises he from time to time 
 meets with, soon exhaust as well his mental equanimity as his 
 corporeal energies, and he has frequent occasion to pause for 
 the recruitment of both. But no provocations or fatigues 
 could have worked a change in my purposes, or induced me 
 to shrink from the task I had imposed upon myself; and 
 I stumbled onward with a sort of calm doggedness, and spirit 
 of desperation, such as no event of my life had ever awakened 
 in me before. 
 
 I was not surprised to find the shoe-prints leading me in the 
 direction of the log inn at which Ralph and I had passed the 
 previous night. I had from the first suspected the owner of 
 this place to be the murderer of Picket. I drew the old charge 
 from my rifle, substituted a fresh one, capped the nipple anew, 
 and stole cautiously to within twenty yards of the door. The 
 dead horse lay near. The wolves had eaten part of him, and 
 I doubted not that the return of the settler from his errand of 
 blood had scared them from the repast ; and yet no sound pro- 
 ceeded from the hut. I tried the door ; it was fast. I went 
 to the back, raised the latch noiselessly, and entered. I heard 
 the dismal ticking of a clock, but nothing more. I walked 
 into the next room. The bed had not been slept in. Perhaps 
 the villain feared for his safety, and had fled. Perhaps he had 
 gone out, and would return. I could wait. 
 
 There was a species of loft above, and this I had not yet ex- 
 plored. It was approached by a narrow ladder, and I ascended 
 at once. The moon showed me another bed here, but finding 
 it empty, I returned below, and sat down by the stove, which 
 still contained some warm embers. The monotonous ticking 
 of the clock annoyed me. It seemed to say, "Poor Ralph 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 347 
 
 Picket poor Ralph Picket poor Ralph Picket!" I arose 
 from my seat, and was about to lift my hand to the pendulum, 
 with a view of stopping its loquacity, when, as though the 
 machine was revenging the insult, one of the upper weights 
 ran furiously down, and, with a sort of brazen yell, the alarum 
 went off. I was strangely startled, and without accomplishing 
 my intention, resumed my seat. No sooner had I done so, 
 than the clock again seemed to say, " Poor Ralph Picket poor 
 Ralph Picket poor Ralph Picket!" So I arose a second 
 time, and stopped the nuisance effectually. Then there was a 
 profound stillness, and I felt doubly alone. 
 
 I remained in the log hut, waiting the settler's re-appear- 
 ance, until morning began to break, and then I was seized 
 with a kind of impression that the wolves had found Picket's 
 body, and were devouring it. With much reluctance, there- 
 fore, I determined to return, and give his remains decent inter- 
 ment. I left the house as quietly as I had entered it; but be- 
 fore I had proceeded a hundred yards an idea occurred to me, 
 and I retraced my steps. I found some straw and other com- 
 bustibles in a shed near, and taking a quantity back with me, 
 placed them on the floor of the hut. I next piled all the 
 settler's chairs and tables upon them, applied some live embers 
 from the stove, and, opening the window to create a circula- 
 tion of air, once more took my departure. In a few minutes 
 the whole hut and back premises were in a blaze, and, looking 
 back, I saw the snow melting from the branches of the sur- 
 rounding trees, and, freezing again as it ran, form itself into 
 long luminous pillars of ice, which imparted an unusual bril- 
 liancy to the conflagration, and presented one of the most gor- 
 geous spectacles I have ever beheld. 
 
 I found Picket's body unharmed. The wolves had been 
 prowling about the spot, but the fire had prevented them from 
 committing their intended abominations. The corpse was 
 frozen, and fixed so fast to the snow that I could scarcely raise 
 it from the ground. I wished to bury it in such a manner as 
 would baffle the ingenuities of the pack of hungry animals that 
 I felt sure were lurking somewhere in the neighbourhood. In 
 
348 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 my anxiety for the safe disposal of Picket's body, too, I alto- 
 gether overlooked the probability of the wolves presently com- 
 ing back, and attacking me in the midst of rny operations. 
 
 I was the whole of the day in scooping a fit grave for Ralph. 
 I had not only to remove the snow, which was several feet in 
 thickness, but to dig down some distance into the hard earth 
 beneath, that he might not be disturbed any more until the 
 last dread trump should summon him to confront his assassin. 
 At length the task was completed, and I placed him in that 
 long home, with the miniature on his breast, and his face turned 
 to England. A sigh was his only requiem, a tear was his only 
 epitaph; but the blue skies of a lovely clime will canopy his 
 slumbers, arid her oaks drop acorns on his grave! 
 
 ******* 
 
 Evening had closed in when I reached a settlement. I took 
 the landlord of the inn, who was also a magistrate, aside, and 
 communicating the whole of the particulars of the murder to 
 him, asked his advice. He told me that, if I wished him to do 
 so, he would have the affair investigated ; but, in the event of 
 that, he should have to detain me, unless I would give him my 
 word of honour to appear when my presence was required. 
 
 " As this will be a great clog to your movements, however/' 
 said the worthy magistrate, " I advise you to allow the affair 
 to drop altogether." 
 
 " What ! and let the villain who murdered him escape? No, 
 I will wait." 
 
 "Then we must have the body disinterred, and hold an in- 
 quest over it." 
 
 "Is that absolutely necessary?" 
 
 " Yes. Was he rich or poor, high or low born?" 
 
 "Rich high! why do you ask? Death makes all equal." 
 
 "Has he any valuables on his person?" 
 
 " Money, a miniature, and a jewel or two." 
 
 " Tell me where you have buried him," said the settler with 
 a glistening eye. " It is a pity that the poor lad should lie 
 there. I will have him taken up and put into the settlement 
 graveyard. Describe the position of the spot." 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 349 
 
 " Go, without turning either to right or left, along the con- 
 cession line of road, until you come to a burnt pine, bare of 
 branch or leaf. Then take two hundred paces in the direction 
 of the rising sun, and dig." 
 
 "The body is there?" 
 
 "Dig dig till you find it;" and, waving my hand to the 
 covetous innkeeper, I bade the scene of poor Picket's last 
 moments a final adieu-. 
 
 HEAP THE SIXTY-FOURTH. 
 
 Bytown possessed few attractions for me. I had letters of 
 introduction, but I was not in the mood to cultivate or enjoy 
 the society of strangers, and determined, as soon as I had 
 visited the cataract, for which the place is famous, to proceed 
 without delay to Montreal. I accordingly walked down at 
 once to this cataract; but, although it is a fine one, I was upon 
 the whole grievously disappointed." I had pictured to myself 
 a terrific cascade, surrounded by wild and romantic scenery. 
 The spot boasted of no such charms. I found a suspension- 
 bridge, and several extremely unpicturesque-looking houses, 
 and premises, and people ; and am not quite certain whether I 
 did not catch a distant glimpse of something like a canal-lock, 
 but I did not look again for a confirmation of my suspicions, 
 and went rapidly back to the town, with the intention of 
 engaging a sleigh and pair of horses for the morrow. 
 
 On the morrow I started from Bytown for Montreal. The 
 day was lovely, and, had I been in better spirits, I should have 
 enjoyed the drive very much. My course lay down the Ottawa 
 not along its banks, but upon the river itself which was of 
 course frozen over, and hidden under a yard depth of snow. 
 I stopped to dine at Lochaber, and to sleep at a village called 
 (if my memory serves me) Hawkesbury. The next morning 
 early I jumped into the sleigh again, and had the good fortune, 
 presently, to meet with a rather agreeable adventure. 
 
350 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 Two exceedingly pretty, rosy peasant girls, and a handsome, 
 manly young fellow their brother, who were proceeding to 
 Montreal to be present at a wedding, had been overturned into 
 the snow. Their horse had grown restive, and kicked the 
 sleigh almost to pieces. They were in an extremity of grief, 
 and altogether despaired of reaching the place of rendezvous by 
 the appointed time. The gentleman stormed, and stamped, and 
 shook his fist at the lamed horse, and the young ladies wrung 
 their hands and wept at intervals. Matters were at this cri- 
 tical pass when I arrived upon the spot, and tendered any as- 
 sistance it might be in my power to render. 
 
 " You are very obliging," said the gentleman, *' but nothing 
 can be done, I fear; the sleigh is broken to atoms, and as for 
 
 the horse ;" and here he began to abuse the animal afresh. 
 
 " Pray, are you bound for Montreal ?" asked he, as soon as the 
 fit was over. 
 
 " Yes, and can accommodate two of you in my sleigh. I fear 
 a third would be more than I could manage; still, if " 
 
 ** Will you kindly allow these two ladies a seat with you 
 It is a good deal to ask, but what can be done ? I will follow 
 on foot, or perhaps I may be able to hire a horse at the next 
 settlement." 
 
 Our arrangements were soon made. The ladies deposited 
 themselves by my side, and I drove on. Their brother, how- 
 ever, ran after me, and begged that I would oblige him with 
 my card. I produced one, and he seemed perfectly satisfied 
 with the whole proceeding the moment he had learned that I 
 was an Englishman. 
 
 The nearer we drew to Lower Canada, the keener grew the 
 climate. At last the cold became so intense, that I was obliged 
 to resign the reins to one of the sisters (their names were Vic- 
 toire and Terese), and beat my hands violently together, to 
 restore the suspended circulation. Soon afterwards the plump 
 little hands of Terese got into the same disastrous state, and 
 (Yictoire having now taken the reins) the office of patting and 
 chafing devolved upon myself. Then it was Victoire's turn to 
 freeze, and similar specifics had to be resorted to again, accom- 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 351 
 
 panied by applications of snow to the extremities of her refrac- 
 tory little fingers, which, under a less skilful mode of treat- 
 ment, would never have recovered their natural warmth and 
 properties. And thus " on we fared," through the quiet vil- 
 lages of St Rose, St Andrews, St Eustache (the battle-ground 
 of the late rebellion), St Martin, St Lawrence, and at length, 
 as day drew to a close, over the Isle of Jesu, to the gay and 
 beautiful city of Montreal. 
 
 HEAP THE SIXTY-FIFTH. 
 
 I had no sooner established myself in my old quarters at 
 Montreal (where it was my intention to remain until the ice 
 should break up), than I went to call upon some of my old 
 friends, among the principal of whom was Colonel Banjo. I 
 paused at the gate of his pretty villa, for there was a gloom 
 about the place which struck a chill to my heart. The blinds 
 were down ; some of the shutters were closed ; and the colonel's 
 great Newfoundland dog failed to greet me as I approached. 
 All this looked bad. It was evident that great changes had taken 
 place. I went round to a back-door, and saw an old woman 
 walking slowly and thoughtfully up and down the large room 
 with the bow windov/, which looked out upon the garden. She 
 had her hands behind her, and was pacing the bare boards with 
 an air very similar to that of Napoleon at Elba. I inquired for 
 Colonel Banjo. She shook her head. 
 
 'Is he dead?" I asked. 
 
 "No, not dead; oh dear, no." 
 
 " What is the matter then ?" 
 
 " He has got himself into trouble. Did you ever hear him 
 talk of one Major Bilberry?" 
 
 " Yes ; I have met him here once or twice." 
 
 " Ah ! " and the old lady shook her head again in a manner 
 which plainly indicated that she thought no good of him. I 
 then learned that the colonel had become security to a consi- 
 
352 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 derable amount for bis friend the major, and very nearly ruined 
 himself. He had saved a little from the wreck of his fortunes, 
 however, and removed to a small cottage, shut up in a garden, 
 a short distance out on the other side of the mountain. I was 
 anxious to see my hospitable old friend once more, and pro- 
 ceeded direct to his hermitage. 
 
 He was sitting by the stove, in a sort of greenhouse, and 
 smoking a cigar with much placidity; but the moment he saw 
 me, he sprang to his feet, extended his hand, and, taking me 
 into his little parlour, called loudly for Mrs Colonel Banjo and 
 his daughter the daughter who used to play so charmingly 
 upon the piano. 
 
 " It's all over," said the colonel, as soon as we had greeted 
 each other and seated ourselves; "no place to entertain com- 
 pany now. Everybody cuts me even old Bilberry ; but he'd 
 better not show himself here, I can tell him." 
 
 "You may say so," said Mrs Banjo, with a sceptical smile; 
 " but I know that, if the major were to come, you would shake 
 hands with him directly. I am sure you would." 
 
 " The major had better not make the trial, madam," said 
 Colonel Banjo, working himself up into a frightful passion. 
 " He is too old a fox for that." 
 
 Just at this moment Luke Squiif most appropriately entered. 
 
 " That boy, sir," said Colonel Banjo, suffering the heat of his 
 wrath to smoulder, and turning confidentially to me, " is worth 
 his weight in in topazes. He wouldn't leave me; we couldn't 
 drive him away: he and old Beadle wouldn't turn deserters like 
 the rest. No, no ; there's a pair of them." 
 
 Old Beadle was the large Newfoundland dog, to whom the 
 reader has already been introduced; and here, as the diminu- 
 tive Luke Squiff (who had come to lay the cloth for dinner) 
 appeared to be much affected by the kind manner in which his 
 master spoke of him (he shed some large fat round tears, which, 
 as they stood upon his blue jacket, might have been mistaken 
 for mother-of-pearl buttons), the colonel changed the subject, 
 by demanding a history of my movements since I had left 
 Montreal, as well as a prospectus of my future peregrinations. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 353 
 
 The next visit I paid was to the Hotel du C . There also 
 
 many sad changes had taken place. Sundry of the boarders 
 had removed to other hotels, and among the rest the worthy 
 Mr Benjamin Chaffers, whose festive qualities had caused him 
 to be expelled the establishment rather suddenly. Mr Dudge, 
 too, had left, and with him his particular friend the proprietor 
 of the barrel-organ. I had not time to inquire after the re- 
 mainder of the select party, for there was a report that the ice 
 upon the St Lawrence was about to "shove," and I rushed 
 down immediately to the river side, in the hope of witnessing 
 so exciting and extraordinary a scene. 
 
 But the ice did not shove that day, nor the next; and an old 
 clergyman who was residing in the same boarding-house witli 
 myself, confidently predicted that it would not shove for an- 
 other fortnight or three weeks. Nor did it. The " shove" took 
 place on the 1st of May. I was standing upon one of the 
 wharfs, talking to a friend, and unfortunately had my back 
 turned to the river. While I was thus engaged, I was startled 
 by a great shout, and, upon looking round, found, to my morti- 
 fication, that the grand catastrophe for which I had been so in- 
 dustriously watching had already taken place. Where all had 
 a moment since been one monotonous extent of level snow, 
 there were now visible a thousand miniature mountains of solid 
 ice, which, with their blue edges and angles refracting the 
 sun's rays, presented a most novel and brilliant spectacle. 
 From that instant all became bustle and activity in Montreal. 
 The long, tedious winter was over; spring was at hand; the 
 snow would shortly disappear from the city streets; the ice 
 would drift down into the gulf; navigation would open ; and 
 the whole face of nature undergo a pleasing and a salutary 
 change. 
 
 The 1st of May is always a busy season in Canada. All, or 
 at least the majority of those people who have an idea of chang- 
 ing their residences, effect the matter on this day, and the 
 streets become the theatre of many an odd and amusing scene. 
 I witnessed one rather droll thing. A ricketty vehicle, contain- 
 
354 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 ing about thirty empty hampers, was moving leisurely along the 
 Rue Notre Dame. They formed a lofty pyramid, of which one 
 hamper rather more bulky than the rest was the apex, and in 
 that stood the proprietor of them all, who was superintending 
 their transit. He had stationed himself there, I suppose, by 
 way of joke; but the matter went rather beyond that, for sud- 
 denly the rope which steadied the whole load broke; the pile 
 tottered to its base; and with a most desperate bump, down 
 came the gentleman, enclosed in his car of triumph, to the 
 very ground, and down came the remaining nine-and-twenty 
 hampers, one after the other, upon the top of him, in which 
 critical position he lay like the genii at the bottom of the sea, 
 till a kind and enterprising fisherman, running to the spot, suc- 
 ceeded in extricating him from his difficulties. 
 
 The 1st of January is also an important and stirring day in 
 Montreal, as well as the occasion of much kind feeling and fes- 
 tivity. Everybody calls to take a glass of wine and slice of 
 cake with his neighbour. All quarrels are forgotten, and all 
 little misunderstandings amicably arranged. People turn over 
 a new leaf. It offers you a good opportunity, too, of opening 
 an acquaintance with any family whose society you wish to 
 enjoy during the ensuing year; and, indeed, gives birth to more 
 good-fellowship and pleasantry than I can possibly describe. 
 It would be well if a similar custom prevailed in England, and 
 throughout Europe. How many a long-standing feud between 
 families might be thus adjusted! how many estranged hands 
 and hearts might then once more meet and mingle as of old ! 
 ******* 
 
 I went, on the evening of the 6th of May (for I intended to 
 leave the city upon the 7th) to pay my parting visit to Colonel 
 Banjo. I found him in the greenhouse, and opposite him sat 
 Major Bilberry ! The two veterans were smoking, and the 
 major's countenance wore an expression of much sorrow and 
 penitence. He had got the gout in one of his legs, and the 
 afflicted member rested upon a part of the stove. The eye of 
 Colonel Banjo beamed with its accustomed benevolence, but he 
 was looking bland, as it were, under protest. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 355 
 
 " We have got old Bilberry again, you see," said the colonel, 
 as he rose to welcome me and pass the bottle. " They have 
 rightly called us the ' inseparables.' " 
 
 Major Bilberry gave a little low growl. I was yet undecided 
 whether to regard it as an indication of pleasure, or the reverse, 
 when he relieved my doubts by saying, with a tremulous voice, 
 " Old Bilberry has ruined his friend, and that is one reason 
 why old Bilberry should come and sit with him. Other men 
 would perhaps have staid away." 
 
 Here Colonel Banjo arose suddenly from his chair, and 
 grasped the other warmly by the hand; then, vexed with him- 
 self for having betrayed so much feeling, he threw an empty 
 cigar-case at the head of Luke Squiff, and bade him beware 
 how he ventured within a yard of his chair during the remainder 
 of the evening. 
 
 Soon afterwards, Major Bilberry explained the purport of 
 his visit. I was glad to learn that he had come to sign over 
 the greater portion of his annual half-pay to Colonel Banjo, 
 until such time as the sum for which the latter had rendered 
 himself responsible should be liquidated. I was reflecting upon 
 the propriety of this step, when Luke put his head into the 
 room, and made several queer grimaces at me, together with 
 sundry and divers motions of the head and arm, for the whole 
 of which piece of strange pantomime I felt sadly at a loss to 
 account. The next minute, however, put me in full possession 
 of its meaning, for Miss Julia Trinket, the diminutive lady 
 whom I had shut up the year previously in the old clock at 
 Banjo Villa, ran into the room, and, looking me full in the 
 face, and clapping her hands, cried, " Philippine!" where- 
 upon both Colonel Banjo and Major Bilberry laughed immo- 
 derately, and declared that they had all along expected as 
 much. As the Philippine was fairly won, therefore, I had to 
 pay the customary forfeit, and the major lost his dozen of 
 champaign. 
 
356 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 HEAP THE SIXTY-SIXTH. 
 
 I left Montreal on the 7th of May. The steamboats began 
 to ply between Lachine and Kingston on that day for the first 
 time since the breaking up of the ice. The morning was very 
 warm, and the coach that conveyed me to the wharf from which 
 the vessel was to start, contained three or four more people than 
 it was either licensed to carry, or calculated to accommodate. 
 A Canadian coach or " diligence" is a rather ricketty affair, and 
 the present had more than an average share of infirmities, which 
 caused it to groan and vibrate in a most painful and alarming 
 manner. There was a certain Dr Lyon, too (a member of the 
 Legislative Assembly), of our party, who rendered himself par- 
 ticularly obnoxious by a mode of sitting with his monstrous legs 
 elevated to a level with his face. He was unanimously voted 
 a nuisance; but he seemed to care little for that, and ate 
 several sandwiches afterwards, with a calm air that provoked 
 us all amazingly. 
 
 I had travelled, it will be remembered, by water to Kingston 
 once before, so that the scenery had not the charm of novelty 
 for me; but the leaves were just bursting out upon the trees, 
 and there was a spirit of freshness and fragrance abroad, which 
 rendered the voyage a very delightful one. I did not remain 
 in Kingston. I proceeded by steamer the same evening along 
 Lake Ontario to Toronto (the ancient York), and from Toronto, 
 the next day, by steamer again to Queenston ; and thence by 
 waggon to the falls of Niagara! the majestic "thunder- 
 waters" of whose fame and grandeur I had heard and read ever 
 since I was a boy! I could scarcely believe that I was at 
 length indeed approaching this mighty cataract. I feared that 
 something would yet occur to frustrate all my plans, and seal 
 my heart's longings with disappointment. I shall never forget 
 my feelings, therefore, when I alighted from the waggon, and a 
 man told me that I was within five hundred yards of the Ame- 
 rican fall. I heard its unceasing roar, and felt the ground 
 trembling underneath my feet. I was so bewildered, that I 
 quite forgot to inquire after my luggage. A shrewd fellow 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 357 
 
 (Americans are so sharp) was just disappearing with it behind 
 a clump of trees in the distance. I ran after him, and seized 
 my portmanteau by the strap. The youth grew abusive, but 
 I held the tighter, and, dragging it after me, stumbled down 
 the steep bank facing the American fall. I saw a stupendous 
 cloud of mist, spanned by a glittering arch of crimson, purple, 
 and gold. The air around me was in a strange state of palpi- 
 tation; and for many minutes, what with the joy I experienced 
 in having my wishes gratified, and the incessant thunders of the 
 mighty torrent, and the unexpected sublimities of the scene that 
 met my gaze, I felt totally unable to collect my scattered senses. 
 I had now obtained a view of the American fall, and know- 
 ing that the great Horseshoe itself could not be far distant, 
 moved slowly away to the right. Clouds of crimson mist were 
 curling high into the blue heaven; the earth shook; and the 
 dancing air appeared to be one mass of rubies and amethysts. 
 I rushed dizzily down a flight of steep steps, reached the slippery 
 rocks at their base, and feeling the breath of the torrent's fresh- 
 ness upon my cheek, gazed upward^at its tumbling glories! 
 ******* 
 
 The majority of tourists and sight-seers who visit Niagara 
 take up their residence at a gigantic hotel on the American 
 side of the river, or at another, almost as big, on the British 
 shore. But I preferred retirement quiet and, with the view 
 of enjoying it, procured rooms in a neat little cottage which 
 overlooked the smaller of the two cataracts. I had a strong 
 dislike to the infliction of society and small talk while in a 
 sacred locality like this, and I fear by the sudden and myste- 
 rious retreats which I occasionally effected, when parties were 
 approaching me, I almost led them to believe that the place 
 was haunted. One evening, in particular, I recollect frighten- 
 ing an elderly gentleman and lady almost out of their wits. I 
 saw them advancing, and took refuge in a cave. The gentle- 
 man, at the request of the lady, came (rather timidly) to the 
 entrance, and began to make a strange noise, by way of pro- 
 voking the echoes. At the same moment he caught a glimpse 
 of me in the gloom, and, without pausing to have his fears 
 
358 WHITTLINGS FUOM THE WEST. 
 
 confirmed, or even consulting the safety of his wife, scampered 
 away, with a face whiter than any of the foam-flakes that glis- 
 tened among the pebbles at his feet. 
 
 I had often wished to see an eagle in his state of freedom, 
 and had that gratification on the second morning of my sojourn 
 at Niagara. I was lying upon Table Rock, viewing the won- 
 ders around me, when suddenly I beheld what I supposed to 
 be an immense mass of the projecting cliff in the act of falling 
 into the abyss beneath. The next moment, however and then 
 I knew the immense object to be an eagle it rose again, and, 
 soaring away grandly over the purple mist of the cataract, was 
 soon a mere speck upon the blue sky. 
 
 It is a customary thing for everybody who can muster the 
 necessary amount of nerve, to go once behind what is termed 
 " the curtain." I do not always like to have my movements 
 prescribed for me in this way, and yet I felt a desire to make 
 the experiment. A negro generally officiates as guide on these 
 occasions, and I expressed my readiness one day to accompany 
 him to Termination Rock, the limit of the adventurer's daring. 
 He shook his head, and said that the wind was too high then, 
 but he would take me on the morrow. I did not feel disposed 
 to wait, and was about to undertake the matter without his as- 
 sistance, when, fearful of losing his half-dollar, the black man 
 complied with my proposals, and (being properly equipped z. e., 
 cased in an oilskin coat, and a pair of slippers with a prodigious 
 development of heel) led me away by the hand along the dan- 
 gerous ledge. The wind was indeed high, and together with the 
 desperate spray beat so violently in our faces, that the negro 
 was obliged to release me, and think only of himself. Above 
 and before us was the tumbling torrent; beneath, the black 
 abyss; and behind, a bare, perpendicular rock, without one 
 solitary twig for hand to clutch. The black man turned his 
 back upon the fall, and said that we must return. I was seized 
 with a fit of obstinacy, and insisted upon proceeding. I gasped 
 the words out, for my breath was nearly gone, and my head 
 began to grow dizzy. " Go on!" shouted I in my guide's ear. 
 "No!" bawled he in mine; " de excitement is too great." 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 359 
 
 " There is no real danger," I urged. " Dere is great danger," 
 roared he ; " dere is de danger of slipping wid de foot, and de 
 danger of being choked." And there we stood, looking angrily 
 at each other I resolved to advance, and he to retreat, but 
 neither being able to move one step without the other's con- 
 currence. At last the wind moderated a little, and I bribed 
 the black man to complete his undertaking. With much diffi- 
 culty I then stretched my hand across his chest, and, leaning 
 forward as far as possible, touched the piece of iron on Termi- 
 nation Rock. In getting back again, I made a false step, and 
 lost one of my slippers. 
 
 I have already observed that the little cottage in which I 
 had taken up my abode stood upon the river's bank, and almost 
 facing the American fall. This cottage was in a continual 
 tremor, and frequently, when I opened the door, the palpitating 
 air without would almost close it again in my face. I have 
 heard it stated that the roar of the cataract can be heard for 
 twenty miles. Perhaps it may, when the wind sets in that 
 direction ; but I never heard it beyond three. I once, how- 
 ever, distinctly saw the mist of the great Horseshoe at a dis- 
 tance of nearly Jiffy miles. It was pointed out to me by a cap- 
 tain of one of the Lake Erie steamboats. 
 
 I staid a week at Niagara. One ought not to remain 
 longer; We should be able to enter fully into all the grandeur 
 of the scene, but not become too familiar with it. Let the 
 spectator wait until his wonder and awe are properly developed, 
 and then go away with his admiration at a climax. 
 
 The accompanying lines were not intended as a description 
 of what is altogether indescribable. I merely wished to paint 
 a few of the emotions which a contemplation of the cataract 
 generally awakens. 
 
 TO NIAGARA. 
 
 To mark thy world of milk-white waters, kiss'd 
 By the red beams of morning, downward spring, 
 
 And, in thy glittering sea of golden mist, 
 To watch the lordly eagle lave his wing ! 
 
360 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 Here God is all; man nothing meaner far 
 
 Than the least drop that decks yon gorgeous bow 
 
 Which gleams one little moment, like a star, 
 Then sinks, forgotten, to the depths below. 
 
 Throughout all ages from the birth of time 
 Hast thou been hymning thy Creator's praise; 
 
 Unwearied inexhaustible sublime! 
 To thee our years are minutes; ages, days. 
 
 And yet, in all things not unlike to us, 
 
 Thou hast thy sunny moments, and thy sad; 
 
 Thou dost not always love to dazzle thus 
 What grief hast thou to make thy brow less glad] 
 
 The curse that fell on all our guilty race 
 Sought out thee too upon thy rock-hewn throne;* 
 
 There is a pensive sadness in thy face, 
 
 And in thy voice a plaintive, touching tone. 
 
 Hence why I ever seek some quiet nook, 
 What time the setting sun gilds yonder steep, 
 
 And poring upon thee, as on a book, 
 
 Think mournfully of bygone days, and weep. 
 
 Thou art the panorama of the past; 
 
 About thee flit the phantoms of lost treasures; 
 With thee are joyous hours which flew too fast, 
 
 Youth's earliest hopes, smiles, loves, and purest pleasures. 
 
 All the sweet, warm, wild poetry of life 
 
 Moments unprized until for ever fled 
 With nothing of its turmoil and its strife, 
 
 May in thy rainbow-tinted page be read . 
 I am led back to childhood, as by one 
 
 Who scann'd each fond emotion of my breast; 
 Who knew which path to choose; which spot to shun; 
 
 Where memory loved to rove; and where to rest. 
 My native valley, and its peaceful lake, 
 
 Greet me once more, with their dark woods and dells; 
 I hear the song of wild birds in the brake, 
 
 And catch the far, faint tones of village bells. 
 
 And there are ivied cots, and harvest wains, 
 And gardens, rich in blossoms of all hues; 
 
 With happy moonlight wanderings in green lanes, 
 Kind words, and looks, and lingering adieus. 
 
 Not one familiar spot, one simple scene, 
 
 On which my longing eye has loved to bend 
 
 * Cursed is the earth for thy sake. Gen. iii. 17. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 361 
 
 Dim through the mists of tears that intervene 
 But greets me here like some departed friend. 
 
 There's not a gentle voice that has been dear, 
 
 Nor breath of music that has waked a sigh, 
 But steals again as softly on mine ear 
 
 As though it had been whisper'd from the sky ! 
 
 Enough, and welcome now old ocean's foam, 
 
 Welcome the blue mysterious realms of space; 
 For, henceforth, roving fancy has a home, 
 
 Imagination has a resting-place. 
 
 Farewell ! mine eyes will never look again 
 
 Upon thy solemn wonders, mighty Fall ! 
 I thank thee for each joy as well as pain 
 
 Thou hast awaken'd, or thou did'st recall; 
 
 For worthless, vain, were all thou could'st impart 
 To those who 'mid thy hallow'd scenes have trod, 
 
 Yet fail'd to view thee with a chasten'd heart, 
 And look "from nature up to nature's God." 
 
 HEAP THE SIXTY-SEVENTH. 
 
 Buffalo had few charms for me. The fact is (and perhaps 
 my tastes have become seriously depraved), I no sooner get 
 among human habitations and the bustle of business, and what 
 Wordsworth properly calls "the dreary intercourse of daily 
 life," than I find myself sighing again for the country and the 
 wilderness. I did not stay, therefore, to deliver my three or 
 four letters of introduction, but made immediate inquiries re- 
 specting the best mode of conveyance to Albany or Troy. 
 " You must go by canal," was the reply. " Is there not a 
 railroad?" "N-no." I was too indolent to make further in- 
 quiries, and going at once on board the packet, paid the cap- 
 tain the fare (eight dollars and a-half), and had my name put 
 down for one of the best berths the boat afforded. We had 
 no sooner started, however, than I discovered that I had been 
 duped. There was a line of railway to Troy, and the journey 
 was commonly performed in about four-and-twenty hours; in 
 place of which I had now the pleasant prospect of four days 
 
362 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 and nights' imprisonment in a little ricketty tub of a boat which 
 every moment became more disagreeable to me. " N'importe," 
 muttered I, "perhaps I shall meet with something new here;" 
 and this presentiment had a very speedy realisation. 
 
 I walked into the saloon, and there, looking as calm and 
 comfortable as ever, sat Dr Lyon, the easy gentleman whom I 
 had met a fortnight previously in the Lachine coach. He re- 
 cognised my features directly, and pushed out one finger for 
 me to shake, but I merely inspected it, and then made him a 
 signal that he might take it away. His excessive nonchalance 
 provoked me, and I resolved to be revenged by and by, when 
 a fit opportunity offered. 
 
 I shall not easily forget the horrors of this trip by canal 
 packet. The deck was so full of passengers, who were sitting 
 in all postures, that I could not walk along it without trampling 
 upon their legs; and in the cabin there were so many vulgar 
 people, and nursemaids with noisy infants, that I could not re- 
 main below five minutes with any degree of comfort. Dr 
 Lyon, too, was there, in a corner, with his pugnacious-looking 
 shoes on the sofa, and his filmy eye glancing patroriisingly 
 from one face to another. " I will sit in the steward's pantry," 
 thought I, " or, stay, I will go to bed ; I shall be retired enough 
 there. But, heyday ! where can all the beds be?" 
 
 Toward one o'clock the dinner-bell rang, and Dr Lyon was 
 the first at the table, whetting his knife upon the steel, and 
 feeling the edge with the air of one who had carved when I 
 was a boy. An American meal is despatched in about seven 
 minutes. It is a solemn affair. Nobody talks, everybody 
 eats, and there is no leisure for politeness. I offered a lady 
 near me a slight attention, and several people on the opposite 
 side of the table stared at me with open mouths, as wishing to 
 see the sort of young man who could so far neglect his own 
 interests as to look to those of another. Even the busy Dr 
 Lyon glanced toward me, while his pudgy chin creased with a 
 little fat smile, which plainly said, " This young fellow is evi- 
 dently a novice in the art of taking care of himself at table. 
 Ha! ha! he will know better by and by;" and the doctor 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 363 
 
 grasped his plate suddenly, for a waiter, seeing him look up, 
 fancied he had done, and was about to snatch it away. That 
 moment's inaction was nearly fatal to the easy gentleman. 
 
 Dinner over, Dr Lyon slept an hour and a-half. Somebody 
 began to talk, but Dr Lyon frowned in his slumbers, and held 
 up his hand in a faint way, imploring silence, so the conversa- 
 tion dwindled away to a whisper. Having enjoyed his forty 
 winks, the doctor then put his pocket-handkerchief over his 
 head, and marched about the saloon with his hands under his 
 coat-tails; pausing occasionally, however, to pinch an infant's 
 cheek, and chuck the rosy nursemaid under the chin. 
 
 There was a great sameness in the canal scenery. I did not 
 like it at all. An artificial stream of water is the ugliest thing 
 in nature, but I was much interested in many of the towns 
 through which we passed with Rochester and Carthage, for 
 instance. They put me in mind of what I have read of Vene- 
 tian cities, with the water gliding under the very windows of 
 the houses. Had the buildings been a little mellowed by 
 time, and had there been a gondola or two in sight, containing 
 a veiled lady, and a gentleman in a steep hat near her, thrum- 
 ming a guitar, the resemblance would have been complete. 
 
 The day done, night at hand, and a number of narrow slips 
 of board, suspended under each other by coloured string, hav- 
 ing been hung around the saloon, passengers went to bed. I 
 had been sitting on deck, and when I went down and inquired 
 for berth No. 4, I found that Dr Lyon had got it ! His coat, 
 and pantaloons, and black gaiters were depending over the back 
 of a chair close by. I called the steward, and he referred to the 
 book. He told me that I should have secured my bed the 
 moment it was hung. Dr Lyon pretended to be asleep, but I 
 knew very well that he was wide awake. My first impulse 
 was to cut the string of the shelf, and let him fall; but, 
 as there happened to be an invalid gentleman in the nook 
 underneath, the experiment would have been attended with 
 unpleasant consequences. I smothered my dissatisfaction, 
 therefore, and with much difficulty procured another berth. 
 It was close to the red curtain which separated the gentlemen 
 
364 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 from the ladies, and I overheard the latter laughing and talk- 
 ing all night. The majority of them were full of mirth and 
 anecdote, and if the babies had been a little less refractory, 
 the hours would have flown by agreeably enough. 
 
 In the morning, I was awakened by the steward, who told 
 me that I had better get up, as he wanted to dress the tables 
 for breakfast. I saw a great many passengers putting on their 
 boots, and tying their cravats, and brushing themselves, but 
 not one of them performing his ablutions. I inquired where 
 this matter was usually arranged, and the steward led me to a 
 metal basin. There were about thirty gentlemen round it. 
 waiting their turns. A jack-towel and looking-glass hung 
 near, as well as, depending by a string, a brush and comb, 
 minus most of their bristles and teeth. I did not patronise the 
 public brush and comb; I had my own in a carpet-bag. The 
 fact of my having resorted to them, however, appeared to wound 
 the feelings of everybody but one middle-aged gentleman, who 
 was walking hurriedly about the saloon, with a face expressive 
 of much agony. I could not learn the cause of his indisposi- 
 tion : nobody seemed to know. 
 
 The second day of our aquatic excursion was even more in- 
 tolerable than the first. The one had, at least, the recommen- 
 dation of novelty ; the other had no recommendation what- 
 ever. The same things occurred again, and the scenery had 
 few charms. I was glad when dinner and tea were over, be- 
 cause bedtime drew near ; but, when that had arrived, I dis- 
 covered, to my intense provocation, that Dr Lyon had got ray 
 berth again ! It was partly my own fault, because I had, as 
 before, been sitting musing upon deck, and came down late. 
 The coat, pantaloons, and gaiters, occupied their old position. 
 I was not inclined to create a disturbance, and alarm the 
 ladies, so stole away to my old quarters near the red curtain. 
 
 Upon the morning of the third day we touched at Utica, 
 Rome, Salina, and Syracuse. And here, as the locality sug- 
 gests it, I think I can relate a little anecdote, which will go 
 far to prove that some people are certainly born to ill-luck. 
 On board the canal packet with us was a young farmer who 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 365 
 
 had come from the district of London, in Upper Canada, and 
 was on his way to Boston. When lie stepped on board the 
 boat, he had with him a canary bird in a cage, a fine fierce 
 mastiff' dog, a handsome seven-barrelled revolving pistol, and 
 two hundred dollars in silver. The money and pistol were in 
 his breast-pocket, the canary bird he placed by his side, and 
 the dog he tied with his handkerchief to the handle of one of 
 the passengers' trunks, which stood upon the fore-part of the 
 deck. He was an honest, simple sort of fellow, and had 
 amused everybody by his innocent remarks, and ignorance of 
 the world and its ways. Before he had been among us an 
 hour, the canary's cage rolled from its place, and fell over- 
 board. As he leaned sorrowfully over the boat's side, in the 
 hope of recovering his pet bird, the seven-barrel revolving 
 pistol fell from his pocket, and disappeared also. He would 
 have dived for it, but the captain (whose time was valuable) 
 would not allow him, and we moved on. The next day, the 
 mastiff slipped his collar, leaped ashore, and was soon out of 
 sight. The captain again refused to wait, and the youth shed 
 tears. By and by we stopped at a place called, I think, New 
 Liverpool, and he went ashore. I had cautioned him about 
 talking of his money, or exhibiting it. On his return, he told 
 me that it was all gone. He had produced it upon a tavern 
 table, and some sharpers had profited by the stupidity. I en- 
 deavoured the next day to collect a few dollars for him among 
 the passengers. The packet had just stopped again for a 
 minute or two. Where was the simple young farmer ? He 
 had jumped to land, and would be back in a moment. "Go 
 on," cried the captain to the man who drove the horses and 
 the unfortunate owner of the canary bird, mastiff, seven-barrel 
 revolver, and two hundred dollars, was heard of no more. 
 
 I was successful in obtaining my proper berth the next 
 night, and there having been a grand influx of fresh passen- 
 gers, Dr Lyon had the misfortune to fail in securing one at 
 all. He made so terrible a commotion, however, and his cause 
 was espoused so enthusiastically by the married ladies, that the 
 steward had an extra sleeping-place slung up to the centre of 
 
366 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 the cabin roof for him, just bet ween the two ranges of legitimate 
 berths along the vessel's sides. And now I had full scope for 
 my malice. My shelf was precisely level with Dr Lyon, and 
 he was no sooner asleep than, thoughtful of my wrongs, I 
 leaned forward, and with my walking-cane gave his hammock 
 (to the bottom of which his person had imparted a graceful ro- 
 tundity) a smart push, that set him swinging from side to side 
 in a manner which must have been far from agreeable. The 
 motion awoke him, and, putting his head forth, he looked 
 about. Presently I gave him another push, and a gentleman 
 who was lying in an opposite shelf, and had witnessed the pro- 
 ceeding, entering suddenly into the joke, gave the cot a push 
 from his side also, so that, between the two propelling powers, 
 the afflicted doctor enjoyed but a small degree of comfort, and, 
 unable to account for these strange oscillations, took a second 
 observation, and then moaned miserably. This measure gained 
 him a momentary respite. No sooner had he lain down, how- 
 ever, than his troubles recommenced, and the cot began to 
 rock and pitch even more distressingly than before, until at 
 length Dr Lyon, exasperated beyond endurance, suffered his 
 choler to vent itself in the bitterest anathemas upon the ham- 
 mock, and the canal, and the boat, and every person in and con- 
 nected with it. My wrongs being now sufficiently avenged, 
 therefore, and feeling too drowsy to carry the persecutions fur- 
 ther, I hung my walking-stick to the cabin, roof, and com- 
 posed myself to sleep. 
 
 The next night the ladies had become so numerous, that 
 there were no beds at all for the gentlemen, and we had either 
 to prop ourselves upon chairs, or lie upon the saloon floor. It 
 was the most miserable I ever passed, and I was thankful 
 when the boat arrived at Schenectady, upon the river Mo- 
 hawk, and I was able to leap ashore. It was the first time I 
 had ever travelled by canal boat, and I made a resolution that 
 it should be the last. 
 
 From Schenectady I went to view the Cohos, or falls of the 
 Mohawk river. They are indescribably grand. I waited in 
 hope that the sun would come out, and add the beauty of his 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 367 
 
 many-coloured bow to the glories of the cataract. But I 
 waited in vain. 
 
 The same evening I reached Troy which is a lovely little 
 city the most delightful I have ever seen. All the streets 
 and squares are bordered with stately trees, which lend a 
 pleasant shade in summer, and diffuse a most agreeable cool- 
 ness and fragrance around. I gazed a long time at one re- 
 tired row of houses, fronted by a lawn and shrubbery. A 
 troop of merry school-girls, with coquetish-looking bonnets and 
 dishevelled hair, were sporting about the lawn. I could not 
 help wondering whether any pleasure of their after lives would 
 equal the heartfelt joyousness of this May morning romp. 
 
 Oh dreams of childhood, hopes of youth, 
 
 Oh sunny days of yore, 
 Your very griefs would glad some hearts 
 
 Which can be gay no more. 
 
 I should have watched their gambols longer, but I saw the 
 green carpet-bag and black gaiters of Dr Lyon turning an ad- 
 jacent corner. 
 
 HEAP THE SIXTY-EIGHTH. 
 
 I had heard a great deal of the sect termed " Shakers," and 
 entertained a strong curiosity to see some of them, as well as 
 to witness their so-called religious exercises. I was informed, 
 however, that, in consequence of some people who had visited 
 their place of worship having misconducted themselves, the 
 elders had lately refused everybody admittance. This piece 
 of intelligence disheartened me very much, but, as I had so 
 long looked forward to a treat of the kind, I was determined 
 not to leave the neighbourhood of so strange a fraternity with- 
 out having made one more effort to obtain a sight of them. I 
 waited therefore in Troy until Sunday, then, hiring a calash, 
 drove to Niskayuna, the nearest Shaker settlement. 
 
 I believe that a woman by name Ann Lee, born about the 
 
368 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 year 1740, and daughter of a Manchester blacksmith, founded 
 the order of Shakers. At the age of thirty she became subject 
 to most alarming fits, accompanied by terrible contortions of 
 the body, and a total derangement of her mental faculties. 
 She believed herself to be the mother of the Messiah, and en- 
 dowed with the gift of strange tongues. She gave her dis- 
 ciples to understand that she held nightly converse with God 
 (who, she said, had commissioned her to call together his elect 
 from the different parts of the earth), and that all those who 
 rejected her intercession would be damned. Ann Lee fur- 
 thermore stated that she should never die, but be caught up 
 like Elijah of old to the clouds in a chariot of fire. Man- 
 chester, however, was no field for the propagation of these 
 novel doctrines, and in the year 1774 she emigrated to the 
 neighbourhood of Albany, in the state of New York, and, as I 
 have already observed, became the founder of the present 
 community of Shakers. And here, in the course of time (not- 
 withstanding her prediction to the contrary), she died, like 
 other children of Adam. Peace be with her ashes ! 
 
 An old proverb tells us that nothing, however preposterous, 
 which has once had a mother, will die for want of a nurse. 
 We see the truth of this adage verified daily. The Shakers 
 have now become a large and important body of people. They 
 hold extensive tracts of land, and occupy many villages. They 
 are very civil, too, and well-behaved ; nor are they dependent 
 on their fellowmen (whom they view as heretics) for any one 
 thing, except toleration a virtue, by the by, which they them- 
 selves do not put in practice. They grow their own corn, spin, 
 their own flax, weave their own cloths, build their own houses, 
 and make their own coats, hats, and shoes. Shaker fruits and 
 seeds are held in high estimation, and always find a market. 
 But the Shakers do not marry. If wedded couples join them, 
 they are separated forthwith. They think the world rather 
 overstocked than otherwise with people, and accordingly dis- 
 countenance (?) anything like a multiplication of the species. 
 
 Anybody may become a Shaker. If he is a mere pauper, 
 no matter, they receive him ; and if a man of wealth, his riches 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 369 
 
 go into the general fund. Should he afterwards wish to leave the 
 society, he can do so but naked as he was born. He is lost; 
 nothing can save him. 
 
 I began to fear, when I arrived at Niskayuna, that I should 
 be denied admittance. I had been told by a person who way 
 intimate with one of the Shaker ladies, that if I inquired for 
 " Aunt Betsy," she would most probably pass me in. I left my 
 horse and calash at a neighbouring farm, and, entering the 
 village with a decent and respectful air, walked straight to the 
 house of meeting. It was empty, but a tall brother appeared 
 from an adjoining room, and asked my business. I said that I 
 was an Englishman, and, having heard much of the Shaker 
 views and form of worship, wished to learn more of the one, 
 and witness something of the other. He replied that I could 
 not be admitted: it was against the rules. I then inquired 
 boldly for Aunt Betsy. Aunt Betsy was at her devotions, but 
 the mention of her name evidently had its effect. "Many of 
 your countrymen have misconducted themselves here," said my 
 grim friend ; " they have laughed at us." I was nearly laugh- 
 ing too, but fortunately did not. TlTe Shaker said, " Sit down 
 here, until I learn the pleasure of the elders;" and he went 
 stealthily away. I put my hat and stick upon one of the 
 benches, and seated myself beside them. A solemn stillness 
 prevailed. I heard the ticking of my watch in my waistcoat 
 pocket. 
 
 Anon my ear caught the fall of distant footsteps, and I 
 thought I was going to be ordered out. I had the magic name 
 of Aunt Betsy again upon my lips, when lo! at an opposite 
 door there entered, in single file, upwards of forty pallid ladies, 
 clad in shrouds. The sudden advent of so many spectres struck 
 a horrible chill to my heart. They walked gravely, on tiptoe, 
 to a row of pegs upon the wall, hung up their bonnets and 
 mantles, and arranged themselves upon some benches at the 
 other end of the building. They then folded their hands on 
 their laps (every Shakeress had a clean towel depending over 
 her right arm), cast their eyes to the ground, and sat mute and 
 motionless as statues. The majority of them were elderly and 
 
 2 A 
 
370 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 middle-aged women ; but I saw six or eight very handsome 
 young girls among the number, one of whom, having acciden- 
 tally caught my eye, started as though somebody had stabbed 
 her, and fixed her glance once more on the ground. 
 
 Soon afterwards the male Shakers made their entree, and, 
 hanging their hats and coats upon an unoccupied party of pegs, 
 took their seats (in shirt sleeves) opposite the ladies. Each 
 brother had his arm tied above the elbow with a black ribbon. 
 His hair was cut close in front, but left to grow behind. The 
 white locks of the old men looked like little cataracts streaming 
 down into their coat collars. Their waistcoats and trousers 
 were of a bluish-grey cloth, and they wore high-heeled shoes 
 similar to those patronised by the lovely sisters. 
 
 For about a quarter of an hour there was a deathlike silence. 
 They were screwing their minds up to a proper pitch of devo- 
 tional feeling. An old Shaker then stepped forward, and said, 
 " Brothers and sisters, it is a solemn worship we are about to 
 engage in, and I hope we shall all go through it with becoming 
 decency;" and thereupon about fifteen of the men, arranging 
 themselves against the wall under the hat-pegs, and converting 
 their long lean hands into flappers, beat the air with them, and 
 chanted a doleful chorus, which consisted of a see-saw tune, 
 and the words, " Law de law de law de law, law de law de law 
 law; law de law de law de law, law de law de law law." 
 
 The moment the music had reached a proper climax, all the 
 other men sprang to their feet: the women imitated their ex- 
 ample; and, like hostile armies rushing to the charge, together 
 chanting loudly the while, the two bodies of fanatics advanced 
 upon each other, but checked themselves at the point of colli- 
 sion, pirouetted cleverly, and retreated, back to back ; pirouette 
 again forward double quick step back advance retire, 
 forty times; then halt on a sudden, and end the manoeuvre by 
 every man and woman jumping a yard into the air, and coming 
 simultaneously down again with a tramp that shakes the build- 
 ing.! Recover seats. Hands clasped as before. Eyes down. 
 Take breath. 
 I had the very greatest difficulty in preserving my gravity 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 371 
 
 during this exquisitely grotesque scene, but I knew that, if I 
 allowed a muscle of my face to denote the merriment I felt, four 
 or five of the stoutest Shakers, who were watching me narrowly, 
 would bound forward and drag me instantly to the door. And 
 by degrees my mirth subsided it changed to pity. I was pro- 
 voked and disgusted, beyond measure, to see so many decent 
 and elderly people (men with white hair, and women with the 
 wrinkles of sixty summers) thus playing the buffoon, and per- 
 suading themselves, as well as endeavouring to persuade others, 
 that an exhibition like the present could be acceptable to Him 
 who is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity. I can readily 
 believe that the hearts of many of these deluded creatures were 
 really in the work. They were sincere, as far as sincerity could 
 associate itself with such cow-like gambols, and earnestly sup- 
 posed they were purchasing eternal salvation with the per- 
 formance. 
 
 The second saltatory recreation was much like the first, but 
 the time of the music was slower, and the persons went sliding 
 about in a most sly and stealthy manner. Their movements 
 were rather analogous to those of a person who finds himself 
 mounted on skates for the first time. Satan was supposed to 
 be on the prowl among them. After awhile, however, having 
 successfully evaded him, they all broke into a quicker step and 
 sprightlier song. I committed one verse of the latter to paper, 
 and nearly got turned out for it. The words ran as follows: 
 
 " Strike upon the pleasant lyre 
 
 To the music of our song; 
 We will sing a joyful song 
 To Mount Zion's king and queen." 
 
 In the next dance, the figure changed again, and the air to 
 which they moved was more lively still. It was one of the 
 popular negro melodies, with the time slightly altered. The 
 Shakers now formed themselves into a ring, and (singing and 
 flapping as they went) trotted round as fast as possible one after 
 the other (like the circular hobby-horse in a fair), while the 
 Shakermes, arranging themselves in another ring, within the 
 former, revolved in an opposite direction. The scene was 
 
372 WHITTLINGS FKOM THE WEST. 
 
 really pretty, and, as a whole, now put me strongly in mind of 
 a figure in the lancer quadrilles, or one of those artificial 
 Chinese fireworks we see in a phantasmagoria. The words 
 chanted were something to the following effect. They are, like 
 the others, tame and tautological: 
 
 " While we walk the golden streets 
 
 Of the New Jerusalem, 
 Holy angels march before us, 
 Playing on their harps of gold." 
 
 The spirit of the present dance, as did each of the previous 
 ones, grew still more bri^k and exciting towards the close, and 
 ended in a similar manner, with a flap of extra strength, a caper 
 r. early a yard high, and a deafening tramp, like eighty dragoons 
 dismounting suddenly in a parlour. 
 
 The principal elder now came forward. He was much 
 flushed, and quite out of breath. He looked complacently 
 around, and said, " That is well, brothers and sisters. / think 
 our bodies are now Jit temples for the Holy Ghost to dwell in;" and 
 having offered up a short extempore prayer, he resumed his 
 seat. A long pause ensued. It was broken by a young Shaker, 
 who advanced, and opening his Bible, chose a text. The 
 words were these, "I will stand when trials and afflictions 
 come." The preacher had a bad delivery, and a most repulsive 
 nasal twang. His discourse was a clumsy, ungrammatical, un- 
 connected piece of vulgar rhapsody. He strongly advocated 
 the Shaker doctrines, and stated in very plain terms that all 
 those who did not embrace them would be burned everlastingly. 
 Then, glancing toward the seat I occupied, he exhorted me not 
 to tamper with my religious convictions, but enter the true fold 
 at once, and suffer myself to be plucked like a brand from the 
 general conflagration. He bade me beware also of rejecting 
 his present proffers of grace, and going away with a hardened 
 heart and conscience. But still, like an obstinate heretic, I 
 " made no sign," and the young Shaker, after regarding me 
 forbiddingly for several minutes, at length closed the book with 
 a clash, as one who would not be played with, and had shut the 
 gates of mercy for ever against me. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 373 
 
 I have thus endeavoured to describe much of what I wit- 
 nessed in the Shaker meeting-house at Niskayuna. Some may 
 perhaps think that I have availed myself too liberally of the 
 traveller's license. But I have not. It would be impossible 
 for me to exaggerate absurdities like these, and there is a great 
 deal that remains untold. I am not anxious to relate it. It is 
 a painful thing to see a respectable -looking young woman place 
 herself in the centre of a large room, and, moved as she believes 
 by the Holy Spirit, with arms extended, whirl round until she 
 becomes almost invisible. It is a still more painful thing to 
 behold men and women, labouring under a similar delusion, 
 rolling promiscuously about upon a hard floor, howling, weep- 
 ing, groaning, and beating their bosoms until they grow black 
 in the face. All these piteous spectacles may be witnessed, 
 upon particular feast days of that sect, within the " sacred" 
 walls of a Shaker house of worship. 
 
 I walked back in a thoughtful mood to the farm-house near 
 which I had left my horse. He gave a loud neigh as I ap- 
 proached, and I had no sooner jumped into the calash behind 
 him, than he laid his ears down, and scampered away home- 
 ward as fast as his legs could carry him, with the air of an 
 animal that had come there quite against his will, and wished 
 to get as quickly as possible out of a neighbourhood where such 
 strange abominations were practised. 
 
 ******* 
 
 A day or two after my visit to the Shaker village, I left Troy 
 for New York. I shall not attempt to describe the magnificent 
 scenery of the Hudson. It far exceeded my expectations, and 
 reminded me forcibly of that along the shores of some of our 
 own beautiful English lakes. The sweet villas and rural retire- 
 ments, too, occasionally seen nestling among its green and 
 romantic heights, are such as, having once caught the traveller's 
 gaze, he allows to find a place among the other " beautiful pic- 
 tures" that " hang upon memory's wall." 
 
 But it was not without a pang that I beheld the spot where 
 the lamented Andre met an ignominious death. I am not, like 
 many people, disposed to think the execution of this gallant 
 
374 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 and promising young officer a blot upon the fair escutcheon of 
 Washington's fame. An impartial consideration of the cir- 
 cumstances of the case will fully exculpate that great man 
 from the charge of cruelty that has been preferred against 
 him. Washington was deaf to Andre's request to be shot, be- 
 cause the offence of which he had been guilty deserved su- 
 perior exposure and punishment. Major Andre well knew 
 that Arnold was a traitor a double traitor and he should not 
 have stooped to hold an instant's parley with so pitiful a cha- 
 racter. The end did not sanctify the means. An honourable 
 man should fight with honourable weapons, and to wink at the 
 treachery of another, is almost equivalent to playing the traitor 
 one's-self. Andre acted rashly, and few can deny it, though, 
 at the same time, they will deplore the mistaken zeal that 
 spurred him to the step, and drop a tear at the remembrance 
 of his untimely end. 
 
 FRAGMENT OF AN EPISTLE TO A FRIEND; WRITTEN AMONG 
 THE HIGHLANDS OF THE HUDSON. 
 
 'Tis a beautiful land; 'tis a glorious one 
 
 The richest and loveliest under the sun; 
 
 With its mountains, as noble, and stately, and high, 
 
 As ever held gossip with yonder blue sky; 
 
 With its forests, which stretch all untrodden away, 
 
 Till the wondering hunter turns back in dismay; 
 
 Its rivers strewn over with numberless isles 
 
 Rolling onward unwearied for thousands of miles; 
 
 Then its prairies, its lakes, its magnificent falls, 
 
 All that wins and that dazzles, attracts and appals, 
 
 Can this sunny clime boast, which, though soon we must part, 
 
 Long will hold a conspicuous place in my heart. 
 
 And be sure that, beside such bright fetters as those, 
 
 Which must link us till life itself draws to a close, 
 
 There are others the busy affections have wrought, 
 
 Some many hoped sighed for and others unsought, 
 
 To attach a fond heart, which feels more than 'twill tell, 
 
 To a laud where such wonders and novelties dwell. 
 
 On the banks of the Hudson that beautiful stream 
 Which surpasses all bard can imagine or dream 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 375 
 
 At the close of a calm and a bright summer's day, 
 Thus I trifle the bliss-laden moments away: 
 Looking on with a sigh to that hour, when, at last, 
 All my wanderings o'er and anxieties past, 
 I again may set foot on my own happy shore, 
 To love it the better, and leave it no more. 
 
 HEAP THE SIXTY-NINTH. 
 
 I was very much struck with the appearance of New York; 
 it was so entirely different from any town or city I had ever 
 before seen. The houses were so red; the windows so bright; 
 the blinds so green ; the bell-pulls and brass-plates so highly 
 polished; and the door-steps so prim-looking and so spotless. 
 I was by no means displeased to find that I had imbibed a 
 great many false notions respecting the ancient city of the 
 Manhattoes. 
 
 "Come, come," thought I, as I hurried back to the Astor 
 House, and began to rummage over my portmanteau for letters 
 of introduction, "I can spend a month or two here very agree- 
 ably; the first step, however, will be to make a few acquaint- 
 ances, without which, the time, after all, would pass but dully." 
 But what had become of my packet of letters? They were 
 not in my portmanteau. I had left them I knew not where; 
 perhaps at Buffalo; perhaps at Niagara; perhaps in Montreal; 
 and there was a strong probability of my having safely depo- 
 sited them in some quiet corner of Butternut Castle! Here 
 was a deathblow to all my anticipations of social enjoyment, 
 and I paced the room in despair. 
 
 " No matter," was my next reflection ; " I will trust to my 
 usual luck. I have sometimes found chance acquaintances pre- 
 ferable to prescribed ones; so, as fortune has denied me one 
 friend, like Horace Walpole (or was it Swift?), I will go to the 
 nearest coffeehouse, and take another. Meantime, I will leave 
 this great noisy hotel, and get me to some quiet lodgings where 
 I shall have peace and privacy." I rang the bell, and inquired 
 
376 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 of the waiter if he knew of a respectable boarding-house to 
 which he could recommend me. He ran to fetch a newspaper, 
 and pointed to upwards of fifty advertisements, inserted by 
 ladies who had just room left in their establishments for one 
 domestically-disposed single gentleman: but I shook ray head, 
 and begged to hear of somebody who was not in the habit of 
 advertising. "I have it, then/' said the waiter; "there is a 
 
 most select house of the kind in Square, No. ; Miss 
 
 Westbrooke's. Shall I order a coach for you ?" And, hastily 
 defraying my bill, I was whirled away, portmanteau and all, to 
 
 No. , Square, in the suburbs, where I had an interview 
 
 with a huge green parrot, of most impertinent propensities, and 
 an elderly maiden lady, whose manners, personal appearance, 
 and conversational powers, were all of a very superior order 
 indeed. I expressed a desire to take up my abode under her 
 roof, and she at once bowed acquiescence, but yet seemed to 
 hesitate. As a mere matter of form, she begged a reference to 
 some merchant, or other person, in the city. I could give 
 none. "Phew!" whistled the parrot. " What, have you no 
 letters of introduction ?" asked the elderly lady "I had, but 
 they have been mislaid." The parrot laughed heartily. " And 
 have you no friend in New York?" "None." The green 
 parrot descended slowly from his perch, and, under the pretence 
 of eating at the trough, said something of a rather disparaging 
 nature in an under tone. I felt a little perplexed, and, con- 
 sidering the business settled, was about to take my hat and 
 departure, when the maiden lady said, with a smile which in- 
 stantly re-assured me, she should for once dispense with the 
 formality of a reference, and begged that I would look upon her 
 house as rny home. So I sent a servant to discharge the coach- 
 man, and went to dress for dinner. 
 
 And now, since brother Jonathan is my theme, shall I join 
 issue with those high-minded and generous Englishmen, who 
 have gone to enjoy his kindness and hospitality, and then, like 
 little dogs that do not think of barking until they have got to 
 the other side of the gate, returned home to abuse him at 
 leisure? I have no such illiberal feelings and uncharitable 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 377 
 
 intentions. I consider our brother Jonathan a very ill-used and 
 much-injured man. Nine artists out often who have got him 
 to sit for his portrait, were vile daubers. They have not hit 
 the expression. None but the hand of a master can do him 
 justice. It is a common thing for some disappointed emigrant 
 to spend a few weeks in New York, or Boston, or Philadelphia, 
 arid mixing with none but the lower orders of society, fancy 
 he is qualified to descant upon the habits and customs of the 
 American people or, at all events, he describes the disgusting 
 propensities of the few dirty fellows he has met with, and leads 
 us to suppose that Americans are all alike. Would a traveller 
 from the United States be justified in judging of our English 
 aristocracy by the manners and conversation of the passengers 
 he encounters in a third-class railway carriage, or one of our 
 penny city omnibuses? There are low and vulgar persons in 
 all countries. We should quit the tavern, the cheap boarding- 
 house, the public thoroughfare, and enter the homes and culti- 
 vate the acquaintance of the higher classes. And, even then, it 
 would become us to be extremely cautious how we judge, and 
 what we write, for no man is without his prejudices, and they 
 are sure to colour his views and opinions. It is one of the 
 most merciful features of our British law, that no prisoner 
 shall be condemned until he is unanimously pronounced guilty 
 by twelve of his countrymen. If a prisoner, a felon, is shown 
 this handsome indulgence, shall a gentleman, a friend, a rela- 
 tive, be treated with less? Since it comes to the point, I do 
 not believe, for the reason I have just stated, that any one man 
 ought, or has a right, to pronounce a verdict in a matter of the 
 kind. He may think what he pleases for himself, but not for 
 the nation, who are too apt (more particularly as abuse has 
 grown fashionable) to have a leaning to the side of sarcasm 
 and ill-nature. 
 
 Such being my sentiments, therefore, I shall not be called 
 upon, nor do I consider myself at liberty, to indulge in any 
 severe strictures upon the habits and customs of the American 
 people. I have no hesitation in saying, however (for, as the 
 remark will injure nobody, I need not suppress it), that there 
 
378 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 are, in proportion, as many polite, elegant, and clever persons, 
 of both sexes, in New York, as there are in either London or 
 Edinburgh. I can furthermore vouch, too, that the American 
 ladies have no improper affectation of modesty, and that the 
 more select of the gentlemen do not carry tobacco-boxes, 
 ******* 
 
 I was much pleased with my new acquaintances. They 
 consisted of five lady and three gentlemen boarders. Of the 
 former, four were young, sprightly, handsome, and musical ; 
 and of the latter, one was a fine old man, with a perfectly bald 
 head, and the most benevolent expression of countenance ima- 
 ginable. He had a brother who stood high in Congress, and a 
 son with the American army in Mexico. This old gentleman 
 had been a great traveller, and his heart and mind were stored 
 with every kind feeling and every beautiful image. Of the 
 remaining two boarders, one was a sober, plodding merchant, 
 said to be realising great sums of money; and the other, a slight, 
 dapper youth of two-and-twenty, who had fallen desperately in 
 love with one of the handsome young ladies before mentioned, 
 and appeared to be labouring under a painful hopelessness of 
 success. His name was Molson. The young ladies were in- 
 troduced to me as the Miss Fitzherberts. The bald gentleman 
 was addressed by the name of Merrivale. They called the 
 merchant Mr Head ley. 
 
 There is no happiness, however, without alloy. With all 
 my new friends, and especially the lady part of them, I was 
 quite charmed, but the green parrot and I were soon at open 
 war, for he had one strain, among his selection of homely airs, 
 to which I was seized with an immediate antipathy. This was 
 a long shrill screech a sort of war-whoop in miniature that 
 pierced the brain, and set the teeth horribly on edge. The 
 maiden lady, too, seemed to think highly of the performance, 
 and, much to my mortification, even encouraged him in it. It 
 was quite enough to witness this ungainly bird's excessive non- 
 chalance, and gouty walk, and his ugly clamber up the side of 
 the cage, and overhear his sarcastic laughter and abusive lan- 
 guage, without having to undergo the additional torture of this 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 379 
 
 prolonged yell, and before many days had elapsed, my dis- 
 like for the author of these nuisances settled into a most 
 deadly hatred. Towards an ordinary parrot I could not have 
 entertained so much ill-will, but there was a superior intelli- 
 gence, and spirit of villany, and turn for repartee, about the 
 present one, which were amazingly provoking, and I felt strongly 
 disposed to take down some portion of his consequence. And 
 yet, how to accomplish this was the question, for (as I had 
 already observed) the moment a hand was slily raised to offer 
 Nabob (that was the bird's name) chastisement, Nabob's saga- 
 city forewarned him of the danger, and he would utter a shout 
 that penetrated the remotest corner of the house, and was sure 
 to bring the elderly maiden lady instantly to his relief. In 
 vain, therefore, did I, and the most wicked of the three young 
 ladies, and Mr Molson, and the old gentleman with the bald 
 head, sigh in the absence of his mistress to be revenged upon 
 the green parrot. There appeared to be no punishment for 
 him short of poison, and we had not the courage to administer 
 that, lest some disaffected person should succeed in tracing the 
 murder to our door. 
 
 HEAP THE SEVENTIETH. 
 
 I used to delight in a summer morning ramble about the 
 streets of New York. I always met with something novel and 
 amusing. No wonder the houses look so clean, and the win- 
 dows so bright. They are well washed every day. There is 
 a plentiful supply of water running past each door, and a ser- 
 vant has merely to fit the hose upon the pipe, and direct it 
 over the whole premises. I have seen fifteen or twenty house- 
 maids at a time performing this refreshing operation, and ap- 
 pearing to enjoy the tiling all the while very much. Nor is 
 this the only use to which the water may be applied. I have 
 seen obstinate and persevering pigs driven from door-steps ; 
 and a dirty fellow, who was too lazy to resort to soap and 
 
380 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 towel, washed quite white by its aid. He has got a friend to 
 play upon him, and gone away afterwards, if not a better, cer- 
 tainly a cleaner man. I have seen horses too brought to un- 
 dergo a like ablution, and it was entertaining to me to observe 
 how the animals, particularly in hot weather, appeared to relish 
 it ; turning first this way, and then that ; now presenting their 
 heads to the stream, and now their tails ; and whisking the 
 latter in a perfect ecstacy of delight. And I have seen them 
 glance at other horses that were passing, with a look that 
 seemed to say, " You have no idea of the luxury of this ; 
 try it." 
 
 There is an absence of formality, a sort of freemasonry of 
 good-fellowship and kind feeling, among the Americans, that 
 cannot fail to gratify a stranger. In the summer season it is 
 a common thing, in the more retired streets and squares, for 
 the people to bring their arm-chairs out to the fronts of their 
 houses, and sit there enjoying the coolness of the evening. A 
 door-step will sometimes present a whole family group, who 
 are sure to be safe from both observation and insult. They 
 are seen, and yet not noticed. The only rudeness they suffer 
 is from the mosquitoes, which bite rather boldly after a shower. 
 Indeed, the mosquitoes are a great nuisance at all times. They 
 fix themselves quietly upon your chin, or your forehead, or 
 your wrists, and ply their pumps until their dainty little sto- 
 machs are quite full ; then they go away in a state of reple- 
 tion, and hang themselves by one leg to the ceiling until their 
 appetites return. If you open a window at night, the room 
 is instantly swarming with mosquitoes, and there is a sound 
 as though forty gentlemen were blowing key-bugles in an ad- 
 joining parlour. You need not think of retiring to rest unless 
 your bed is provided with mosquito curtains. 
 
 ******* 
 
 In England, the moment a mob have collected there is sure 
 to be a fight. It runs in the British blood. Not so in Ame- 
 rica. I never saw such good-humoured mobs, No incivility, 
 no jostling, no bad language. They will rob you of your 
 watch and silver pencil-case, but they will be facetious over it, 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 381 
 
 and you cannot grumble. I once saw a stout old gentleman 
 (a member of Congress most probably) leaving a crowd with 
 a smile upon his face. All his pockets (of which he had about 
 nine, lined with brown holland) had been turned inside out, 
 and he looked, as he made away, with the wind flapping them 
 about, something like a fine fish with a rather bountiful sup- 
 ply of fins. 
 
 When I spoke in high terms of the cleanliness of the Ame- 
 rican houses and door-steps, I did not mean my approbation to 
 extend as far as the middle of any of the streets, which, owing 
 to some want of vigilance on the part of those who should look 
 after them, are made the repositories of every kind of offal 
 and filth. There needs reform here. It is no uncommon oc- 
 currence for small-pox, fevers, plagues, and other diseases, to 
 be viewed as angry visitations of Providence, when, in reality, 
 they are nothing more than the natural result of some popular 
 indiscretion similar to the one of which we are now treating. 
 I have no doubt that the city pigs, who are permitted the free 
 perambulation of all the streets and thoroughfares, would ob- 
 stinately oppose any innovations that came in the shape of sa- 
 nitary reform ; but, as the purity and wholesomeness of the 
 air that the people breathe should be the first consideration, 
 the sooner the nuisance is removed the pleasanter will be the 
 general aspect of things, and (it occurs to me) the more salu- 
 brious the climate. 
 
 The park, situated near, and running for some distance pa- 
 rallel with, Broadway, is a cool and agreeable retreat in 
 summer. It boasts many shady trees and pleasant prome- 
 nades, as well as a delicious fountain, which flings its spray to 
 the height of (if I recollect aright) more than thirty feet. 
 This fountain was a great favourite of mine, and I have sat 
 many an hour quietly contemplating it. To me there is always 
 something soothing and grateful in the sight of water whether 
 thrown up in a sparkling shower to the blue sky, as at present; 
 or dancing merrily down the mossy side of a green lane, and 
 making music among the pebbles as it goes ; or gliding peace- 
 fully along the margin of a daisied meadow ; or -leaping furi- 
 
382 WIIITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 ously from rock to rock ; or precipitating itself, a mass of foam, 
 from the top of some high steep into the dark abyss below. 
 How often, too, when far at sea, have I stolen from my ham- 
 mock in the dead of night, and sat, like a ghost, upon the 
 taffrail of our good ship, watching her silver wake, as she 
 breasted the buffets of the gale, and rode gallantly on her 
 course over the moonlit billows ! 
 
 HEAP THE SEVENTY-FIRST. 
 
 Perhaps there is no city in the world (and I believe it en- 
 joys the credit of being a rather dissipated one) that boasts 
 more pleasantry and entertainment for the traveller than the 
 city of New York ; and, as I had little else to do, I used to 
 pass away the time by strolling from one place to another, see- 
 ing a little of everything. My favourite resort, however, was 
 the Battery Garden, situated at the bottom of Broadway, and 
 fronting the beautiful bay. There, in one of the most retired 
 nooks, and under the grateful shelter of some noble trees, have 
 I often sat gazing upon the giant sun, as he sank calmly to rest 
 over the crimsoned waters ; and there, I candidly confess, 
 lulled by the rippling of the waves, and the cheery song of the 
 mariners, and the hum of passing voices, and the natural 
 poetry of the spot, have I enjoyed many a comfortable half- 
 hour's repose. Who could forego the delights of a seductive 
 little siesta like this in the very arms, as it were, of mother 
 nature ? Some of my happiest moments abroad were spent 
 beneath the shelter of those trees in the Battery Garden. 
 
 I was reclining under their cool green canopy, one quiet 
 evening in July, thoroughly abandoned to the numerous fan- 
 cies and delights so romantic a situation suggested, when I felt 
 the pressure of somebody's hand upon my shoulder. A tall, 
 handsome, olive- com plexioned young man, with dark curly 
 hair, and black whiskers meeting under his chin, stood be- 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 383 
 
 fore me. He extended his hand in a frank sort of way, 
 and I accepted it, making room for him at the same time upon 
 the bench on which I sat. He seated himself, took from his 
 breast pocket an elegant leather case, embossed with beads, 
 and, opening it, offered me a cigar ; which I accepted also, 
 wondering very much to what all this ceremony and politeness 
 was to lead. I was not left long in suspense. Striking a 
 scented match for me, he said, " You were fast asleep, and, I 
 have no doubt, dreaming very pleasantly. It was not the sleep 
 of a turtle- fed alderman, but that of a happy child, who, with 
 his hand full of primroses, stretches himself blissfully along 
 the mossy bank of some sunny rill, and has visions of the 
 ' better land.' Sleep is a telescope.'* 
 
 "Very pretty and poetical," thought I; "what next?" and 
 not knowing exactly what to say, I made a slight gesture of 
 approval. 
 
 " I passed and repassed several times, before I touched your 
 shoulder. You remember me, of course?" 
 
 " No, I have not had the pleasure of meeting you before." 
 
 " Look at me again." 
 
 " I am of that opinion still. Your features are quite un- 
 known to me." 
 
 " Did we not take coffee together, and play chess in Mon- 
 treal?" 
 
 " I recollect now, perfectly ; yes, in Donegana's hotel. It 
 was a drawn game, I think." 
 
 " You are right, and lasted upwards of six hours. It is very 
 strange that the circumstance should have slipped your memory ; 
 but I am altered a little perhaps ;" and my new acquaintance 
 laughed in a musical and fascinating manner, removing the 
 ash at the same time neatly from the cigar with his little 
 finger. 
 
 " Your name is Log, I believe? " said he. 
 
 "Yes, and yours?" 
 
 " Tregenza or Ernest or Captain, if you like it better. 
 Abel, too, is a much more agreeable word than Log. Log 
 sounds heavy, lumpish. Are you residing in New York ? " 
 
384 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 " For a season a month or two, perhaps." 
 
 " I hope we shall be better acquainted." 
 
 I bowed, rather coldly, for I did not know into what com- 
 pany I had fallen. He continued, "There is a fine view from 
 this Battery Garden. Are you fond of water scenery?" 
 
 " Yes; I have been admiring yonder pretty yacht. Is she of 
 American build?" 
 
 Captain Tregenza shaded his eyes, and gazed steadily at the 
 vessel alluded to, 
 
 "A Spaniard, I fancy," said he; "she has a very rakish 
 look, upon my word. A fast sailer, I have no doubt. Have 
 the goodness to excuse me for one second." And he went to 
 salute a group of ladies and gentlemen who were advancing. 
 They were respectable people, and I felt re-assured. There 
 was some easy conversation, a little laughter, a good deal of 
 shaking of hands, and my new companion again took his seat 
 by my side. One of the young ladies was handsome, and it 
 seemed to me or it was fancy that Captain Tregenza thought 
 so too. He fell into a reverie which lasted several minutes, 
 then roused himself, and inquired if I had many friends in the 
 city. 
 
 " Scarcely one," returned I, " for I have lost all my letters 
 of introduction." 
 
 " Heyday ! you must feel awkward ; come and stay with me. 
 I promise you I am no ascetic;" and he laughed again. " We 
 will board together, but be no clog to each other's movements. 
 You shall tell me candidly when my company will be dis- 
 agreeable to you; and I will not fail to hint as much when 
 yours is likely to prove irksome to me. What say you ?" 
 
 "The offer is tempting, but it comes late; I have already 
 engaged lodgings." 
 
 "No matter; shall we meet here to-morrow night, and 
 smoke another cigar?" 
 
 "If you will; I shall be found under this tree;" and, with 
 a mutual nod and smile, Captain Tregenza and I parted. He 
 walked slowly for a hundred yards, and then, having reached 
 the garden gate, passed rapidly up the left side of Broadway. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 385 
 
 No doubt he was going to sup with the pleasant family to 
 whom I had seen him speaking only a few minutes before. 
 
 When I arose to return homeward, I found myself almost 
 covered with small yellow grubs. The Battery Gardens are 
 infested with these. They let themselves down from the trees 
 by means of a fine thread, and hang dangling by dozens in the 
 air. They are quite harmless, of course, but a score or two of 
 them, creeping stealthily about a gentleman's hat and neckcloth, 
 are by no means an enhancement of his personal attractions. 
 ******* 
 
 Before I had spent a week in the society of my new friends 
 
 at No. , Square, I was perfectly reconciled to the loss 
 
 of my letters of introduction. Indeed, I felt so satisfied with 
 my present quarters, that, one morning as I was passing the 
 Astor House, I was seized with a sudden fit of generosity, and 
 ran in to push a dollar upon the waiter who had recommended 
 me to them. The Miss Fitzherberts (particularly Fanny, the 
 youngest of the orphans) played the piano and the guitar very 
 touchingly ; Mr Merrivale performed accompaniments on the 
 flute; Mr Molson was a proficient upon the cornopean; and 
 Mr Headley, the mercantile gentleman, had an extremely fine 
 rich manly voice, which was always at our service when we 
 wished to get up a duet or glee. The elderly maiden lady, too, 
 liked to see us cheerful, and took pleasure in anticipating our 
 wants, and contributing to our amusement. Indeed, we had 
 every comfort and enjoyment that we could possibly sigh for. 
 The only drawback to our happiness was the loquacity and im- 
 pertinence of the green parrot, who daily grew more personal 
 and abusive. 
 
 It was toward Mr Molson, however, that Nabob seemed to 
 cherish the largest amount of ill-feeling. He made a butt of 
 poor Mr Molson on all occasions, and said such exasperating 
 things, that I was in hourly expectation of seeing the green 
 parrot a corpse at the bottom of the cage. One evening, in 
 particular, I recollect Mr Molson was paying some select at- 
 tention and speaking tenderly to Fanny Fitzherbert, the ob- 
 ject of his amour, as they sat together at the dinner-table, when 
 
 2 B 
 
386 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 Nabob, without attempting in any way to soften the severity 
 of the stricture, cried, " Pooh, pooh ! put him out turn him 
 out!" It was in vain that we strove to suppress our merri- 
 ment; everybody laughed, except Mr Molson, and he sat si- 
 lently brooding over the insult. Soon afterwards the elderly 
 maiden lady left the room, and Mr Molson, who was unable to 
 nurse his indignation longer, springing from his chair, thrust 
 a thin walking-stick through the bars of Nabob's cage, and 
 began to persecute him sorely. Nabob at first viewed the at- 
 tack as a little sally of mirth and kind feeling on the part of 
 Mr Molson, but at length, observing it to assume an aspect of 
 determined hostility, he clambered hastily to the topmost turret 
 of his castle, and, throwing all his energy into the words, cried, 
 "Miss Westbrook! here! here!" A minute had scarcely 
 elapsed before descending footsteps were heard upon the stairs ; 
 the door opened, and Miss Westbrook presented herself. 
 
 "What is the matter?" inquired the little maiden lady. 
 (Mr Molson was reading.) "I am afraid that somebody was 
 teasing you. What did you call me for, Nabob?" 
 
 The green parrot, who, sagacious as he was, did not know 
 how to follow up an advantage, instead of replying in a re- 
 spectful manner, and recounting his wrongs, merely inquired 
 in a facetious way after the little lady's health, and then burst 
 into a shrill fit of laughter; whereupon Miss Westbrook, ex- 
 pressing her unwillingness to be hoaxed so again, snatched a 
 bunch of keys indignantly from the table, and resumed her 
 domestic duties. 
 
 The same evening, Mr Molson intimated a wish to have a 
 few words with me in private ; and, upon our retiring to an- 
 other room, he closed the door, and asked whether I had any 
 serious intentions in a certain quarter. I was a little in the 
 dark at first as to his meaning, but soon seeing the drift of the 
 inquiry, assured him he had no grounds whatever for a sus- 
 picion of the kind. He grasped my hand warmly. 
 
 " You have of course observed that I entertain a slight par- 
 tiality for Fanny?" said Mr Molson. 
 
 I had observed it. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 387 
 
 " You are often in conversation with her; what do you talk 
 about?" 
 
 " Eh ? my dear sir " 
 
 " No offence, I hope ; I merely wished to know whether you 
 think I have much prospect of success. Does she mention my 
 name at all ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes; frequently." 
 
 "In what way? Does she call me 'Molson?' or 'Mr 
 Molson?' or 'Leonard?' Tell me the exact words, if you 
 can." 
 
 " I would rather not." 
 
 " Nay, but I shall esteem it a great kindness if you will." 
 
 " I cannot recollect the precise words." 
 
 " Do you think she said ' Mr Molson ?'" 
 
 " I think she did." 
 
 " She never called me ' Molson ?' " 
 
 " Never." 
 
 "And you are sure she did not call me 'poor Mr Molson ?'" 
 
 " I believe that was the expression." 
 
 " What ! 'poor Mr Molson f" - 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Oh ! " Mr Molson leaned his brow against the wall, and 
 closed his eyes. 
 
 " Come, come," said I, " this will do no good ; it is not 
 manly. Never mope; never whine. Be cheerful; your suit 
 will prosper much better. Do you recollect what Sir John 
 Suckling says 
 
 ' Why so pale and wan, fond lover? 
 
 Why so wan and pale ? 
 Will, when looking well can't move her, 
 Looking ill prevail 1 
 Prythee, why so pale 1 ' " 
 
 " I will take your advice," said Mr Molson, his face bright- 
 ening suddenly. "Ha! ha! very true; you shall not see me 
 dismal again, I assure you." 
 
 " But take care not to run to the other extreme, or you ruin 
 all." 
 
388 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 " No, no; I understand. Let us go down I hear the piano, 
 and Fanny's voice ; " and we descended together to the draw- 
 ing-room. 
 
 Two of the Miss Fitzherberts, Mr Headley, and Mr Merri- 
 vale, were singing a glee, " Hail, rising morn." The window 
 happened to be open, and, attracted by the melody, a number 
 of people had collected before the house. Among them I saw 
 Captain Tregenza, who, with his fine profile turned towards 
 us, was standing apparently spell-bound, and gazing upon 
 vacancy. He was attired in a most becoming undress naval 
 uniform, and a blue cap decorated with a gold band, which har- 
 monised very well with his rich curly hair and dark beard. I 
 thought I had never seen a more graceful and manly figure. 
 His sudden apparition reminded me of our appointment to meet 
 at sunset in the Battery Gardens. 
 
 The glee concluded, Mr Molson expressed himself particu- 
 larly delighted with it. He inquired the name of the piece and 
 the composer, and criticised it with so sprightly an air, that 
 Miss Westbrook, whose chair was near mine, whispered me 
 that Mr Leonard was in spirits to-night. He insisted, too, upon 
 handing Miss Fitzherbert back to her seat; and, when anything 
 droll was said by Mr Merrivale, or the wicked Fanny, he burst 
 into such an ecstacy of merriment, that Nabob felt himself 
 called upon to catch it up in an adjoining room, and make the 
 walls echo again. Then poor Mr Molson would grow suddenly 
 grave, and bite his lip with vexation. He made another effort, 
 however, to be cheerful, and, to the astonishment of the whole 
 company, volunteered a song. It was a very sentimental one, 
 and suggestive of the deepest melancholy; but the first verse 
 had no sooner come to a close, than Nabob, in the gravest 
 possible voice, added, "With a tol de rol lol, tol de rol lol;" 
 and then, going through the whole of his vocal achievements, 
 one after the other, ended with the thanksgiving that Mr Mer- 
 rivale usually repeated after meals. The effect was ludicrous 
 in the extreme, and Mr Molson bounced suddenly from the 
 room in a perfect frenzy of wrath and indignation. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 389 
 
 HEAP THE SEVENTY-SECOND. 
 
 I was walking slowly down in the direction of the Battery, 
 when I encountered Doctor Lyon. He was just turning a 
 corner, but caught sight of me, checked himself, wheeled about, 
 and extended, not one finger, but his whole hand, which I 
 (being in a rather amiable mood) shook very cordially. " This 
 way," said he, pulling me by the arm. "I am just married. 
 Come with me ; I will introduce you to the bride." 
 
 I had a few minutes to spare, and followed Doctor Lyon, 
 more because I wished to see what sort of a lady his wife was, 
 than with any wish to improve the acquaintance. He stopped 
 at a handsome house, took a key from his waistcoat pocket, 
 opened the door, and, ushering me up-stairs to the drawing- 
 room, said he would return in five seconds. A pretty little 
 girl, with blue eyes and flaxen hair, sat upon the sofa. Now 
 I have always entertained a strong predilection for little maids, 
 who are, as it were, fresh from the hand of Providence, and 
 yet untainted by the world; and, seating myself by the young 
 lady with the blue eyes, I drew her, with the air of an elder 
 brother, towards me, and began to toy with the glossy curls 
 that adorned her temples. 
 
 "And what is your name?" said I, soothingly. " Mary 
 or Alice or Agnes or Caroline which?" 
 
 " Isabella Isabella Lyon." 
 
 " Lyon ? Oh, I see: your papa was a widower. You have 
 come home for the holidays, I suppose ? " 
 
 " No," said she, smiling ; " I have left school." 
 
 At this moment Doctor Lyon entered, but he had no sooner 
 put his head in at the door than he stopped, stared, passed his 
 hand twice backwards and forwards over his hair, and cried, 
 " Hallo ! sir ! sir ! sir ! put her down directly. That is a cool 
 proceeding, upon my word upon my word!" 
 
 " What is the matter?" cried I, equally bewildered. 
 
 " The matter? What do you mean by patting my wife's head 
 in that way before my very face too?" 
 
390 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 "Your wife?" 
 
 " My wife. Did I not tell you that I was a married man ?" 
 
 I was amused in spite of my astonishment, and stammered 
 an apology. Doctor Lyon accepted the apology, laughed too, 
 and, introducing me in form, rang the bell for cake and wine. 
 
 " Don't say another word about it," said he; "I see that it 
 was a mistake. She looks young certainly, and will improve. 
 Do you think I meant to marry some old frump with a wig 
 and false teeth ? I have not lived to the age of fi ve-and-thirty 
 for that." 
 
 Doctor Lyon might safely have said five-and-forty. Most 
 people, however, have a weakness somewhere. His wife, it 
 appears (he had eloped with her), was about fourteen, but she 
 was a Virginian, a fact I had not taken into consideration. 
 They had been wedded only a few weeks. I began to like the 
 doctor, and accepted an invitation to dine with him the next day. 
 ******* 
 
 Captain Tregenza was punctual to his appointment. He 
 produced the embroidered cigar-case again, and I helped 
 myself. 
 
 " Was that the gift of some enamoured fair one?" I asked, 
 as I returned it into his hand. He nodded, and then sighed in 
 a way which proved that thereby hung a tale. 
 
 "I will give you the whole history some day," said he. 
 " What have you been doing with yourself all this hot evening?" 
 
 I made a fitting reply, and propounded a similar query as 
 touching his own movements. 
 
 " Oh, as usual, sauntering up and down Broadway; staring 
 at the fountains; looking at the people." 
 
 "And eavesdropping at windows eh?" 
 
 Ernest did not appear at all surprised; he had evidently 
 great presence of mind. 
 
 " The glee did you great credit, I will not deny," he said. 
 " Pray, who was the pretty girl with the dark eyes and the 
 braided her? I met her twice yesterday in the gardens. Will 
 
 you " He would have proceeded, but a short, powerfully 
 
 built, gruff-looking, seafaring man (apparently the skipper of 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 391 
 
 some merchant vessel) placed himself before us, and, staring 
 fixedly at Ernest, asked, "Have I seen you before?" 
 
 " How can I reply to such a stupid question ? Stand aside 
 I was watching the sunset." 
 
 The man moved a step. " Have you seen me then ?" he in- 
 quired. 
 
 " No; I never beheld anything half so ugly." 
 
 "I am sure we have met somewhere." 
 
 " It would be no miracle; I walk in this place nightly." 
 
 " I do not mean here at sea off' the Mexican coast." 
 
 "It is a mistake; I don't remember encountering a pirate in 
 that quarter." 
 
 The seafaring man gnashed his teeth with rage, shook his 
 head in a strange manner, thrust his hand into his bosom, and 
 passed on. 
 
 " Haveyou any engagement this evening ?" I asked of Ernest. 
 
 " Yes; a friend will sup with me. Why ?" 
 
 " I should like to board yonder roguish-looking schooner, 
 the one I drew your attention to last night. She has certainly 
 been a slaver; observe her shallow'' hull, and the rake of those 
 masts." 
 
 " I shall grow jealous, if you say much more about her. I 
 thought my own little craft something of a clipper but come, 
 you must not be disappointed." And, jumping into a boat, of 
 which there were plenty at hand, together we pulled toward 
 the object of my curiosity. 
 
 "Ton deck there," cried I, availing myself of the approved 
 nautical phraseology, for nothing irritates a sailor more than to 
 talk to him in a long-shore dialect. 
 
 "May I inquire your business, sir?" said a fair-haired, 
 light-complexioned young man, leaning over the vessel's side 
 as we drifted under her quarter. 
 
 " I shall be much obliged by your allowing myself and friend 
 to step on board. Is the captain at hand ? " 
 
 "No; he has gone ashore, and I have no orders to admit 
 strangers here." 
 
 " In that case, we have had our pull for nothing, and will 
 
392 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 return." Ernest was sitting very composedly in the stern- 
 sheets, smoking his cigar. 
 
 "Avast a moment, sir," cried the sailor with the chestnut 
 curls; "I have passed the word down to Mr Sparrs." Then 
 in a minute, "You may come on board;" and up Captain 
 Tregenza and I went accordingly. 
 
 "What is the name of this vessel?" 
 
 " The Dodo." 
 
 "Whither bound?" 
 
 " California." 
 
 " What do you carry ?" 
 
 " Provisions for the gold-diggers." 
 
 " Was she not originally a slaver?" 
 
 "Yes; would you like to see Long Torn?" and tossing a 
 tarpaulin from amidships, I beheld the implement named. The 
 tar with the light locks tapped the brass breech of the gun 
 affectionately. " Will you go below?" said he. 
 
 " Yes, if you please," returned P>nest; and, descending the 
 companion, we found ourselves in the cabin. It was small but 
 commodious, and tastefully decorated. A surly-looking man, 
 with immense black whiskers, which met beneath his chin, sat 
 at the table writing. 
 
 "Do you want me?" he inquired, without raising his head, 
 and in a most repulsive tone of voice. 
 
 I said (quite as gruffly), " No, we don't." 
 
 " What are you doing here, then?" 
 
 "Looking about us; nothing more." 
 
 " Humph ! who are you ?" 
 
 "First, however, who are you?" 
 
 " The owner of this craft." 
 
 " I don't believe it. You are most probably the mate." 
 
 " At all events you had better be civil." 
 
 " Then somebody else should have set the example." 
 
 " Bah ! we do not stand upon ceremony here. Will you eat ? " 
 
 " Not at your expense." 
 
 "Will you drink?" 
 
 " Not in your company." 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 393 
 
 The last retort rather nettled Mr Sparrs, and, putting his 
 hand suddenly upon a decanter that stood at his elbow, he was 
 about to launch it at my head, when Ernest planted a chair 
 close to the table, seated himself exactly opposite our gruff in- 
 terrogator, and, leaning forward, stared sternly into his face. 
 The mate of the Dodo (for such he in reality was) returned the 
 compliment with interest, and, as the pair sat glaring upon each 
 other thus, like two gamecocks, their foreheads almost met. A 
 more ridiculous scene I have seldom witnessed. Mr Sparrs 
 was the first to break the charm, and proceed with his writing. 
 Captain Tregenza then rose from the chair, and telegraphed to 
 me that it was growing late, and time for us to go ashore. 
 
 " Well, what do you think of the schooner?" said he, as we 
 leaped to land. Then, on my expressing my admiration of 
 everything I had seen, he shook his head gravely, and remarked 
 that he hoped all was right, but he had his suspicions respect- 
 ing her honesty. " I do not altogether like the look of that 
 fellow who sat below quilldriving so industriously," said 
 Ernest, "and if there is not something wrong, I am much 
 mistaken." 
 
 HEAP THE SEVENTY-THIRD. 
 
 It was the cool of the evening. I had not stirred from the 
 house the whole day, the thermometer having stood at a hun- 
 dred and one in the shade. I was now about to take a plea- 
 sant canter into the country with Miss Fanny Fitzlierbert. 
 The horses were waiting at the door. Mr Molson entered my 
 room rather abruptly, and flung himself upon the sofa. 
 
 " You are going to ride out with Fanny?" said he, in a dismal 
 manner. 
 
 " I thought of doing so." 
 
 " And have you changed your mind?" 
 
 "Yes; you may go instead. I will excuse myself to Miss 
 Fitzherbert. By the by, are you a good horseman?" 
 
394 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 " Very; but are you in earnest, and shall I get ready?" 
 
 " At once." 
 
 Mr Molson had been looking so wobegone for the past week, 
 that, little suspecting in what my kindness was to result, I was 
 glad to find that I could administer a cordial to his melancholy. 
 I felt pleased to observe, too, that my proposal gave Miss Fitz- 
 herbert pleasure. Her cheeks wore a rosier tint, and her eye 
 sparkled with a superior animation. Mr Molson came bounding 
 down the stair six steps at a time, and nearly pitched upon his 
 nose as he skipped out at the front-door into the street. Fanny 
 was mounted in a moment. 
 
 " He is going to get up the wrong side," said Mr Headley, 
 who, together with Mr Merrivale, was looking out of the win- 
 dow. 
 
 The face of Mr Molson was visible for a moment over the 
 back of the horse, and then it as suddenly disappeared. Fanny, 
 thinking that her escort was in the saddle, touched her palfrey 
 gaily with the whip, and away she went. The groom rectified 
 Mr Molson's error, and then away he went also, with his un- 
 strapped trousers exhibiting a large development of stocking, 
 and his knees upon a level with the horse's ears. 
 
 I had a pleasant book, and took it with me to my favourite 
 haunt, a shady bovver at the bottom of Miss Westbrook's gar- 
 den, where I remained reading until the hour grew late. I 
 then lighted one of the delicious cigars that Captain Tre- 
 genza had given me, and fell into another of those agreeable 
 reveries of which my nature is so susceptible. One by one the 
 stars came out, and the moon majestically rising " tipped with 
 silver all the fruit-tree tops." I am not merely making a quo- 
 tation here ; I am relating facts, for the bower overlooked a 
 narrow slip of green orchard, which contained many pictu- 
 resque old trees, whose motionless leaves looked white in the 
 ray. I was enjoying the quiet of the hour and the picturesque- 
 ness of the scene, when suddenly a figure flitted across the 
 avenue, mounted the crumbling old wall to the right, and dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 My curiosity and love of the marvellous were roused ; and, 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 395 
 
 stepping lightly to the turf below, I walked through the gloom 
 to the spot where the mysterious object had melted from my 
 view. I laid my cigar upon the wall, and looked over, but 
 saw nothing. Then I heard light advancing steps, and with- 
 drew quickly into the shade. The figure (it was that of a 
 man) leaped nimbly back into the orchard, but stopped, pried 
 cautiously about, and seemed to hesitate ; then seizing my un- 
 extinguished cigar, threw it down, stamped upon it, and with- 
 drew (precisely as I had already done) into the gloom of an 
 apple- tree. 
 
 " This gay Lothario," said I to myself, " loves some pretty 
 girl on the other side of that wall, but the parents of the lady 
 are averse to the match, and have forbidden him the house. 
 He, nothing daunted, visits her occasionally by moonlight; but 
 this evening the green-eyed monster has possession of him. 
 How odd that a little harmless pun 1 ' of tobacco smoke should 
 have the power to put a man in such a rage! He suspects 
 that he has a rival in the garden, and is now waiting, like a 
 grave old spider in a nook, to pounce upon him as he returns; 
 but he would wait a long time; so I had better put an end to 
 the farce ;" and I walked from under the tree which concealed 
 me. The gentleman walked out as promptly, and we eyed 
 each other for upwards of a minute. He appeared very jealous 
 and angry at first, but he cooled down last. His name I knew 
 to be Lascelles, and he lived at the next door upon the left. 
 
 " What are you doing in this orchard?" said he. 
 
 "What were you doing on the other side of the wall?" 
 said I. 
 
 " You were playing the spy." 
 
 " While somebody else played the fool." 
 
 "Come, come; you will not betray a secret; promise me 
 that?" 
 
 " I will not promise anything till you have answered my 
 question." 
 
 " Then walk this way, and we will talk it over." 
 
 " No ; follow me into yonder bower, which is quite private." 
 
 " Agreed ; I will be there as soon as you ; " and placing his 
 
396 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 hand on the wall to the left not the one to the right, over 
 which he had gone to meet the lady he leaped it, and was gone. 
 
 " I shall see no more of him," thought I ; but I was wrong. 
 I had scarcely sat down ere Lascelles made his entre, with a 
 box of cigars under one arm, and two bottles of wine under 
 the other. He then produced a couple of glasses from his 
 pocket, drew a knotty, crabbed-looking old wooden bench to 
 the stone table, and said, "Now we shall be snug." There 
 was certainly a dash of joviality in these proceedings. 
 
 " I have forgotten the corkscrew," cried Lascelles. 
 
 "Never mind ; knock off the neck ;" and he suited the ac- 
 tion to the word. 
 
 The jasmine arbour became strongly redolent of savoury old 
 port ; cigars were lighted ; glasses filled ; and my new ac- 
 quaintance, resting his feet luxuriously upon a gnarled branch, 
 entered into the promised explanations : 
 
 " It frequently happens to people residing in a town, that 
 they will spend half their lives in it without knowing their 
 next-door neighbour. This would have been the case, perhaps, 
 with* you and myself, if the adventure of to-night had not 
 brought us into collision. I have often seen you pacing the 
 old orchard yonder, and wondered who you were ; and once 
 or twice almost harboured a presentiment that you had a tender 
 penchant for the lady to whom I was about to pay one of my 
 customary evening visits a few minutes ago. Guess my an- 
 noyance, therefore, when I found your cigar on the wall. My 
 suspicions seemed confirmed; my jealousy was roused, and I 
 was about to give vent to my indignation and anger, but the 
 moment I had caught sight of your features, which (excuse my 
 plainness of speech) are not the most prepossessing I have ever 
 seen, I felt re-assured I saw I had nothing to fear. But to 
 my explanation. 
 
 " My family, which is one of the oldest and most respected 
 in the city, have for many generations dwelt in the house here 
 to the left, and I am the last of of the Mohicans. Not a re- 
 lative have I in the world. I was going to add, not a friend ; 
 but I should have been overstepping the bounds of truth there, 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 397 
 
 for I have several friends, and shall most probably retain them 
 as long as a bottle of that old port (the bin is getting low) 
 remains in my cellar. Not any longer ; and in fact there is 
 nothing like cutting one's prosy, long-standing acquaintance 
 now and then changing the suit of life's cards, as it were, 
 and few of mine have turned up trumps. However, to the 
 story. Of my father I have little recollection he died when 
 I was a mere boy ; but of my grandfather I can tell you a 
 good deal. He was a colonel in the army, and served under 
 General Washington,- whose life he once saved. The wars 
 over, he sheathed his sword, and settled down here, hoping to 
 spend the evening of his days in tranquillity. He had brought 
 up a large family, but, like the bottles of choice old port I be- 
 fore alluded to, they have dropped away one by one, and I 
 alone am left. The colonel who has not long been dead, for 
 he lived to a great age was a choleric old gentleman, and 
 when once he had taken a thing into his head, nothing would 
 turn him. While he was yet a lieutenant, Washington one 
 day sent him to reduce a fort which had occasioned the Ame- 
 rican army some annoyance. He was repulsed six times ; his 
 troops fought well ; but the greater part were shot down some 
 were bayoneted, others pitched neck and crop from their scal- 
 ing ladders, a few were blown to pieces, and many more toma- 
 hawked by a party of Indians, who sallied out upon them, and 
 returned laden with scalps. That very sally, however, won 
 my grandfather the victory, for, as they ran out, he, with his 
 few surviving comrades, ran in, laid about him furiously, left 
 his sword in the body of the commandant, pistolled a captain, 
 spitted a serjeant, thumped a corporal, and soundly pommelled 
 several privates ; then turned the guns upon them, hauled 
 down the enemy's flag, and hoisted his own. I merely mention 
 this little occurrence to prove to you that my grandfather was 
 not a man to be trifled with. As he grew older, too, he grew 
 fiercer, and more obstinate and determined to carry his point. 
 One afternoon as his coachman was driving him out, the latter 
 had occasion to go through a very narrow street, where there 
 was not room for two carriages to pass each other. It happened 
 
398 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 to be a gay day in the city, and a grand concourse of citizens, 
 headed by a band of musicians and a party of horsemen carry- 
 ing regalia and banners, were proceeding up the street as my 
 grandfather was jogging down it. * Make way, make way 
 there in front!' cried the advanced guard of the mob. 'Ride 
 them down, if they don't move.' This note of defiance put 
 the old gentleman instantly on his mettle. He had intended 
 to wheel about when he saw that the carriage was an ob- 
 stacle to their progress, but, like fat John Falstaff, he would 
 do nothing on compulsion, and he refused to budge an inch. 
 There was a great uproar, as you will suppose, and they threat- 
 ened to turn the horses' heads. * Do, if you dare,' said my 
 grandfather, and he dragged an old horse-pistol (he always 
 carried one with him, in case of accidents) from under the 
 carriage cushion, and cocked it in their faces. Louder and 
 louder grew the din, but there sat my grandfather in the 
 carriage, and the coachman on the dickey. The coachman 
 was a grim old Serjeant of the colonel's, and had smelt powder. 
 'Are you going to move ? ' roared the party of horsemen 'No!' 
 bellowed my grandfather in return; '1 told you that before;' 
 and he looked to his priming and flint. ' You will not go 
 back ? ' ' I will not,' * Then you shall not advance.' * Very 
 good,' said my grandfather, ' I am in no hurry;' and drawing 
 a newspaper from under another cushion, he began to read. 
 
 " In about ten minutes, as he was turning the sheet and com- 
 mencing the perusal of a fresh column, the mob held a council 
 of war, the musicians struck up ' Yankee doodle,' and the pro- 
 cession faced about. Then the colonel, shutting up the news- 
 paper, deliberately gave the Serjeant the word to advance. 
 Now it so happened that my grandfather's two horses were par- 
 ticularly vicious ones, and growing restive, I suppose, at the bad 
 music, they bit one or two of the flag-carriers, nud caught up 
 between them the chief trumpeter by the waistband of his 
 small-clothes; whereupon his brother musicians called upon 
 those in front to move quicker, and pressed so upon their 
 heels, that the party of cavalry were thrown into confusion, a 
 complete panic seized the crowd, and presently my grandfather 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 399 
 
 drove them all, like a conquered enemy leaving a sacked city, 
 helter-skelter before him. But this is a digression ; I am not 
 getting on with my tale. 
 
 " My grandfather, I told you, was getting old, and as I 
 was the last of the line, the Uncas of his race, he wished me 
 to marry and settle ; a matter which had as yet not much oc- 
 cupied my thoughts. I promised him, however, that I would 
 take it into my consideration. 'Pooh! nonsense about con- 
 sideration/ cried he ; ' do it at once. Never procrastinate. 
 Do as I did.' And by the by, I must let you know how that 
 was, said Lascelles. 
 
 " My grandmother was a fine woman, a sensible woman, a 
 strong-minded woman, and when my grandfather proposed to 
 her she rejected him. He knew that (so he used to say) to be 
 all stuff', and prepared for his wedding just as though every- 
 thing had been satisfactorily arranged between himself and 
 her. He fixed the day, furnished his house, invited his 
 friends, engaged the parson, and the rumour of his projected 
 marriage spread abroad. The lady heard of it, and was per- 
 haps a little piqued to find (as she Supposed) that another had 
 so soon supplanted her in the colonel's affections. When she 
 saw him again, she congratulated him upon his prospects, and 
 inquired upon whom his choice had fallen. 
 
 " ' Eh ? ' said my grandfather and he was really a handsome 
 soldier-like man the lady ? Why, I am going to marry you, 
 to be sure.' 
 
 " * I am sure you are not,' said she. 
 
 " ' I will marry nobody else, madam ; you may depend upon 
 that,' said my grandfather. * This very day week we shall be 
 man and wife.' 
 
 " The next evening she again met the colonel at a party. 
 Washington himself happened to be present. ' Introduce me 
 to your intended wife, Lascelles,' said the general ; and my 
 grandfather led him to the lady in question. She wondered 
 at his impudence, and presently asked him how he dare circu- 
 late a report of the kind. 
 
 " Truth will out, madam,' said the veteran. 
 
400 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 " ' You think to carry me by storm,' replied the colonel's in- 
 tended, * but you will not do it, sir.' 
 
 " ' I shall carry you in some way or other, madam, I make 
 small doubt,' said the colonel, smoothing his moustache ; and, 
 to the lady's great astonishment, on the very morning that my 
 grandfather had fixed for the wedding, a carriage drew up at 
 her door, the colonel alighted, walked in, offered her his arm, 
 walked out again, ordered the coachman (no other than the 
 trusty Serjeant) to drive to the church, made her his wife, and 
 lived with her very comfortably for upwards of forty years 
 afterwards. In fact, my grandfather never appeared to think 
 anything impossible. If he had coveted a slice from the moon, 
 or the tail of a young comet, I verily believe he would have 
 found some means of accomplishing its capture. 
 
 " I shall never get on with my story. I told you that my 
 grandfather wished me to marry. I begged him to make 
 choice of a wife for me. 
 
 " ' What do you think of Kate Flodden ? ' said he ; ' the old 
 barrister's niece at the next door but one.' 
 
 " * I should like her very well.' 
 
 My grandfather seized his hat at once, and was about to 
 leave the house. I inquired whither he was going. 
 
 " ' To get her for you,' he replied. 
 
 " * Stay ; the affair grows serious. The uncle is a proud old 
 man, and ' 
 
 " * Pooh ! ' cried the colonel ; * when you set about a thing, 
 go to it with a will. To a man of resolution there is nothing 
 impossible. If you won't let me go, go yourself.' 
 
 " * Well, perhaps you had better undertake the matter I 
 could not speak in my own praise.' 
 
 " And he went, but returned quickly, with his eye flashing, 
 and his whiskers standing on end. 
 
 " ' Is it all right ? ' I asked. 
 
 " ' Quite quite satisfactory, Laurence,' was the response ; 
 ' the garrison refuses to surrender, and must be reduced in the 
 regular way. Kate must be yours, and if one drop of the true 
 Lascelles blood runs in your veins .' 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 401 
 
 tc< I will have her that's flat,' cried I; and I began to form 
 my plans of attack. I had already danced with Kate on one 
 or two occasions, and we had often promenaded the Battery 
 Gardens together. I was on speaking terms, too, with her old 
 curmudgeon of an uncle, who shuns the society of all his neigh- 
 bours. But at this stage of the siege my poor old grandfather 
 died, and his death, and the grief it occasioned me, drove all 
 lighter matters from my thoughts. Grief, after all, however, 
 is merely the summer-cloud upon youth's sky, and my spirits 
 soon recovered their wonted gaiety. The old colonel's parting 
 words to me, too, were, ' Persevere, my dear Laurence make 
 Kate Flodden your own.' After a decent interval, therefore, 
 I began to consider in what way I should best advance my in- 
 terests with Kate. * I have no chance of softening the heart 
 of the uncle,' said I, 'so I must bring all my artillery to bear upon 
 that of the niece. I can thrum a little on the guitar, and will 
 serenade her by moonlight.' I did so. I learned the room 
 in which she slept, and placed myself under the window. I 
 played a touching air, and sang a few dismal words which I 
 had composed expressly for the occasion. * She is affected I 
 hear somebody at the casement above. Again she is opening 
 the window the dear creature!' The window did open, and 
 the next moment a flood of cold water deluged my person from 
 head to foot. I just caught a sight of the tassel of the old 
 gentleman's nightcap, as he drew in his head and slammed 
 down the sash. Conceive my mortification and humbled pride. 
 I have never thrummed a note since; but this rebuff, though 
 it damped my enthusiasm a little, did not for one instant cause 
 me to waver in my resolution. 
 
 " One beautiful evening, about a month afterwards (for I 
 thought it best to let the adventure of the guitar blow over 
 first), I scrambled at dusk over yonder wall, crossed the or- 
 chard, and secreted myself among the shrubbery in the old 
 barrister's garden, in the hope that, if Kate ever walked at 
 that witching hour, I might catch a glimpse of her as she 
 passed. All was silence, and stealing forth, I tripped quickly 
 along the grass-plot till I came to a sort of bower, or grotto, in 
 
 2c 
 
402 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 the middle of which a little fountain was playing, and sprink- 
 ling its freshness over the group of pink shells that surrounded 
 it. 'This is evidently the retreat of Kate Flodden,' said I; 
 *yes ah, what is that? a hook!' I stole out with the vo- 
 lume into the moonlight, and found it to be an illustrated edi- 
 tion of ' Lalla Rookh.' It was lying open, and she had been 
 reading the ' Fire- worshippers.' I scaled the wall again, re- 
 crossed the orchard, scampered into my own garden, plucked 
 a handful of the choicest flowers, arid, forming them into a 
 little bouquet, returned to place it on the friendly page. That 
 will do, I will come again to-morrow night; and, kissing the 
 flowers, like a great amorous booby, as you will no doubt think 
 me, away I went. 
 
 " The next evening I repeated the visit. The flowers had 
 disappeared, and the book lay open at the 'Light of the 
 Harem.' I placed another bouquet upon it, and returned home- 
 ward with a light heart, I did the same the next night, and 
 the next in fact, for upwards of a week and on each occa- 
 sion the flowers had been appropriated, and the book lay open 
 at a fresh page. At length my gardener (and he was no other 
 than my grandfather's trusty old serjeant, of whom you have 
 heard me speak) told me that he was sure somebody was in 
 the habit of stealing the flowers, for he saw the print of a 
 man's foot every morning upon the beds, and he talked of 
 keeping watch with a loaded musket; so I was obliged to let 
 the serjeant into the secret of my amour. 
 
 " On the last occasion of my having placed the bouquet upon 
 the opened book, and as I was in the act of turning to leave 
 the grotto, Kate entered it. She was much startled, of course, 
 but I could not help fancying from her manner that she was 
 in some measure prepared for a meeting of the kind. Kate 
 was about to fly from the spot, but I interposed, begged that 
 she would hear me, and in a few hurried words unburdened 
 myself of the tale of my long attachment, &c. I assured Kate 
 I had the most delicate notion of what was due to one of her 
 sex, and that nothing but the hopelessness of my case had in- 
 duced me to intrude thus upon her privacy. I declared, more- 
 
WIIITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 403 
 
 over, that I pined dreadfully for her in secret, and that my 
 health was suffering severely in consequence; but I had such 
 a robust round face all the while, that I fear she would hardly 
 be able to credit that assertion. I could see, however, that she 
 was softened. 
 
 " ' Only assure me of one thing, Mr Lascelles,' said Kate, 
 laughing, 'and I will promise to pardon these repeated intru- 
 sions; tell me you had nothing whatever to do with that ab- 
 surd serenade scene, or I shall never be able to think of you 
 with any degree of gravity. Say that you have no knowledge 
 of the circumstance.' 
 
 " * Serenade !' echoed I. * A serenade what serenade?' 
 
 " ' I allude to the midnight visit of some romantic cavalier, 
 who was so foolish as to place himself under a wrong window, 
 and over whom my indignant uncle (for unfortunately he has 
 no ear for music) precipitated the jug of cold water that had 
 been intended for his morning ablutions.' 
 
 " ' Is*it possible, Miss Flodden/ was my artless response, 
 ' that you can suppose ? do you believe for one moment ' 
 
 " ' You, then, were not the proprietor of the guitar and plain- 
 tive ditty?' 
 
 " * Hear me swear ' exclaimed I, passionately, 
 
 '"No, no, no; let us have no swearing, if you please,' re- 
 turned Kate; 'that is enough. I am satisfied. Now, pray go, 
 or my uncle and the servants will overhear you. There 
 there.' 
 
 " I seized her hand, kissed it, and leaped the wall. 
 
 " I need scarcely tell you that I now became pretty regular 
 in my attendance. Kate, in spite of her coquettish way, and 
 strong sense of the ridiculous, really loved me, and I was 
 happy; but one evening, about a fortnight since, I had nearly 
 the ill luck to ruin all. I went, as usual, to chat in the grotto 
 with Kate. I entered it boldly, and sat down. 
 
 '"Is that you, Kate?' asked Mr Flodden, who was reclin- 
 ing in the gloom, enjoying the coolness of the fountain, and a 
 temporary respite from the combined attacks of a myriad mos- 
 quitoes. 
 
404 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 " I was struck dumb. Mr Flodden was rather infirm, and 
 nearly blind; he had not recognised me, but if I opened my 
 lips, the truth would out. 
 
 "'Is that you, Kate?' asked the old barrister again; and, 
 leaning forward, he put his hand upon my arm. He jumped 
 almost from his seat, and cried, * Speak ! who are you, sir ? 
 and what is your business here?' 
 
 " At this moment Kate entered. 
 
 " 'Laurence Lascelles,' said I; for, now that the discovery 
 had been made, I felt calm, and ready to dare the worst that 
 could befall me. ' You were aware that I loved your niece, 
 but denied me your house, and compelled me to seek an inter- 
 view with Miss Flodden here. My intentions are, and ever 
 have been, strictly honourable, and I candidly tell you, that, if 
 I am denied the privilege of paying my addresses in one way, 
 I shall seek an opportunity of doing so in another. You were 
 acquainted with the peculiarities of my grandfather, and will 
 find that I inherit a tolerable share of his firmness.' 
 
 " ' His obstinacy, sir/ cried Mr Flodden, thumping the stone 
 table angrily with clenched fist. 
 
 " ' Call it what you please/ said I. 
 
 '"Kate, desire this young man to quit your presence and 
 my garden for ever/ said Mr Flodden, with a trembling 
 voice. 
 
 " Kate spoke not a word. 
 
 " ' Kate, do you hesitate?' 
 
 " Still not a word ; though a sound something between a sob 
 and a sigh was plainly audible. 
 
 " ' Come hither, sir/ said the old barrister, in an altered 
 tone, and taking my hand with that of his niece, he locked 
 them together. 
 
 " * Kate is a dutiful child, and cannot have set her regard 
 upon an unworthy person. In future, sir, make your entrance 
 by the front-door.' " 
 
 "And here," said Lascelles, "my story, which has been a 
 much longer one than I intended, ends." 
 
 " One thing puzzles me yet," said I. " As Mr Flodden has 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 405 
 
 given your suit his countenance, why clamber stealthily over 
 the garden wall to-night?" 
 
 " Oh, that query is soon solved. A front-door is a tame thing 
 in a love affair. There is nothing like a garden wall, and 
 jasmine- wreathed windows ; besides, it is a short cut, and 
 grown sacred by custom. Are you satisfied?" asked Las- 
 celles. 
 
 " Oh perfectly," said I, rising to leave the arbour. 
 
 HEAP THE SEVENTY-FOURTH. 
 
 I had just parted with Lascelles, and was about to return to 
 the house, when Mr Headley met me in the garden, and begged 
 that I would follow him immediately, for that poor Molson had 
 been brought home upon somebody's shutter. 
 
 " He attempted to drown himself," said Mr Headley, " and 
 I fear has partially succeeded. Miss Fitzherbert requests you 
 will not lose a moment, as she considers herself in some mea- 
 sure the cause of the catastrophe." 
 
 I found Mr Molson in his chamber. They were holding 
 him heels uppermost, under the supposition that the water he 
 had swallowed would under this treatment be induced to eject 
 itself from his stomach. I was somewhat ridiculed, therefore, 
 when I stated that he had not swallowed any water at all, and 
 laying him on the bed with his head a little raised, resorted to 
 the usual mode of resuscitating drowned persons. My labours 
 were soon crowned with success, and Mr Molson opened his 
 eyes, but immediately shut them again. I am constrained to 
 acknowledge that he was not quite so poorly as he pretended 
 to be. He recovered his senses rather unexpectedly. I inti- 
 mated my suspicions to Mr Merrivale. 
 
 "Where am I?" asked Mr Molson. 
 
 "Oh, come, come, let us have none of this nonsense," said Mr 
 Merrivale ; " you know very well where you are. Do not talk 
 
406 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 in this way, or I shall believe you to be a greater goose than I 
 was disposed to think you." 
 
 "Pray how did the accident happen?" I inquired of Mr 
 Headley, who was endeavouring to disentagle Leonard's dis- 
 hevelled locks, and reduce them to some order with a brush 
 and comb. 
 
 "Accident! it was no accident at all," chimed in Mr Mer- 
 rivale. " He made some absurd proposal to our friend Fanny 
 as they rode out together on horseback, and, not meeting with 
 the reception he expected, what does rny gentleman do but 
 dismount very gravely, and walk into the Hudson. In justice 
 to his own prudence, I should tell you he did not believe the 
 depth to exceed three feet; but, finding it more than that, he 
 squalled lustily for help, and had the luck, just as he was about to 
 be drowned in good earnest, to be rescued by one of the North 
 Carolina's crew, who hooked him up by the small clothes, and 
 had the humanity to convey him up hither. If I have wronged 
 you by any misstatement, Molson, pray speak," said Mr Merri- 
 vale. 
 
 Here there was a knock at the door, and a tender inquiry 
 after Mr Leonard's health. 
 
 " There is not the least occasion for alarm, ladies, I assure 
 you," replied Mr Merrivale ; "he is in a very fair way of re- 
 covery. Mr Molson improves rapidly, and will be able to 
 thank you for your kindness in person to-morrow." 
 
 I went in again the last thing before I retired for the night, 
 to see Mr Molson. He looked pale, and motioned me to a seat 
 by the bedside. 
 
 " Remember that my watch and seals are for my mother," 
 he said, sepulchrally ; "my writing-desk and books I give to 
 you." 
 
 " What, are you determined to die, then, after all?" 
 
 " Will you oblige me by opening that drawer, and handing 
 ine the square box it contains?" 
 
 I obeyed. Mr Molson opened the box, and took from it 
 a pair of handsome rifle pistols. I supposed he was about to 
 bequeath them to me also, but, oh dear no. He loaded one of 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 407 
 
 them, with a frightful calmness of manner, capped it, cocked 
 it, and begged that, if I entertained the slightest regard for 
 him, I would not stay his hand. I promised on my word of 
 honour that I would not. He gave me a snappish look, by 
 \vay of thanks, and put his left hand upon his forehead. 
 
 "A pistol-ball will soon reach the brain, will it not?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " It depends upon circumstances not always." 
 
 "Good- by!" 
 
 "Oh, goud-by!" 
 
 There was a step upon the stair. Mr Molson clapped the 
 pistol into the case, tucked the case under the bed-clothes, 
 drew the bed-clothes up to his chin, and left nothing but his 
 nose visible. I wished him a good night's rest, and left the 
 room. 
 
 The next morning found Mr Molson not only alive, but per- 
 fectly well, and at the breakfast- table. There was a certain 
 roguish twinkle in the eyes of ev.-ry one present; but, with a 
 delicacy and kindness that did them credit, not the slightest 
 allusion was made to the occurrence' of the night before, and it 
 would have provoked no comment or attention whatever, had 
 not Mr Molsori's old and inveterate enemy, the parrot, crammed 
 his head suddenly through the bars of the cage, and, survey- 
 ing the repentant suicide with a droll leer that was quite ir- 
 resistible, cried, "Poor Molson!" and then burst into another 
 of those loud and insulting fits of laughter, which were always 
 so irritating to the individual against whom they were di- 
 rected. Nor did Nabob's merriment appear to be at all feigned, 
 for he several times repeated the words "Poor Molson!" and 
 continued to laugh, until (like some elderly gentleman troubled 
 with short breath) he was obliged to stoop with the violence of 
 it, and at last ended in a species of choke. Miss Wesi-brook, 
 therefore, very considerately ordered a servant to remove Na- 
 bob to an adjoining parlour ; and Mr Molson, who had all the 
 time kept his eyes fixed heroically upon the ceiling, to our great 
 relief shortly afterwards quitted the room also. 
 
408 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 One morning I received a letter from Captain Tregenza. 
 It ran as follows : 
 
 " BROOKLYN, Tuesday Evening. 
 Date doubtful. 
 
 " Mon cher Abel, My numerous engagements (and none of 
 them of a tender nature, believe me) have prevented my seeing 
 you for the last few days, or even taking my customary stroll 
 round the Battery Gardens. Those accursed mosquitoes, too, 
 bite so plaguily toward sunset, that one has scarcely any com- 
 fort in venturing abroad. It would be some consolation to me 
 to see you bitten half as badly as I have been on one or two 
 occasions. 
 
 " To talk soberly : I have a proposal to make you. I think 
 I stated the other day (at all events I meant to do so), that my 
 little vessel (why have you not accompanied me on board here 
 ere this?) will sail very shortly. You know her destination. 
 What say you to make the trip with me? A cruise to sea 
 would do you good. I want a companion, and, as you have 
 seen a little of the world, and learned to laugh at it, and have 
 now and then a pleasant knack at tagging couplets together, I 
 think you would snit me charming well. To the point, then : 
 I will take you out, and bring you back again. Time is of no 
 particular value to you, and variety, as somebody says, is pleas- 
 ing. I can promise you pure air, constant change of scene, 
 and (though that, you will say, is a gross inducement) the best 
 of good cheer. If you should be seized with one of your 
 studious fits, too, there are books at any rate there shall be, 
 as I was about to order a dozen or two volumes for my cabin 
 shelves. Go thou into the best store Broadway boasts, and 
 make a selection for, very sincerely thine, 
 
 "Abel Log, Esquire. ERNEST TREGENZA. 
 
 "P.S. I forgot to tell you that we shall be absent about 
 twelve months not longer unless we touch at some of those 
 romantic islands of which we spoke. The gentlemen are truly 
 barbarous, but the ladies are particularly friendly and agree- 
 able. 
 
 " P.P.S. My mate is a most refined and polished personage 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 409 
 
 a perfect Lord Chesterfield : but we can either have his 
 company or not, just as you may wish and arrange." 
 
 I read Tregenza's friendly letter several times. What he 
 had stated was very true. I was fond of change, and time, 
 just at present, was of no particular value to me. Ernest 
 was a pleasant fellow, and I had a strong inclination to accept 
 his proposal. But then, on the other hand, I was anxious to 
 see the Mammoth Cave of Kentucky, and to visit Boston, 
 more particularly as I had been promised an introduction to 
 that talented lady, Miss Sedgwick ; and I had a friend to seek 
 out in Philadelphia, and I had a number of other places to 
 visit and things to do which could not be neglected or forgotten. 
 "The captain's offer is a very handsome and seductive one," 
 pondered I, " but I cannot accept it I must not do so ; and I 
 had better write him to that effect at once." 
 
 Tregenza replied again in person. He used every argument 
 that he thought likely to make me waver in my resolution, 
 and, finding me firm, went away in a pet. He left his walk- 
 ing-cane behind him, and, as I was admiring it, the lower part 
 slid off, and discovered a beautiful little rapier. The point 
 for two inches and upwards had a dull stain upon it. Mr 
 Headley pronounced it to be blood ; and Mr Merrivale scrap- 
 ing off a portion of the dust, and applying it to his nostril, 
 nodded his head. Ernest had evidently pinked somebody with 
 it very lately. 
 
 HEAP THE SEVENTY-FIFTH. 
 
 It was the noon of a sultry day in August. One could not 
 walk it was too hot for that ; one could not ride it would 
 have come under the head of cruelty to animals; one could not 
 read a book had to be held, and that was a fatigue; one 
 could not sleep the mosquitoes would not let you. Fans wjere 
 flapping in all directions; and in the front of the Astor House, 
 down Broadway, five-and-twenty travellers were sitting in the 
 
410 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 shade, with their weary legs elevated to a level with their 
 chins, and the rims of their straw hats resting on their noses. 
 Few people were to be seen in the streets, for they were afraid 
 of receiving a sun-stroke. 
 
 I was sitting in the arbour at the bottom of Miss West- 
 brook's garden, and talking to Lascelles. I heard the large 
 bell up at the house ring violently, and ran to see what was 
 the matter. I found the little elderly maiden lady, Miss 
 Fanny Fitzherbert and her sisters, Mr Merrivale, Mr Headley, 
 and Mr Molson, standing round the parrot's cage. I inquired 
 if anything had happened to Nabob. 
 
 "He is dying," said Miss Westbrook, wringing her hands; 
 " I am sure he is dying. He has been poisoned." The bird 
 certainly looked ill. He was poising himself upon one leg on 
 the bottom of the cage, and turning up his eyes frightfully. 
 " Oh, I am convinced that somebody has poisoned Nabob ; I 
 will never believe to the contrary ! " cried Miss Westbrook, in 
 a tremulous voice. 
 
 I glanced towards Mr Molson. He was very pale, and he 
 gave a gulp like a person in the last stage of suffocation. 
 
 " He he will get better, I have no doubt," stammered Mr 
 Molson; "perhaps the heat affects him. Poor Nabob!" 
 
 " Poor Molson ! " replied the bird ; and then he tried to 
 laugh, but couldn't. 
 
 '* Poor Nabob ! " cried Miss Westbrook, with a flood of 
 tears; "you have been poisoned, I know." 
 
 Mr Molson applied a handkerchief to his brow, and sat 
 down in an exhausted manner. A few minutes afterwards 
 Nabob called for Miss Westbrook ; he was going fast. He 
 next (for the green parrot had caught up everything that was 
 said at table) ordered the bell to be rung, probably that all the 
 household might be summoned to witness his peaceful end. 
 In another moment he closed his vermilion-coloured eyes, 
 gave a long shrill whistle, then a short laugh, issued directions 
 to a servant to carry him out, repeated his usual grace, and fell 
 down dead. The murder was eventually traced to the door of 
 Mr Molson, and he received a hint to supply himself with a 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 411 
 
 suite of apartments elsewhere. I have not since had the 
 pleasure of receiving tidings of him. 
 
 ****** * 
 
 As I was returning one night from a saunter in the pictu- 
 resque neighbourhood of the Battery (I had Ernest's rapier- 
 cane under my arm), some very beautiful music fell upon my 
 ear, and I traced it to a retired garden which is much fre- 
 quented by the gentlemen of New York, when they wish to 
 indulge in the luxury of an ice-cream, and enjoy the gratifica- 
 tion of hearing a few of their most select arid popular melodies 
 performed upon a fine band. Music is always an attraction to 
 me. They were just playing Moore's " Last Rose of Summer" 
 as I entered the garden, and seated myself in an arbour, under 
 the shade of some pleasant trees. The romance of the scene 
 was in some measure weakened by the occasional transit of a 
 waiter, with a towel over his arm and glasses upon a tray; but 
 I winked at this, and, ordering some refreshment by way of 
 keeping up appearances, reclined blissfully in a corner, with 
 my eyes half closed. Presently the well-known voice of some 
 person in an adjoining arbour struck upon my ear. It was 
 that of Captain Tregenza. I wondered who his companion 
 was. The voice was familiar tome also, but I failed to recog- 
 nise it. 
 
 " Eighteen will not be sufficient," I heard Ernest say; " we 
 must have six-and-twenty. What are you to do when half 
 your hands get disabled? We had twenty-six before, and 
 we will have twenty-six again. Don't say any more about it; 
 I will have my way." A few words of remonstrance were here 
 offered, but Tregenza cried, " I have spoken, sir! " and there 
 was a heavy clash, as though he had struck his fist upon the 
 table, and upset several glasses. 
 
 A silence of some minutes succeeded, and then the gruff 
 voice observed, " Hans Korck is a whole gang of boarders in 
 himself. Did you ever see him handle a pike ? " 
 
 " He can do his duty, I have no doubt," said Tregenza ; 
 " and so he ought, for I have not spared his schooling ! " 
 Duty, thought I what does this duty consist in, I wonder? 
 
412 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 And, feeling conscious that I was playing the paltry part of an 
 eavesdropper, I coughed in a manner which left it to the op- 
 tion of the speakers whether they continued the conversation or 
 not. Ernest abruptly entered the bower in which I sat, and 
 put his face close to mine, to see if he had compromised him- 
 self in any way by his freedom of speech. I was sitting in the 
 gloom, and at first he did not recognise my features ; but, 
 when he had done so, he drew me by the button from my 
 corner into the next box. Opposite him sat Mr Sparrs, the 
 surly mate of the Dodo. I now saw through the whole thing. 
 Captain Tregenza observed that I had made a discovery, and 
 said in a pleasant way, " Come, come, I know if there is any 
 secret in the matter it will rest safe with you." I must confess 
 that I felt a little disappointed. Ernest was a fine-looking 
 young man, and I had supposed, also, a high-spirited and an 
 honourable one; but now, how was he fallen in my estimation! 
 He had degenerated into a mere ruffian a common cut-throat, 
 without one spark of gentlemanly feeling or right principle. 
 
 " You are a very pretty pair," said I, banteringly, and gaz- 
 ing first on him, and then upon the sulky Mr Sparrs. " That 
 rakish craft yonder is in the merchant service, is she ? You 
 carry provisions to the gold-diggings, eh ? And what else do 
 you carry? Has Long Tom any family? Are there any 
 little Toms?" 
 
 "Hush, hush, my dear fellow; do be quiet," cried Ernest. 
 " Upon my word, you are very incautious. If it had not 
 been for that noisy varlet with the trombone yonder, who is 
 fast blowing himself into a consumption, somebody would have 
 overheard you." 
 
 " Is this your walking-stick ? " said I, producing the rapier- 
 cane. 
 
 " Yes; I left it at your lodgings. Rather a pretty toy, isn't 
 it?" 
 
 " Particularly so," unsheathing it ; " and pray," pointing to 
 the blood, " do you generally perform the part of ship-surgeon, 
 and phlebotomise your patients with this? " 
 
 " Oh, there is a droll story connected with that ; I will relate 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 413 
 
 it to you some day. Come, brother Sparrs, do not look so 
 sour ; this is a friend of ours, and one not given to gossipping. 
 Won't you stay with us ? " 
 
 "No; I must return on board." 
 
 " Then go, you owl ! " and the mute of the Dodo, killing a 
 large mosquito with his palm as he arose, left the garden. 
 
 * Murder will out, you see, mon cher capitaine," said I. " I 
 thought you a very pretty fellow until to-night, and now " 
 
 *' You know my real character, you think, but you do not, 
 nor shall you leave this place until I have in some measure un- 
 deceived you. Hear a short story. I shall cut it as short as 
 possible, that you may not yawn. I am a gentleman by birth, 
 as well as by education, and by feeling, too, I believe, but I 
 was born under an unlucky planet. The Fates have not treat- 
 ed me handsomely. I have experienced a heavy misfortune. 
 Of my parents I shall not speak now ; I shall confine this tale 
 to those particulars which immediately concern myself. From 
 rny earliest childhood I was always fond of the sea ; and a 
 voyage or two across the Atlantic, backed up by my previous 
 knowledge of naval matters, made me a perfect sailor. The 
 more the winds blew, and the billows leaped and roared, the 
 more I liked it ; so, as I had money at command, I bought a 
 little vessel (not the Dodo), fitted her out in the most beautiful 
 manner imaginable, and made several successful cruises. But 
 during one of these, as I was on my return homeward, and 
 hugging the Mexican coast, I had the luck, one dark night, to 
 be boarded by a scoundrel of a pirate, who mistook me for a 
 rich Spanish galleon, laden with gold dust, of which he had 
 long been in search. As I was napping unsuspiciously below, 
 I knew nothing of the affair until it was over, and the rascal 
 had got safely away. I then found three of my crew dead 
 upon deck, several more lying bathed in their blood, and my 
 cabin completely ransacked. Among other things, they had 
 taken a hamper of wine, and my chronometer, without which, 
 you know, a captain is almost helpless upon a wide ocean. I 
 could have put up with the loss of these, but there was a cool 
 impudence about the whole business which exasperated me 
 
414 WIIITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 very much; and the moment morning had dawned, seeing a 
 sail in the offing, I clapped on every stitch of canvas I could 
 carry, and gave her chase. I had no doubt that it was the 
 pirate ; but a stern chase, they say, is a long chase, and I did 
 not come up with her until night, when, laying my little vessel 
 skilfully alongside, followed by my crew, cutlass in hand, I 
 leaped upon her deck. 'No quarter!' cried I; 'down with 
 the dogs!' There was a smart scuffle, you may suppose, but 
 they did not make half the resistance I expected they would. 
 In fact, I was quite surprised to obtain a victory upon such 
 easy terms. Seven of my brave lads were wounded, but none 
 killed. The pirates, however, had suffered severely. Nine of 
 them never moved again, a great many (the cowards !) had 
 jumped overboard in their fright, and several others were 
 gashed and mutilated in a shocking manner. 
 
 " ' Which is the captain of your gang?' I a?ked. 
 
 " * I am the captain,' said a tall, athletic seaman, with a 
 sabre- cut that reached from lip to ear. 
 
 " ' Choose the plank, or the yardarm ?' 
 
 " ' The plank it will be the death of a sailor; the other is 
 more suitable to one of your profession.' 
 
 " * Be civil, sir, or I will tie you up to the gangway, and 
 give you a dozen before you go.' 
 
 " ' Work your will; I am at your mercy now. I ask no 
 quarter, and it were all one if I did.' 
 
 " ' You put on the air of an honest man, and no pirate.' 
 
 " ' I am an honest man. I do not know what you mean by 
 calling me a pirate; I fought in defence of my ship.' 
 
 "'And did not overhaul me last night as I lay napping; 
 nor kill three of my men, of course, nor carry away my chro- 
 nometer?' 
 
 " ' I did not.' 
 
 " A cold sweat broke out upon my forehead, and I almost 
 fell upon the deck. I had made a mistake : this was not the 
 pirate. I frankly confessed my error, and told the merchant 
 captain he was free. He smiled scornfully, as evidently not 
 believing one word of my tale; and the momeiit I had returned 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 415 
 
 on board my own ship, and he had once more got possession 
 of his, he began to blaze away at me with his only gun, but it 
 was loaded with grape, and took fatal effect. Another of my 
 crew was killed, and three more were wounded ; I was hit too. 
 A minute afterwards I heard the cry, ' Boarders on the bow!' 
 and now commenced the most desperate hand-to-hand fight I 
 have ever witnessed. But we had the majority of numbers, 
 and the enemy, if I may call them such, were cut down to a 
 man. The merchant captain and I crossed sabres last. I 
 would have spared a better man than myself, but he would 
 have no quarter, and I buried my blade up to the hilt in his 
 body. I was obliged to do it in self-defence. The few re- 
 maining hands in the merchant-brig, seeing how matters went, 
 sheered off, and we saw no more of them. Sparrs, my mate, 
 advised me to give chase again, and blow her up, that the sur- 
 vivors of her crew might tell no tales; but I refused to shed 
 more blood. God knows I never intended to shed any; I 
 merely wished to redress a wrong. 
 
 "Months elapsed. Meantime (as I afterwards found) the 
 brig had reached New York, and given a description of our 
 brush with her, as well as all the particulars of the first attack ; 
 and one night, as I was on my voyage homeward, I was haile 1 
 by an American sloop of war. I had orders to heave to while 
 she sent a party to board me. I should have submitted, and 
 all might yet have gone well, but my temper would not allow 
 me, and I beat them off. They gave chase, of course. I had 
 no shot left, and very little powder. What little I had I 
 crammed into a carronade, with a quantity of old broken 
 bottles; then, levelling the gun with my own hand, blew its 
 contents into their faces, and, favoured by the darkness, slipped 
 quietly away. 
 
 " America was now no place for me, and, tossing the greater 
 part of my cargo to the fishes, I stood over to the coast of 
 Africa. While there, I had the good fortune one night to fall 
 in with a slaver. I knew that she could be after no good, for 
 the moment she caught sight of us, she shook out all her can- 
 vas, and showed us her heels. I thought the adventure might 
 
416 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 be turned to account, gave chase again in my turn, came up 
 with her, had a brush for it, drove her crew overboard, and 
 set the slaves at liberty. Poor devils! Never was such a 
 hullaballoo heard before; you would have thought Pandemo- 
 nium had broken loose. Such knocking off of fetters, and 
 such chattering, and such an exhibition of red lips and white 
 teeth, and such a capering of black figures about the decks! 
 They were almost mad with joy, and I was some time in re- 
 storing order. When I had done that, I shipped them all on 
 board my own vessel, took possession of the slaver, and left 
 them to their fate, while I made sail westward with my prize, 
 and in the course of time reached New York. 
 
 " You will wonder how I could summon the assurance to pre- 
 sent myself in New York ; but I had been absent so long, 
 and was so changed in appearance, that I felt sure nobody 
 would know me, and, if things came to the worst, I could at 
 any time make a straightforward statement of my grievances, 
 and put aside the charge of piracy upon the high seas that had 
 been preferred against me. I took care to have my vessel pro- 
 perly consigned to a merchant here, so that I was asked no 
 awkward questions ; and it is generally understood that this 
 gentleman purchased her from your government, whose cruis- 
 ers enjoy the honour of having captured her. I have been 
 urged to make a confession of the little affair with the merchant 
 captain and his crew, but I am too indolent, and fear it might 
 involve my liberty. There, you are in possession of the whole 
 story. I am now going to make a voyage to California, nomi- 
 nally to carry provisions to the gold-diggings, but in reality to 
 try and fall in with that vagabond pirate, who boarded me in 
 the dark, and carried away my chronometer. I trace all my 
 troubles back to the adventure of that night, and the grudge I 
 owe him has been gathering interest ever since." 
 
 " But do you expect to catch him ? " 
 
 " Yes, for this reason : a pirate is like an old rat he has 
 a particular run, and likes to keep to it. He may burrow else- 
 where for a time, but he is certain eventually to return to his 
 old haunts. I know the latitude in which he may be found, as 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 417 
 
 well as the nooks and corners in which he hides, and shall be 
 sure to pounce upon him some day." 
 
 " 'But may you not make another mistake? There will be 
 a great many vessels returning from California, laden with 
 gold may you not be so shortsighted as to confound one of 
 these with your old friend who eased you of the hampei 
 of wine ? " 
 
 Captain Tregenza appeared to be enjoying his cigar very 
 much. As he made no reply, I supposed him to be chuckling 
 over the prospects of a speedy reckoning with his friend the 
 pirate. 
 
 " At all events," said I, " you will have to be cautious how 
 you mouse about with that rakish schooner of yours. She puts 
 me in mind of a wicked old horse, with his ears laid back. 
 Her appearance is by no means a letter of recommendation. 
 Take care of the American cruisers." 
 
 " Pooh ! I have no fear." 
 
 "Then take care of our British men-of-war." 
 
 " That for them ! " said Ernest, snapping his fingers. " They 
 might pepper their shot about her for an hour, and not stir a 
 plank. She has nothing above water. Look at her shallow 
 hull." 
 
 " The better for boarders." 
 
 " Ha ! has she no wings ? " 
 
 " But the race is not always to the swift." 
 
 " I see what you mean. She shall never be taken ; I will 
 blow her to the moon first ! " 
 
 " Who was the stout seafaring man that we encountered in 
 the Battery Garden one evening, and asked if you and he had 
 not met before ? " 
 
 " I have some recollection of running short of water once, 
 and wanting to borrow a little of his. As he was rather saucy, 
 however, we had recourse to the persuasive powers of Long 
 Tom, who soon obtained permission for us to help ourselves. 
 Come, they are locking the gates; it is time we retired." 
 
418 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 HEAP THE SEVENTY-SIXTH. 
 
 I was seized one day with a sudden whim to inspect Captain 
 Tregenza's symmetrical little vessel again ; and jumping into a 
 boat, pulled towards her. Ernest, who was on the point of 
 sailing, happened to be in a rather jocular mood, and refused 
 to let me board him. He pushed a great horse-pistol into my 
 face, and put on his most terrible look. I was not to be beaten 
 off, however, and effected a lodgment upon the deck, without 
 experiencing any very serious loss of blood. 
 
 " All ! we should have our boarding nettings ready for such 
 as you," cried he, laughing; and repairing to the cabin, we 
 drank our last bottle of wine together. The surly mate was 
 there, and we pledged each other grimly. 
 
 " You must not go away under the impression that Sparrs 
 is at all a bad fellow," said Ernest, ''for a more worthy crea- 
 ture and a better sailor never cracked biscuit. But he is pure 
 mastiff, and must be known to be appreciated. He is no beauty, 
 to be sure, particularly about the figure-head." 
 
 " Rather bluff in the bows certainly," said I, anxious to be 
 revenged upon Mr Sparrs for his continued sulkiness toward 
 me. Much to my astonishment, however, he viewed the re- 
 mark quite as a compliment, and, stretching an enormous 
 bronze hand across the table, gave mine a squeeze that I shall 
 not easily forget; then, without prefacing his intention in 
 any way whatever, he roared, rather than sang, the first verse 
 of "All in the Downs the fleet was moored." So sublime and 
 extemporaneous a piece of vocalism was fatal to the gravity of 
 both Ernest and myself, and we laughed till the tears rolled 
 down our cheeks ; but this unbecoming merriment did by no 
 means ruffle the equanimity of Mr Sparrs, who was not a man 
 to be discomposed by trifles, and resting his palms upon the 
 table, he arose with the view r of giving his lungs better play. 
 I cannot describe the effect this sudden and unlooked-for ebul- 
 lition of naval enthusiasm had upon me. The feelings with 
 which I had hitherto regarded Mr Sparrs underwent a com- 
 
WHITTLINGS FUOM THE WEST. 419 
 
 plete revolution. He was evidently a man of strong poetical 
 tastes and sterling merit, and, as a proof that I was seriously 
 moved, I expressed myself willing to forgive him the three re- 
 maining verses of the song. 
 
 Ernest now took me over every part of his pet schooner, 
 and, after pointing out all her good qualities, concluded by 
 putting a sabre into my hand, and giving me a lesson in the 
 sword exercise. I knew something of it, and was within an ace 
 of chopping a piece off one of his ears, but he said that he in 
 return could have me any moment he pleased ; in proof of which 
 assertion he gave my sabre a whisk, and laid the flat of his 
 own suddenly upon my head. He then showed me a very 
 pretty feint and cut of his own invention, to which he defied 
 me to produce a ready parry ; and furthermore made it appa- 
 rent that, if you gave a man the first point instantly upon your 
 having guarded the St George, you were sure to lay him at 
 your feet, with other neat and dexterous manoeuvres of the 
 kind, which I doubt not I shall be able to- turn to account if I 
 should ever find myself at close quarters with a dismounted 
 dragoon. This was the last interview I had with Captain 
 Tregenza. He was to sail the next day, and as we parted, he 
 looked over the Dodo's side, and said, " Don't forget to glance 
 over the foreign intelligence in the papers now and then, when 
 you have returned to England." 
 
 " Why ! what shall I see there ? " 
 
 " Did you not say that there would be a good many ships 
 returning from the diggings, laden to the very water's edge 
 with gold ingots ? " 
 
 "Yes; well?" 
 
 " Put your ear closer. Ah, never mind, Sparrs is calling 
 me. Here, take this old rapier-stick, it will bring me to your 
 thoughts sometimes when we are far apart. Farewell ! " 
 
 Ernest waved his hand, and I pulled away. My gaze dwelt 
 upon the roguish schooner. She put me more than ever in 
 mind of a wicked old horse, with a Roman nose, and his ears 
 laid parallel with the horizon. 
 
420 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 A clock striking; strange voices in my ear; the room itself 
 strange to me, and everything strange in the room. The fur- 
 niture, the pictures, the gilt chandelier that hung from the 
 ceiling, I had never seen them before. And what an odd be- 
 wildering sensation I had in my brain; and what a languor of 
 limb! "Tell me the meaning of this, somebody," cried I, 
 looking round; "what have I been doing: and why am I 
 stretched out here; and for what purpose are all those phials, 
 with the long labels hanging from their necks, like thin gen- 
 tlemen with their cloaks blown out by the wind? And why 
 do you talk in whispers to each other ? " 
 
 " Because, though you are getting better fast, you are far 
 from strong yet," said a genteel-looking, elderly gentleman, 
 who sat at my bedside. I afterwards knew his name to be 
 Dr Trehearn. 
 
 " But what am I here for at all ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes, I should have told you that first; of course you 
 are unconscious of everything that has transpired lately. Have 
 you any recollection of going into the park, and sitting on one 
 of those benches near the fountain?" 
 
 " Yes ; how long was it since ? I have no idea ? " 
 
 " Several days; can you recollect anything further?" 
 
 " I remember feeling ill, nothing more." 
 
 " I daresay not. Well, you were picked up insensible, and 
 happened to be recognised by a certain Dr Lyon, who, forget- 
 ting your address, had you conveyed hither, and sent for me. 
 This is Hudson Street, and you are in very good hands, I as- 
 sure you. You have been delirious, and we were consulting 
 upon the expediency of having your head shaved. Oh, you 
 need not clap your hand on it so; we did not actually get it 
 done, and the crisis is past ; but, as I remarked before, you 
 are far from well, and will have to lie in bed for some time. 
 In addition to your other ailments, too, you have a most des- 
 perate attack of what is termed Canadian cholera, a complaint 
 very common to strangers in this country. It requires careful 
 treatment. Sip a little of this." 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
WHITTLIKGS FROM THE WEST. 421 
 
 " Decoction of the slippery elm-bark, a very palatable be- 
 verage indeed." 
 
 I tasted it, and pulled a wry face. 
 
 "And pray what delicacy have you in the other jug?" 
 
 " Catnip-tea, a most inviting liqueur. Give me your hand," 
 feeling my pulse ; " thank you ; oh, you are doing very nicely." 
 
 " Pray are you acquainted with a Miss Westbrook?" 
 
 " Quite well. Westbrook ! That was the name Lyon tried 
 to think of. We will send at once to her, or she will be getting 
 the Hudson dragged." 
 
 In the evening Doctor Trehearn came again, made me put 
 out my tongue, examined my symptoms, and cried, " You must 
 have it ; no half measures will do now ; " and he began to pre- 
 pare a mixture. " I have known it administered with great 
 success in the West Indies," he continued, " and I am disposed 
 to give it a trial. You will find this sharp, perhaps, but agree- 
 able withal ; are you ready ? " 
 
 " Tell me what this is." 
 
 " We do not allow our patients to inquire what medicines 
 we administer to them." 
 
 " Then I will tell you. It is the strongest pyroligneous acid, 
 saturated with salt. I shall be choked." 
 
 " Swallow this instantly," said Doctor Trehearn, holding 
 the cup to my teeth, "or I have four men in the lobby, who 
 will come in and hold you while I pour it down your throat." 
 
 I saw that the doctor was in earnest, and took the potion, 
 which I had no sooner done, than I began to feel much as 
 Mount Vesuvius must do an hour previous to a grand erup- 
 tion. 
 
 " We only give this in obstinate cases," said Doctor Tre- 
 hearn, "and yours is one. Lie quiet now; talk if you will, 
 but don't move." 
 
 "Is there any danger?" 
 
 " There has been, but your constitution will pull you through 
 it. I do not think you will die this time. I see you are not 
 feeling very comfortable just now. Shall I relate you an anec- 
 dote or two?" 
 
422 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 " One, if you please ; and, if I like it, I can ask for another." 
 
 " We physicians sometimes see droll things. A fit of illness 
 has a fine effect upon the conscience. A sick bed is the best 
 possible stimulus to one's reflective powers that is, if one hap- 
 pens to possess any. I have known many strong men, who 
 have led the lives of beasts of prey, quake like very cowards 
 when they suspected that their last hour drew near. I am 
 glad of it. If the villain and the atheist could die with the 
 calmness of the Christian, where would be the moral? But I 
 was going to tell you a story not a story, a fact, upon my 
 honour. It occurred only the other day. 
 
 " There dwelt in this city, about two years since, an old 
 gentleman of the name of Withers. He was very rich, and 
 the father of a large family, who had a right to his wealth 
 when it should please God to take him. But old Mr Withers, 
 at the age of eighty-five, had a fancy for a second wife. He 
 conceived a regard for one of his daughters' maids, an impu- 
 dent baggage; and, to the infinite chagrin of all those who 
 had the honour of being connected with him, married her. 
 She soon, as might have been expected, gave herself fine airs, 
 and cooked up a quarrel between Mr Withers and his children, 
 whom the old gentleman eventually disinherited, and expelled 
 his house. He made a fresh will, and settled everything upon 
 the impudent baggage alluded to. 
 
 " One day Mr Withers was taken alarmingly ill, and I was 
 sent for in great haste. I had heard all the particulars of his 
 courtship and wedding, and happened to be intimate with 
 several members of his family, at whose misfortunes I felt se- 
 riously grieved. Well, I went to see the old gentleman, and 
 found that he had not long to live. His constitution was 
 breaking up rapidly. He looked in my face, and read his 
 doom there. He asked if I had no hope of his recovery. I 
 shook my head, and begged that if he had any little worldly 
 matters to arrange, he would not neglect them. He said all 
 was arranged. 'Would he not see his children?' Here that 
 puss, his wife, who was standing by the side of the bed, stuck 
 her arms akimbo, and said, it was not Mr Withers's wish or 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 423 
 
 intention to have his last moments made uneasy by any inter- 
 views of the kind; and, for her part, she would rather the sub- 
 ject were dropped. I took a savage pinch of snuff, and looked 
 again at Mr Withers. He said he wished to die in peace with 
 everybody,; but eventually decided upon seeing no one save 
 myself and his wife. 
 
 " ' Perhaps you may have no objection to a little conversa- 
 tion with a clergyman,' I was beginning to add. 
 
 " ' Bah !' cried Mr Withers, turning his back suddenly upon 
 me, and upsetting all my snuff. 
 
 " The next morning I drew a chair to his bedside again, and 
 examined his symptoms attentively. The prospect of death 
 terrified him; and, pressing my hand, he begged that I would 
 exert my utmost skill in his case. 
 
 " ' I have already done that, my dear sir,' said I ; t and we 
 must leave the issue in the hands of Him, without whose per- 
 mission, we are told, not even a sparrow falls to the ground 
 I can do no more. Your conscience is so perfectly at rest, too, 
 that I can hope ibr no amelioration of the symptoms. I mere- 
 ly allude to that matter, because it sometimes happens that a 
 weight upon a person's conscience, when his body is emaciated, 
 has a tendency to pull him still lower; whereas, on the con- 
 trary, I have known instances of of but this has nothing to 
 do with a case like the present. You are excuse me, if it 
 looks like flattery one in a thousand.' 
 
 " A movement of the bedclothes. 
 
 " ' You enjoy the respect of all around you.' 
 
 " A groan. 
 
 " You are the idol of your family.' 
 
 " More groans. 
 
 " * You have been an affectionate parent to them.' 
 
 " Great excitement. 
 
 " ' A better father, a more exemplary man, a more perfect 
 Christian stay, my dear sir, you must not get up have the 
 goodness to draw that leg in again. If I can do anything for 
 you, say the word/ 
 
 " ' Send for my lawyer.' 
 
424 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 " * I would rather not. I think him a rogue ; he would do 
 you no good, believe me.' 
 
 ** ' Send for another, then any one whom you please.' 
 
 " I had a brother-in-law in the profession, and ran for him. 
 He seized his blue bag, we jumped into a coach, and reached 
 Mr Withers's house before the old gentleman had fallen asleep 
 again, or had time to change his mind. My brother-in-law 
 was a good-humoured little dumpling of a man, full of busi- 
 ness, and with a system of doing things peculiar to himself. 
 He planted a table by the bedside, put two chairs, one for me, 
 and one for his own use, drew some documents from the blue 
 bag, nibbed his pen, plumped it to the bottom of the inkstand, 
 and went through the preliminaries usual to a business like the 
 one on hand. At this stage of the proceedings, however, Mrs 
 Withers made her appearance, with an air; whereupon my 
 brother-in-law pushed his pen suddenly into the inkstand, 
 threw himself suddenly back in the chair, twirled his thumbs, 
 and hummed a tune. 
 
 " * Why do you hesitate ? * asked Mr Withers. 
 
 " * We are not alone, my dear sir; excuse me, we are not 
 alone. I like I enjoy the society of ladies (my brother- 
 in-law pulled up his collar, and trimmed his hair) I delight 
 in the sex; but pardon my weakness, my dear sir business 
 is business; with a lovely, a fascinating creature like your 
 wife in the room, I should never be able to confine my at- 
 tention to to in fact, I you understand me, perhaps, for 
 really ' 
 
 " * Charlotte, have the goodness to leave us,' murmured Mr 
 Withers. 
 
 " My brother-in-law bounced from his chair, and, advancing 
 in a most insinuating manner, offered the lady his arm (she 
 appeared moved by this gallantry), stuck his small crop of hair 
 up in a steeple upon his head, and, winking humorously at me 
 over his shoulder as he went, led Mrs Withers to the door, the 
 key of which he turned very gravely, and then walked in a 
 buoyant way back to his chair. Business was now proceeded 
 with in earnest. 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 125 
 
 "'To Mary, my eldest daughter what did you say, sir?' 
 he asked. 
 
 " * All my freehold property in Wall Street, consisting ' 
 
 " * Yes, yes, never mind that; I will arrange the particulars. 
 Very good; then comes the farm and land at Hoboken. 1 
 
 " ' To Caroline, my second daughter, provided that she has 
 the old well (for I tumbled down it once, and had to be wound 
 up in the bucket) filled, and a pump put in its place.' 
 
 " ' Very good; and now to little Agnes, with the golden hair 
 and dark blue eyes ' 
 
 " ' My four houses at Brooklyn, facing the river-side, to- 
 gether with all my jewellery and plate.' 
 
 " ' Yes, just so. Now, there comes Tom, whom you directed 
 me to leave till the last. A nice boy, Tom know him well 
 a promising lad very fond of killing cats. Five thousand, I 
 think you said, and all your horses.' 
 
 " * Stay, he called me an old curmudgeon.' 
 
 " * Well, then, we can make it six thousand, and throw in 
 the old family carriage. Now, as regards this house ; to your 
 wife, if I did not misunderstand you ; and was it two or three 
 hundred a-year for life, together with the residue hum ha 
 yes after my just debts shall have that will do, thank 
 you. We will have it properly drawn out and attested at 
 once ' 
 
 " And here the story, which has reached to a greater length 
 than I intended, may end. The old gentleman lived four-and- 
 twenty hours after he had made his will, and his family are 
 now enjoying the property." 
 
 Having finished his anecdote, Dr Trehearn said, " Now I 
 am going to leave you ; if you should feel thirsty by and by, 
 sip some of that slippery elm-bark, and do not spare the catnip- 
 tea, which is really excellent almost an inducement to one to 
 be ill. I think I hear the voice of Dr Lyon in the passage. 
 Good- by." 
 
 In a few days I was pronounced out of danger, and in a fair 
 way of recovery. But I was still so weak, that Dr Trehearn 
 ordered me to remain in bed. He visited me twice every day, 
 
426 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 and always related some agreeable anecdote, calculated to put 
 me in a good humour. Mr Headley and Mr Merrivale, too, 
 came to sit with me occasionally, and Miss Westbrook hourly 
 sent me some delicacy, of which Dr Trehearn forbade my 
 touching one morsel. One evening I awoke from a refreshing 
 sleep, and saw him sitting by my bedside, with a tray before 
 him, and a knife and fork in his hand. He appeared to be en- 
 joying something very much. 
 
 " Oh, you are awake, eh? A foolish woman a most foolish 
 woman," said Dr Trehearn, pushing the tray away, and wiping 
 his lips with the cloth. 
 
 "Why, who? Do you mean Miss Westbrook? What has 
 she done. There is a very savoury smell ; what is it?" 
 
 " Never mind, sir ; in the present debilitated state of your 
 digestive organs, it was not fit cheer for you. Here," handing 
 me a jug and glass, "do not spare the catnip- tea, which is ad- 
 mirable. I never tasted finer. I shall let you get up to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " I don't care how soon, for I am anxious to get down into 
 Kentucky." 
 
 "I shall be anxious to get you into a strait-jacket, if you 
 continue to talk such nonsense. You will never see Kentucky, 
 if I have any voice in the matter." 
 
 "What! not visit the Mammoth Cave?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Nor Boston?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Nor Philadelphia?" 
 
 " Nor Philadelphia. This climate does not suit your consti- 
 tution. The moment you are well enough, you must leave for 
 England. A sea voyage will bring you round again. Another 
 month's sojourn in this country would put an end to you, and 
 I should have to experience the melancholy gratification of fol- 
 lowing you to the grave. By the by, what nonsense you talked 
 the other day when you were non compos. Who was the little, 
 amphibious, toad-complexioned man you raved so about?" 
 
 " I have no recollection of so distinguished an acquaintance." 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 427 
 
 " Look here ; I took down these lines at your dictation. 
 Shall I read them?" 
 " If you please." 
 The doctor put a gold glass to his eye, and read as follows: 
 
 A little man, not four feet high, 
 
 An ugly, dwarfish mannikin, 
 With leering lip, and evil eye, 
 
 And yellow teeth, and tawny skin. 
 
 Away, thou hideous fiend, away ! 
 
 When wilt thou vanish from my sight 
 Haunting my fancy all the day, 
 
 And gliding through my dreams by night? 
 
 In every clime, in every place, 
 
 At home abroad by land or sea 
 That wither'd form and hated face 
 
 Are ever visible to me. 
 
 If to the forest's gloom I hie, 
 
 Where step has never trod save mine, 
 Still there that demon shape I spy, 
 
 Coil'd at the foot of some old pine . 
 
 And when, with wild and.headlong leap, 
 
 I cleave Ontario's depths of blue, 
 Still, like some phantom of the deep, 
 
 Thou'lt mark me mock me and pursue. 
 
 Loathed image of the evil one, 
 
 Or spirit of some secret foe, 
 Who art thou, and what have I done, 
 
 That thou wilt dog my footsteps so] 
 
 And folding the paper leisurely up, and replacing it in his 
 pocket, Dr Trehearn bustled away, to complete his morning 
 calls. 
 
 HEAP THE SEVENTY-SEVENTH. 
 
 One morning I received two letters. The handwriting of 
 both were strange to me. I broke the seal of the first, which 
 was from Twobears Ramsay, and ran as follows : 
 
428 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 " BUTTERNUT CASTLE, May 6, 
 Year of our Lord, one eight four seven. 
 
 " My Dear Abel, I write you a line as the certain man 
 we read of in Scripture drew his bow at a venture ; for you 
 may, long ere this, have crossed the sea, and trodden the shores 
 of your native land. Health and happiness to my old friend, 
 whithersoever the vagabond Fates may lead him. 
 
 " The captain is sitting at my elbow, and dictating, though 
 I have told him several times that I do not require his assist- 
 ance. So, if I indite you an unintelligible letter, you will 
 know whom you have to thank for it. He desires me to ex- 
 press his regrets that you did not remain the winter with us ; 
 and begs that, if you ever conceive any sudden disgust for the 
 world, and all therein, you will clap your knapsack on your 
 shoulder, and set your face for Butternut. I told him the 
 other day that I gave you the few first sheets of his memoirs, 
 and he fell into a violent rage, but presently smoothed his 
 moustache, pulled my ear in a friendly way, and asked if I 
 did not think you had better have the remainder of them also. 
 These, therefore, and anything else we have, are quite at your 
 service. 
 
 " Tom Fling and Hummingbird have been united in holy 
 wedlock. The captain performed the service ; there was no- 
 body to forbid the banns, and everything passed off smoothly. 
 Fling was a little at fault in the matter of the responses, but, upon 
 the whole, acquitted himself with much decency. Both he and 
 Hummingbird send their loves to you. They thought of going 
 to reside in the settlements, but when it came to the point, 
 neither of them had the heart to leave us, and we shall most 
 probably perform the remainder of life's strange pilgrimage to- 
 gether. We could not have lived asunder. 
 
 " Nickstick, who often talks of his friend Heap-of-hair, made 
 an attempt in the fall to get westward, but the snow set in, and 
 obliged him to return. He has been practising with the pistols 
 you gave him, and can hit a dollar- piece at thirty paces. I 
 never knew till the other day that the poor lad loved Hum- 
 mingbird. He told Fling so flatly, but gave him to under- 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 429 
 
 stand at the same time, that henceforth he should always re- 
 gard her as a sister. He said he should have to look at her 
 with the other side of his heart in future. 
 
 "Poll Crake (who is busy skinning a deer) had a narrow 
 escape of his life a week since. He received orders from the 
 captain to fell a stout tamarack, and, finding the tree rather 
 obstinate in yielding to his wishes, ran at it with his head, but 
 missed the mark, rolled over into a ravine, and put his collar- 
 bone out. The captain set it for him, and he is doing well. 
 
 " I have merely given you a short summary of events ; I 
 will epistolise you at length when I can learn your proper ad- 
 dress. So, in the interim, believe me, &c., &c. 
 
 "Abel Log, Esq. 
 
 " P. S Nothing more of the Thorns. Diver has j ust brought 
 rae in a large white hare. I shall make the skin into a winter 
 cap for Hummingbird." 
 
 ******* 
 
 I am sensible that there are a great many subjects and scenes 
 connected with New York (as well, indeed, as with many 
 other localities I have visited) of which, in place of dwelling 
 upon lighter topics, I ought to have treated. But I must re- 
 mind the reader again that the hasty memoranda I have 
 thrown together were never intended as a seriously descriptive 
 work, nor as a guide-book to the places at which I have barely 
 touched. Tastes differ, and it is very probable that I have de- 
 picted many scenes for which the majority of persons have no 
 relish at all, and omitted accounts of others that would have 
 afforded them much edification. I cannot help this now, but 
 I regret it. We will suppose a party of gentlemen let loose 
 upon a desert island. One has a turn for botany ; he falls to 
 work instantly, with glass on nose, to inspect every novel plant 
 he meets with. A second is a geologist; he thumps stones to 
 pieces, looks for fossils, and examines strata. A third is a 
 lover of the picturesque, and a landscape painter ; he sits down 
 upon a knoll of turf, half closes his eyes, and lets " contempla- 
 tion have her fill." A fourth is an ornithologist ; he discovers 
 a nest of young birds under the brow of a cliff, and deposits 
 
430 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 them in his hat. A fifth, who likes nature very well', but 
 something to eat and drink better, has a lunch in his pocket, 
 and finds immediate occupation. A sixth is a sportsman ; he 
 has his dog and gun, he goes in search of wolves or wild 
 fowl. A seventh has his book, and seeks no better company. 
 An eighth but I need not go further ; I merely intend to 
 show that we each have our whims and fancies, and are sure 
 to talk of and dwell upon those themes which have most inte- 
 rest for us; nor should the botanist quarrel with the sports- 
 man, nor the sportsman grumble at the student. There are 
 certain matters, nevertheless, which should more have engaged 
 my attention, and many a useful and elevating moral that I 
 might have drawn, which I have neglected altogether. In my 
 defence, I can only state, that the slides of my magic lantern 
 were painted in a hurry ; many of them are illustrations of 
 little and unimportant subjects; other glasses have been broken, 
 and thrown aside ; some have got lost r a few were too whim- 
 sical and grotesque for exhibition ; and those of which I have 
 availed myself would look to much better advantage, if they 
 had received each a new coat of varnish. The worst of it all, 
 too, is, that the company those who have been invited to see 
 the show are on the other side of the screen, and I cannot 
 tell, as they have remained profoundly silent, whether they 
 have been moved to laughter, or vexed to tears ; or whether, 
 indeed (what is far more likely), they have not all long since 
 fallen asleep. 
 
 ****** * 
 
 The second letter was from Mr Benjamin Chaffers, formerly 
 
 of the Hotel du C , Montreal. 
 
 " TEMPERANCE COFFEE-HOUSE, near the Mountain, 
 July 17, 1847. 
 
 " Dear and respected Sir, I have been at very considerable 
 trouble in procuring your address. I repaired to your old 
 lodgings, in the hope of obtaining it there, but they refused to 
 give me any tidings of your movements, and had the addi- 
 tional assurance to shut the door in my face. I and a few of 
 the most select of my companions, therefore, resort thither 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 431 
 
 regularly once a-week, at the hour of midnight, to serenade the 
 landlady upon trombones, and blow asafcetida through the key- 
 hole. My next application was to Colonel Banjo, who supplied 
 me with the requisite information at once, but intimated that, 
 as his fortunes were rather changed, he hoped to be excused 
 the formality of inviting me to dinner. 
 
 "You can form no conception of the base treatment I have 
 
 received at the hands of Madame St . It was a hard 
 
 thing to be ejected at a moment's warning from the door of 
 that very hotel which I had been instrumental in pushing up 
 into popularity. But the hour of retribution will arrive. I 
 owe that unworthy woman one hundred dollars (I will not be 
 particular in stating the exact amount of odd pence). / will 
 pay them and if she has a heart, sir if she has a heart it 
 will be moved. The revenge would be terrible, but I believe 
 I could go through it. Do not attempt to dissuade me from 
 my 'purpose. It would be of no use. I am adamant. My 
 mind is made up. 
 
 " You were once so kind, my dear sir, as to oblige me with 
 the loan of a few shillings. I liked the way in which you 
 pushed it upon me, and had too much delicacy to think of re- 
 turning it, the sum was so paltry. I thought I might some 
 day have occasion to apply to you again, and then the two 
 amounts might be put into one, and remitted pleasantly by 
 bank order. I am anxious not to have the matter delayed, and 
 would be glad, therefore, if you can now oblige me with the 
 loan of about fifteen pounds. I should have asked for less, but 
 feared you would feel offended if I did so. I shall not want 
 the money for more than a week, or a fortnight at furthest, and 
 if the sum should happen to be a larger one, the obligation 
 will be greater, and the term of accommodation less say four, or, 
 lest any unforeseen event should occur in the interim, eight days. 
 
 " I should be delighted to seek you out in New York. 
 Have you comfortable rooms ? What a rouse we would give 
 them ! Take the will for the deed at present, and believe me 
 to remain Yours till death, 
 
 " Abel Log, I^sq. BENJAMIN CHAFFERS. 
 
432 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 "P.S. You will not feel displeased, perhaps, to learn that I 
 have changed my religious views. I had for a long time been 
 solicited to attend the Unitarian Church. Several of the heads 
 of that respectable community waited on me the other day, and 
 were so polite, that I was induced to acknowledge myself a 
 convert to their way of thinking. Will you be so good as to 
 hint, by return, what the more prominent tenets of these 
 gentlemen's faith are; arid whether you consider them safe." 
 ******* 
 
 I have alluded more than once to the droll scenes that I 
 sometimes witnessed in the streets of New York. The follow- 
 ing, however, in point of humour, eclipsed all others: It was 
 about the hour of midnight. The full moon shone serenely 
 down upon the deserted street, and lent a radiance almost 
 equal to that of the sun. The window of my room looked im- 
 mediately upon an avenue of trees in front of the house, and 
 I lay watching the gleam of silver glory that now and then 
 shot through the foliage, and illuminated the gravel walk be- 
 neath it. Presently, a respectably-dressed man, wearing the 
 air of one who had been partaking pretty freely of the creature 
 comforts under some friend's hospitable roof, staggered into the 
 shade of the avenue, and deposited himself, with a ludicrous 
 despatch, upon the ground, back to a tree, and facing my 
 window. It was plain that he was in merry pin, for he began 
 to warble a fragment of some bacchanalian song, while his 
 white hat, which was ornamented by a broad black crape 
 band, slid gradually from its proper position, downwards to 
 the bridge of his nose. He had not been there long, when 
 three city pigs, who had likewise been spending the evening 
 out, and were jogging decently homeward, espied him under 
 the tree, and gathered round. The gentleman, who was evi- 
 dently a cheerful, chirping soul, took their visit in good part, 
 continued to sing, and, as though he had one of the most select 
 audiences possible, waved his hand, now to this side, now to 
 that, by way of giving the words of the song a proper effect. 
 Upon this, one of the pigs, who was of a more poetical tempe- 
 rament than either of his brothers, and liked to study cha- 
 
WHITTLINGS PROM THE WEST. 433 
 
 racter, sat himself down in a lounging way, as one who had 
 fallen in with something that pleased him, and kept up a steady, 
 good-natured stare upon the worthy against the tree. The 
 second pig had less of the meditative cast of disposition. He 
 was for turning the adventure to account, and, thrusting his 
 snout into the bosom of the gentleman's waistcoat, seemed to 
 be bent upon searching for his pocket-book and purse; while 
 the third pig, who had grosser tastes still, and inherited all the 
 greedy propensities of his fraternity, got possession of the white 
 hat, and, probably with the intention of examining whether it 
 contained anything eatable, plunged his head forcibly into it. 
 The result not being satisfactory to his wishes, he attempted 
 to withdraw himself, but the lining had got over one of his 
 ears, and the effort was not crowned with success. Without 
 imprudently exhausting himself by ineffectual struggles, there- 
 fore, or appearing to be in any way disconcerted by the cala- 
 mity, he quietly quitted the company of his friends, and, with 
 the white hat fixed gracefully upon his brow, and the black 
 band, which had become loosened, streaming out behind him, 
 sauntered demurely away up the centre of the street. It may 
 have little entertainment for the reader, but to the whimsicality 
 of this scene I believe I am mainly indebted for my speedy re- 
 covery from a tedious illness; at all events, I found myself so 
 well the next morning, that Dr Trehearn said he should call in 
 an hour or two to take me for an airing in his carriage. 
 
 The doctor kept his word; and, as we rode out together, I 
 begged that he would relate another of those little anecdotes 
 with which he had expressed himself willing to oblige me. 
 
 " The very thing I was about to do the very thing of all 
 others I was about to do," said Dr Trehearn. " That splendid 
 house yonder, among the trees, suggests it. Patients of mine, 
 my dear sir, but proud people high people the giraffes of the 
 human species. *The Cadogans. I was called in some time 
 since to attend the daughter, who was secretly attached to a 
 friend of mine, a Captain Lechmere. They had been children 
 together, and the friendship of their childhood had ripened into a 
 more important feeling, but quite as pure and honourable to 
 
 2 E 
 
434 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 both parties. However, we shall come to that presently. She 
 was ill; nobody knew what was the matter with her. She 
 was pining away like a sick lily. It was one of those delicate 
 cases that we professional men sometimes meet with. She had 
 a complaint of which young ladies at her age are extremely 
 susceptible. In vulgar parlance, Miss Cadogan was in love. 
 She was a noble, artless girl; but refrained, of course, from 
 alluding to the real cause of her melancholy, * My dear Miss 
 Cadogan,' said I, 'I am an old man, as you see, with grey hair, 
 and one foot in the grave; you may talk to me as you would 
 to your grandfather; pray do. Besides, I may be of use to 
 you. Do not attempt to conceal the truth; all may be well 
 yet. I am sure your affections are set upon a worthy object, 
 and I have little doubt that your sufferings on his account are 
 a trifle to what he is undergoing on yours. I know it, for I 
 happen to be in Captain Lechmere's confidence.' You should 
 have seen the look this poor girl gave me ! I shall never for- 
 get it, and then she blushed in the most beautiful manner pos- 
 sible. I asked her to leave the matter in my hands, as I con- 
 sidered it my duty to break it to her parents. 
 
 " ' Oh no, no, Dr Trehearn ; pray make no allusion to it ; Mr 
 Cadogan is so averse to the mention of Captain Lechmere's 
 name, and mamma has such strange notions of delicacy, 
 that ' 
 
 " ' Tut, tut, my dear girl, there is no crime in your enter- 
 taining a proper regard for a worthy young man, who is en- 
 tirely devoted to you. Hush, not another word; I know the 
 peculiarities of your parents, and undertake to combat them 
 successfully. Indeed, I am under a promise to Captain Lech- 
 mere to break the ice for him, and I will do it, though I tumble 
 in and drown myself in the attempt.' And away I went to 
 hold a conversation with Mr and Mrs Cadogan. 
 
 " * Can you explain to what the indisposition of our daughter 
 is owing, sir?' asked the former, stiffly. 'I believe her lungs 
 are good.' 
 
 " * There is nothing the matter with the lungs, Mr Cadogan.' 
 
 " * The spine may be affected. I have always feared that 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 435 
 
 mma had some affection of the spine,' observed Mrs Cado- 
 gan. 
 
 "'The spine, madam, is in a perfectly healthy state; her 
 spine is as good as yours, or' (observing that he was standing 
 in a very erect and poker-like posture) 'as Mr Cadogan's. 
 The seat of the disorder is the heart.' 
 
 '"The heart!' echoed Mr and Mrs Cadogan, raising their 
 hands in alarm. ' Oh, that is fatal indeed/ 
 
 "'Not so fatal as you suppose, if we proceed advisedly. 
 The affections of the heart are many and various.' 
 
 "'Pray, how many years do you think she will be spared 
 to us?' inquired the lady. 
 
 " * About seventy-five from to-day, madam, I hope/ 
 
 " ' She will not die suddenly, then,' said the gentleman. 
 
 " * Not if you follow my advice. I said that your daughter 
 laboured under a disease of the heart. I mistook. She has 
 no heart at all/ 
 
 " ' Is it possible ? How singular ! I never heard of a case 
 of the kind before !' cried Mr and Mrs Cadogan. * Oh dear!' 
 
 " ' In plain terms, she is in love/ 
 
 " ' Good heavens, this is indeed a blow,' gasped Mrs Cado- 
 gan, sinking into a chair; while her husband (who aspired to 
 a high connection for his daughter) slapped his brow with the 
 palm of his hand, in a way which implied that chaos had come 
 again. 
 
 " ' Love,' repeated I ; ' and a very proper thing, too, I can 
 assure you. A flower of God's own planting in the soil of the 
 human affections/ 
 
 " ' Dr Trehearn, this is indelicate ; have the goodness, 
 sir, to let me know what I am indebted to you, for hence- 
 forth ' 
 
 " ' Henceforth you will carry on a system of persecution 
 against your child, aggravate her melancholy, and drive her 
 into an early grave. Then, sir and madam, as you are bent 
 on acting so cruel and absurd a part, I will publish the whole 
 case in the "Lancet;" and be sure I will paint your folly and 
 cruelty in the colours they deserve. Your daughter is a highly 
 
436 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 virtuous young lady, and attached to a gallant officer, who 
 has distinguished himself, and been complimented publicly by 
 his general. Can you do better for her ? He is your equal in 
 position, and your superior in many things I could name. I 
 am in the habit of speaking my mind. Pray, is love a crime ? 
 Did not Eve love Adam ? did not Rachel love Jacob ? did not 
 Mary the Virgin love Joseph the carpenter? What a to-do 
 is here, about the most likely thing that ever happened in this 
 world! I speak warmly, for I have your own interest and 
 your daughter's at heart. Can I tamely see her wasting away 
 day by day ? Can I be silent when the happiness of so lovely 
 a being is at stake? I have expressed my sentiments and 
 feelings, and will now withdraw. You do not wish me to re- 
 peat my visit. I am too plain-spoken for you. You must 
 have a professional man of the modern school, who will lisp 
 prettily, and wear rings, and play the courtier, and smell of 
 eau de cologne. I wish you good morning !' 
 
 " * Stay, Dr Trehearn,' cried Mr Cadogan, who appeared to 
 be coming to his senses; 'I I have perhaps taken a wrong 
 view of this matter. There is some sense in what you say/ 
 
 " * Nay, I have said a good deal more than I intended. I 
 have gone too far. I was rude.' 
 
 "'No, no, I admired your warmth; it was honest.' 
 
 " ' I have offended Mrs Cadogan ; but she must remember 
 that I am a father, and Captain Lechmere is my friend/ 
 
 " * You have my perfect forgiveness, sir,' said Mrs Cadogan, 
 who was always ruled by her husband; 'our daughter's health 
 must of course be the first consideration, and if Captain Lech- 
 mere ' she glanced at Mr Cadogan. 
 
 " ' Oh, I shall be glad to see Captain Lechmere/ said that 
 gentleman." 
 
 Here Dr Trehearn paused, and used the whip to his horse. 
 
 "Well, and how did all this end?" asked I; "finish the 
 story." 
 
 "In the proper way, to be sure; the young couple were 
 married about a month since, and I still attend the families. 
 The air grows cold, and I must not keep you out longer." 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 HEAP THE SEVENTY-EIGHTH. 
 
 By and by I was able to walk out, but so feeble and at- 
 tenuated was I, that, like Coleridge's Ancient Mariner, 
 
 " I moved, and could not feel my limbs; 
 
 I was so light, almost 
 I thought that I had died in sleep, 
 And was a blessed ghost." 
 
 Dr Trehearn, too, urged me not to delay my return to England, 
 as he feared, if I remained in New York, the climate would 
 eventually kill me. And, in fact, it is a rather fickle one. In 
 the morning (toward the fall of the year), if you go out, you 
 will sometimes require your greatcoat. After breakfast, you 
 can dispense with your greatcoat, and would be glad to part 
 with your other also. About mid-day, the heat grows oppres- 
 sive it ceases to be heat, it is vapour and you are compelled 
 to attire yourself in a straw hat, and the thinnest possible linen 
 jacket and nankeen trousers. In the afternoon, the tempera- 
 ture alters again, and at night you must wrap up as you did 
 in the early part of the day. These sudden changes from heat 
 to cold are very trying to a delicate constitution, and in some 
 cases prove fatal. At all other seasons of the year, however, 
 I believe the climate of New York to be an exceedingly 
 healthy one; indeed, Americans have told me that it is one of 
 the most delightful and salubrious in the world. 
 
 It was accordingly arranged that I should take my passage 
 by the first ship that left for England. At an earlier period of 
 my pilgrimage I should have ridiculed Dr Trehearn's dismal 
 prophecy, and followed the bent of my roving propensities; 
 but I had been absent nearly eighteen months, and for the 
 
 present had my fill of sight- seeing and adventure. The C , 
 
 a fine vessel of about 1500 tons, being advertised to sail in a 
 few days, therefore, and my old friend Mr Carrol of Montreal 
 happening to be bound for England also, we agreed to make 
 the voyage together. 
 
 I had but few acquaintances in the city, and these were 
 most of them of so recent a date, that my farewells were soon 
 
438 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 taken, my portmanteau (I never allowed myself to be en- 
 cumbered with much luggage) packed, and the next morning 
 was to find me once more at sea. 
 
 " I have been absent about a year and a-half," said I, as I 
 lay on my bed, beating off the mosquitoes ; " and during that 
 year and a-half, what a variety of droll incidents have oc- 
 curred, and how many odd characters have I met with ! But 
 what is the meaning of all this?" As I spoke, the walls of 
 the room began to recede; the ceiling was lifted high into the 
 air; the deafening thunder of tumbling waters smote upon my 
 ear; and I found myself at the foot of a tremendous cataract, 
 hemmed in on all sides by lofty precipices of slippery rock, 
 which were clothed with every parasite plant, and overhung 
 by beautiful trees, whose green foliage was wet with the spray 
 of the torrent, and glittering as though it had been sprinkled 
 with diamond dust. A great rattlesnake was wriggling him- 
 self into a hole close by, and a majestic bear sat on a crag 
 above, looking down upon me with a demure air. It occurred 
 to me that I had seen this wild spot before. I could not be 
 mistaken these were the falls of Shawinnegamme, upon the 
 black St Maurice ! As I was gazing upward, a canoe suddenly 
 appeared upon the edge of the steep, and the next moment it 
 had shot safely down. Two figures leaped from it, and began to 
 dash the dew from their curls. "Baptiste I" cried I; "Bap- 
 tiste and Jacques ! are you mad ? What can have induced you 
 to brave the horrors of a shute like that? What is the height, 
 pray ?" 
 
 " Oh, something between two and three hundred feet, mon- 
 sieur ; but what matter ? did you not expect us ? were we not 
 invited? Jacques and I left Trois Rivieres before daybreak 
 this morning, to kill a buck for you ; come, the sooner the fire 
 is lighted the better." 
 
 While I was yet talking to Baptiste, two more figures ap- 
 peared on the height above, shot nimbly down the milk-white 
 torrent, and rolled to my feet. One of them, putting his hand 
 suddenly upon his back, began to use some rather exception- 
 able language. I recognised the voice in a moment ; it was 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 439 
 
 Captain Tophamper, of the Golightly. Baptiste and Jacques 
 ran to help him upon his legs, while I assisted the other. The 
 second was no less a personage than Mr Tongs. They apo- 
 logised for being late. "But where's Major?" cried Cap- 
 tain Tophamper; "I left him lighting his pipe at the fork of 
 the river. Oh, here he comes!" and down slid Mr Major at 
 the word. He alighted gracefully upon his feet, paused a 
 moment to resuscitate his pipe, and then, catching my eye, 
 wiped a horny hand upon his tarry trousers, and gave me joy- 
 ous greeting. He had yet hold of me, when the sound of voices 
 were again heard above, and down came the jolly-boat, with 
 Mr Chin and all the Golightly's crew in it. They set up a pro- 
 digious cheer as soon as they had landed, and, pulling each his 
 forelock, made a scrape at the same time with one foot, in the 
 most approved nautical manner. They then went to assist 
 Baptiste and Jacques in kindling the fire. I now saw the 
 drift of the whole thing. It was evident that I had invited 
 all my old friends and travelling companions to a last carouse 
 before I quitted the shores of America for those of England. 
 I wondered at my previous stupidity, and began to perform the 
 duties of host with proper spirit. 
 
 There was an interval of a few minutes, and then Monsieur 
 Bonbon of Quebec, with his wig tied to a button-hole, to pre- 
 vent it blowing away, was seen making the descent. Next 
 came the Rev. Mr Tombs of Connecticut, and after him 
 Pierre, the calash- driver, astride his vicious horse Bonaparte; 
 he was followed by the Huron chief Tsoohahissen, in a red 
 blanket, and the brothers Bullfrog in white ones, and by Mon- 
 sieur Philippe (of the log-hut below) in no blanket at all. He 
 had his three dogs with him, but apologised for not having 
 brought his wife and daughter, by observing, that, as they 
 were rather susceptible of the cold, he had objected to their 
 shooting the fall so late in the season. 
 
 " All hands down on their knees and blow the fire," cried 
 Captain Tophamper, through his brazen speaking-trumpet; 
 " we shall have it out, if we don't mind." 
 
 There was so quick a succession of parties shooting the fall 
 
440 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 now, that I grew bewildered, and got quite weary of shaking 
 hands with them ; my arm ached, and I retired stily behind a 
 tree, that I might see without being seen. In the midst of the 
 arrivals, I saw Major Tommycod lying upon his face among the 
 foam. Mr Dudge (of the Hotel du C ), with the heavy 
 barrel-organ depending from his neck, had fallen upon the top 
 of him, and the major was being raised to his feet by the hu- 
 mane Mr Date. When I discovered my friend Colonel Banjo, 
 however, in the press, I could no longer restrain myself, and 
 dashing from my concealment, I welcomed the noble veteran 
 cordially. Luke Squiff was wiping the spray from his mas- 
 ter's military surtout with a silk pocket-handkerchief, while 
 the colonel stood gazing upon the motley group of guests with 
 an expression of countenance that would have formed an ad- 
 mirable subject for the pencil of a Hogarth or Cruikshank. 
 Nor was his gravity in any way restored by the arrival of mine 
 host Ali Baba, mounted upon his black steed the Caliph, who 
 cared nothing for a simple snaffle-bit, and had come all the 
 journey at his own pace. The landlord of the Forty Thieves 
 had picked up Mr Knagg and another gentleman on his way. 
 But the Caliph, who was not accustomed to carry more than 
 one at a time, had whisked them off as they crossed the river, 
 and Ali Baba feared they were drowned. I inquired who the 
 third gentleman was. 
 
 " I don't know," replied Ali, " but he had a large wart, with 
 five hairs upon it, just under his left eye." 
 
 "Did he squint?" 
 
 " Horribly." 
 
 " It was Abraham Thorn ; he had no invitation ; I am glad 
 you got rid of him. Shall we see Captain Ramsay to* night, 
 think you?" 
 
 " I fear not ; he dislikes company, and Twobears, I know, 
 is up at Round Island. Look yonder bravely done ; what a 
 splash!" 
 
 I felt a hand on my shoulder, and turning round, saw Harry 
 Tiber, mounted on Brigand. Brigand had the bit between his 
 teeth, and his eye glistened like a live coal. As I patted his 
 
WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 441 
 
 arched neck, he gave his tail a crack by way of acknowledg- 
 ment, and threw a shower of the spray it had gathered in de- 
 scending the cataract over Mr Tongs and the black steward 
 of the Golightly, who were passing with some logs for the fire. 
 Baptiste now came forward to say that the deer was cooked, 
 and the company might take their seats. But there were no 
 seats for them to take ; so Captain Tophamper gave the word 
 to his crew to unship an immense piece of rock that towered 
 near, and break it up into blocks suitable for the purpose. Mr 
 Tiber afterwards said grace, and the smoking venison, under 
 the superintendence of Baptiste and Jacques, was cut up and cir- 
 culated among the guests. We were at first a little at a loss for 
 wine, but it was soon discovered that Colonel Banjo had been 
 so thoughtful as to bring about four dozen bottles of the choicest 
 sherry in either pocket of his military surtout; so many healths, 
 inclusive of those of the absent, were drunk, and we contrived 
 to pass an extremely sociable evening. It would have been 
 objected by some, perhaps, that the meeting was a rather noisy 
 one, but with Shawinnegamme, swollen by recent rains, thun- 
 dering his deepest bass in our ears, how was it to be otherwise? 
 It was toward midnight that Mr Dudge, who had come as 
 proxy for his particular friend Benjamin Chaffers (that gentle- 
 man having got into trouble for assaulting two of the Montreal 
 watchmen), arose with the view of responding to one of the 
 toasts that had been given, but, finding himself at a loss for 
 words, he suddenly seized the handle of the barrel-organ, which 
 hung from his neck, and whirled it round with an energy that 
 caused the whole of the company to spring to their feet, and 
 clap their hands upon their ears. By no means daunted, how- 
 ever, Mr Dudge, instead of taking the hint to spare himself 
 further exertion, began to play quicker and louder, until at 
 length, wound up to a pitch of frenzy, Captain Tophamper, 
 seizing the rock on which he sat, launched it at the head of 
 the indefatigable musician; but Mr Dudge had already taken 
 the alarm, and, making a dash at the perpendicular crag, be- 
 gan to clamber it successfully, grinding as he went, and fol- 
 lowed by all the company, pitching rock after rock at him, till 
 
442 WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 the air was absolutely dark with the formidable missiles, and 
 the scene resembled the furious eruption of some volcanic moun- 
 tain. Still, in spite of all our activity and address, Mr Dudge, 
 leaving the most hideous strain of barrel-music behind him, 
 was distancing us fast, when, with one last prodigious effort, I 
 grasped an enormous fragment of cliff, and standing on tip- 
 toe 
 
 "Heyday! what is all this?" cried Dr Trehearn, seizing 
 me suddenly by the wrist; "is this the way you treat your 
 friends ? You were not satisfied with hurling three pillows at 
 my head, but now you must knock me down with a chair and 
 table ! Come, the wind is fair, and your ship will sail in half 
 an hour. I am going to accompany you on board, so lose no 
 time in despatching your toilet." 
 
 A few hours afterwards, the balmy gales of the blue Atlantic 
 fanned my cheek, and the hospitable shores of America were 
 but a dim speck upon the horizon. 
 
 FINIS.