Chapter 10

“God sees from whole to part;But human soul, must rise from individual to the whole.”

“God sees from whole to part;But human soul, must rise from individual to the whole.”

“God sees from whole to part;But human soul, must rise from individual to the whole.”

“God sees from whole to part;

But human soul, must rise from individual to the whole.”

The Tuscarora Indians emigrated from North Carolina very early in the seventeenth century, and were adopted by the Oneidas.[60]It is said that they were, originally, of the same nation.

Soon after my little excursion to the Tuscaroras, I arrived at Lewistown; the place which made so great a figure in the newspaper annals of the late war.[61]It is a verysmall village. Opposite to this place, across the river Niagara, are the heights of Queenstown. The portage, rendered necessary by the falls of Niagara, commences at this part of the Straits; this being the head of ship navigation from Lake Ontario.

From Lewistown I proceeded down, along the east bank of the river, to Fort Niagara.[62]Colonel Pinkney, who commanded there, is a man of a noble aspect and elegant manners.[63]From him and his lady I experienced a hospitable and kind reception. Whilst at the Fort I was surprised to find that the River Niagara and Lake Ontario never freeze. This is a fact of which I was ignorant.

On the opposite side of the Niagara, is the field where Gen. Brock fell; and on this side is the monument of Colonel Christie:—

“I have seen a tomb by a roaring stream,The dark dwelling of a chief.”

“I have seen a tomb by a roaring stream,The dark dwelling of a chief.”

“I have seen a tomb by a roaring stream,The dark dwelling of a chief.”

“I have seen a tomb by a roaring stream,

The dark dwelling of a chief.”

Colonel Christie was a truly brave and devoted soldier; and General Brock, though a foe, was distinguished for conduct, courage and humanity.[64][63] Fort Niagara is situatedon the east bank of the river of this name, at its junction with Lake Ontario. This is a very important post. The Fort was built by the French in 1751; and in 1759 it was taken by the British General Johnson, after defeating the French army near that place. The vicinity of the Fort was, originally, the peculiar country of the Iroquois, or Six Nations. As to the causes of Lake Ontario, never freezing, it is evident that they must be local and peculiar. Lake Erie, which is not so far north, freezes hard. This circumstance shows, that congelation does not depend so much upon latitude, as upon other circumstances. Abstractedly it is otherwise; but relative to peculiar local causes the position is correct. In Hudson’s Bay, the weather in winter is intensely cold; yet this place is only in the latitude of London. It is generally supposed to be intolerably cold at the North Pole; but the fact may be otherwise. The idea arises from an abstract survey of the nature of latitude, and from connecting it with the known temperature of a particular situation. It is known to be very cold in that part of Greenland which lies on the coast of Baffin’s Bay; and the inference drawn is, that the weather is much more so at the North Pole. But, it may as well be said that because it is cold on the river Piscataqua, it is much more so on the river Thames; and yet here the fact contradicts the argument. In some places under the Equator, the weather is as mild in summer as it is in New-England; why therefore, may it not be as warm in winter at the North Pole, as in the latter place? In point of analogy the question is unanswerable. But there is a more direct argument: in some situations under the equator, there isperpetual snow. I am aware, however, that this depends upon altitude. It is said that there is everlasting ice at the North Pole; [64] but the assertion cannot be correct. The surface of the North Pole consists either of land or ocean; if land it cannot become ice, and if ocean it must continue in a liquid state; for no ocean has ever been known to freeze: the depth of its water, and its perpetual undulation prevent such effect. Besides, in north latitudes as far as eighty or eighty-two, sea fogs are known to prevail, and these too prevent the congelation of the ocean.

The influence of the sun upon the various parts of the earth, during its annual motion, is not yet fully understood; and the effect of local causes adverse from or cooperative with such influence is yet to be learned.[65]

As to the mountains of ice, which have been seen in north latitudes, and which have been mentioned as evidence of the perpetual frost of the North Pole, they, probably, floated from some neighboring bays, such as Baffin’s, Hudson’s, &c. and were formed by the accumulation of several masses of ice, which were created on the surface of these bays, and also by the additions of snow and rain. This last idea seems to be sanctioned by the fact, that from these mountains, as they are called, rivulets of fresh water, produced by their gradual dissolution, have been known to distil from their summit.

“Local and peculiar causes,” with respect to climate, do, in all probability, operate every where. It is, in many cases, as cold in lower as in higher latitudes. In the latitude of the Island of St. Joseph,[66]it is as cold in winter, as it is at Quebec. One of the great causes of a diversity ofclimate, beyond that which is produced by latitude, may be found [65] in the difference between land and sea air; and yet this cause may, in some cases, be so controuled by an adverse cause, as to be rendered inoperative. Upon the first idea, however, it may be warmer at the North Pole than on the Arctic Circle; indeed, in the former place, the weather may be quite moderate, even in winter. Another circumstance in support of this supposition may be adduced: it is well known that the earth itself is productive of heat. In the United States, its temperature is, perhaps, from thirty to fifty degrees. At the North Pole, the surface of the globe must be, during a part of the year, heated to a much greater degree; even allowing, as will be proper, for the difference between the capacities of land and water, to imbibe heat. At the Poles, the heat of their surface, during those months in which the sun, as to them, does not set, must be intense; and for this heat to evaporate, would require a considerable time, even during the total absence of the sun. In Russia, vegetation is so rapid, that the work of sowing and reaping is frequently accomplished in six weeks; and in the latitude of eighty, the heat in summer is so great as to melt the pitch in the seams of vessels, to such a degree as to endanger their safety.

In advancing the foregoing theories, respecting local and peculiar climate, for the purpose of throwing some light upon the unfrozen state of Lake Ontario during the winter season, I have, perhaps, taken too extensive a range; but the subject is, in its nature, inexhaustible. My concluding reflections upon this topic, will have a more particular application to it.

Some of the causes of Lake Ontario never freezing are, probably, the depth of its water, and its exposure to winds. Frost is, in its nature, heavy; and therefore shallow water gets chilled sooner, and [66] sooner freezes. As soon as thesurface of water becomes impregnated with frost, its weight presses it to the bottom, and a new supply rises to take its place. Thus, a revolution is continued, until the whole mass becomes chilled to a certain degree, and then the surface congeals. The necessary quantity of cold in the mass, to produce this effect upon the surface, is about thirty degrees. The depth of Lake Ontario is very great. Attempts to ascertain its depth have, in many places, been in vain: various parts of the centre have been sounded with a line of three hundred and fifty fathoms, without success. It must require a great degree, and a long continuance of cold, so to chill so deep a body of water, as to produce the congelation of its surface.

As to the influence of wind, it produces, as has been observed, an undulation of water, so as to prevent that regular operation of frost, which is necessary to congelation. The land on the north-east of Lake Ontario, is low; and the Lake is frequently agitated by storms.

As another supposed cause of the unfrozen state of this lake in the winter season, it may be presumed that there are beds of salt at the bottom of this body of water, which neutralize, in some measure, the elements of frost, as they descend beneath the surface. There are numerous salt springs on both sides of the Lake, and in its immediate vicinity.

Further: there is reason to believe, that there are warm springs in the bed of this lake. In the vicinity of it, on the Canada side, hunters frequently meet with spots of ground, about two or three acres in extent, the surface of which is, in the winter, entirely free from snow; and yet these spots are surrounded with snow to the depth of six or eight feet. Upon these places the snow, when it falls, instantly [67] melts, both that which falls upon the ground, and upon the trees.

I may add, that there are in several parts of N. America, particularly in the Missouri Territory, springs, the heat of which is about one hundred and fifty degrees. Such springs may exist in the bed of Lake Ontario, and if so, they would go far to prevent the influence of frost.

Whilst at Fort Niagara, several little anecdotes occurred which, perhaps, are not worth mentioning; they may, however, afford a momentary interest, and thereby reward me for exposing myself to the imputation of egotism and vanity.

When I arrived at the Fort, I was much weather-beaten; and, according to the sea-phrase, it was high time for me to put into some harbor and repair damages. Just before reaching this post, I understood that Colonel Pinkney commanded there; and notwithstanding the roughness of my appearance, I wished to become acquainted with him.

I have always thought it both proper and politic for a gentleman, in a strange place, if he makes himself known at all, to introduce himself to men of the first consideration; and after this step, to leave them to take the lead in every thing respecting their cultivation of his acquaintance. Under such circumstances, if the persons to whom he introduces himself are gentlemen, he will be treated well, and they will consider his confidence in them a compliment; but if they should not treat him with due respect and attention, he may well pride himself in his superiority, and pity their false views of true greatness.

Upon entering the Fort, I met an Irish soldier, who seemed to possess all the characteristic hospitality and friendship of his countrymen. He, by my request, very readily conducted me to the Colonel’s [68] quarters; and, no doubt taking me for a man of his own cloth, said: “in farth ye shall want for nothing hare; I can geve ye a good bade,” &c. I repeatedly thanked the honest fellow,and excused myself by saying that I should stop only an hour.

At the Colonel’s quarters, I requested his waiter to inform him, that a stranger wished for the privilege of introducing himself. The waiter, being a spruce lad of seventeen, no doubt thought much better of himself than of me: it being not easy for one in common life, and of but little experience, to perceive a gentleman under so rough a garb as was mine. The servant probably represented me to the colonel as being either an Indian, or some old hunter from the Canada shore. The first idea might well exist: as, having travelled many days in the eye of a high wind, my complexion had become very dark. But, however this may have been, the servant returned with an answer, which rather moved my yankee spirit: the colonel wished to know whether I could not inform him, through the waiter, of what I wanted. I replied, emphatically, no; and added, tell colonel Pinkney again, that a stranger wishes for theprivilegeof introducing himself.

Before the servant’s return, the Irishman had obtained a brother Pad to come and see the man in fur. After staring at me for a minute, the new-comer said—“sare, ar ye last?” I looked at him with a steady aspect, and replied, emphatically, lost?—lost? The fellow dropped his eyes and drew back, his comrade, at the same time, declaring, in true Irish lingo, “by St. Patrick, ye’d batre mind what ye’re about!—that mon has got more sanse in his latle fanger than we’ve in both of oure hades.” This unexpected compliment was no less gratifying to my vanity than contributive to my amusement.

In a moment after, the colonel’s waiter returned; [69] and, in rather a surly manner, said, “you may go in now.” I approached the parlour door, which was nearly shut; and here placing myself upon its threshold, and gently pushingthe door fully open, I made my bow—; at the same time taking off my cap, and bringing my rifle to an order. Whilst in this situation, I said, Sir, I have the misfortune to be an entire stranger to you; but I have taken the liberty to introduce myself. The colonel received and entertained me in a very liberal and polite manner; and even invited me to sojourn with him for some days. Having, however, conversed with him, upon a variety of topics, for about a half hour, I arose, told him my name, place of residence, destination, &c. and bade him farewell.

Opposite to Fort Niagara, on the Canada side of the river, is the town of Newark. It is a considerable settlement, and contains some handsome buildings. Just above this place on the same side of the Niagara, is situated Fort George.[67]From Lewistown to Lake Ontario the river Niagara may well be termed beautiful: it is about one third of a mile wide, is deep enough to float the largest ships, and its current moves silently about three miles an hour. The banks of the river present a pleasant appearance; and the Heights of Queenstown afford an interesting view of the adjacent country. The distance from Lewistown to fort Niagara is about seven miles. Above the latter are the famous five-mile meadows.[68]They are very small; butlittle objects become great when connected with great events; and, upon the same principle, little men create for themselves temples of fame, which the weight of a fly might crush.

Upon leaving the fort I proceeded back to Lewistown; and, after dark, pursued my way towards Niagara Falls. Sometimes, when not near any habitation, [70] I travelled from daylight to twelve o’clock at night. My object in taking this course, was, so to shorten the nights, as to render my situation during them more secure, and less uncomfortable. So heavy, frequently, was the travelling, that with great exertion I could not, during this period, progress more than twenty miles. During my walk from the fort, along the bank of the river, I reflected upon the battle of Queenstown, the subsequent devastations of the enemy upon this part of our inland frontier, and the impolicy of our so generally employing militia. The next day I made a minute of my ideas upon the subject, and now introduce them with some additions. I am aware, however, that in taking this step, I shall oppose a national prejudice; but I do it because, however much a man may wish for the good opinion of his fellow-citizens, he ought to regard the interests of his country more. In everything excepting in the too general employment of militia, our government has, in a greater or less degree, profited by experience. But in this particular, we seem to have been unduly influenced by our too general idea of a standing army:—an idea which at once calls forth ten thousand vague apprehensions, and condemns, without the ceremony of a hearing, every suggestion of reason. We are not children; and it is high time to put aside bug-bears. Our prejudices against standing armies are natural, and, in some respects, salutary; but in fleeing from the water, let us not run into the fire. Fact is sometimes less unpleasantthan apprehension. Are we ignorant, that we have already, always have had, and always shall have a standing army? By a standing army, I mean a force raised for a permanent purpose, and having no exclusive relation to a state of war. Such a force, under the existing disposition of man, is essential to the security of every [71] government, however peaceful may be its policy. The only question upon this subject, is,—how large our regular army ought to be? Here we are to guard against many evils, which might proceed from either extreme:—from a very large, or a very small standing army.

By a very large standing army, the counsels of the nation might be too much influenced by the private interest and feelings of military men; unpatriotic ambition might employ this force to the worst of purposes; its maintenance would be inconsistent with rational economy; and an unnecessary part of our population would, comparatively, be kept in idleness.

But, both security and true economy require, that we should have an established, permanent, and well organized force, sufficiently numerous, and ready at a moment’s warning to meet, with success, the invaders of our land; or to reduce, with promptitude, our Indian enemies. These are the first objects of such an establishment; the others are,—to furnish a national standard of military tactics; to make, in a short time, real soldiers of our militia, when a sudden necessity for a great army shall call them into actual service; and lastly, by mingling both kinds of force, to afford the militia support and confidence in the hour of battle.

As to our militia, they should be instructed for the sole purpose of enabling them more effectually to defend their own fire-sides, and of furnishing a nursery for the ranks of our regular army, whenever enlistments into themshall be necessary. Courageous as our militia are, they are not, generally speaking, an efficient force; and by employing them as a substitute for regular troops, we unnecessarily increase expence, sacrifice valuable lives, and expose at once, the safety and the reputation of the country.

[72] I have a very high opinion of the courage of my countrymen; but courage without discipline always, excepting in cases of bad conduct on the part of the enemy, results in general confusion, and individual sacrifice. By employing militia in actual service, we throw away the best and most productive part of our population. If the nation could see the dreadful aggregate of our militia, who have fallen victims to the dangers and diseases of the camp, merely because they were militia, there would be a general mourning; and the nation would forever abandon, in relation to this subject, its present policy. It is a system dictated by false ideas of economy, by a too general eulogy of our militia, and by groundless fears with respect to a regular force.

Our militia have, at times, performed wonders; but they have likewise often been the cause of defeat and disgrace.

We ought not unnecessarily to employ militia in actual service. To do so is to be careless of our population; and our population is our wealth. Great-Britain cannot support her subjects; she may well, therefore, sacrifice them in unnecessary wars. Her territory is comparatively small; whilst ours is almost unlimited. None of our citizens should be sent into the field of battle without the confidence and conduct, which discipline gives. Our militia, as I have said before, are the most valuable and productive part of our population; and they are sent into the field under the most unfavourable circumstances. Many of them have never slept a night from under their maternalroof. They have heard their fathers speak of other times, and their youthful hearts pant for the service of their country; but when the novelties of the camp, the music and the parade of military life cease to inspire them, they lose, for a time, much of their enterprise [73] and spirit. This very circumstance disposes them to disease; and this very circumstance tends to render disease fatal. They are entirely unaccustomed to the habits and employments of a camp; and their health is greatly exposed, by means of the number of troops collected, by being encamped in insalubrious situations, and by modes of living, to which they are entirely unaccustomed. In a time of peace, new recruits may be located in small numbers, in healthy situations, and the habits of the raw soldier be gradually changed.

But a militia force is not efficient. Discipline is, generally speaking, absolutely necessary to success. It produces in battle a sense of general, and in some measure of individual security. The soldier in an engagement knows, that he must take his chance, and he is willing to take it; but it is because he has a confidence in the general security of the army, that he stands his ground: for let him know that there will be a rout of his party, and he will at once become sensible of theextraordinaryrisque which he must run, and will endeavour to save himself by flight. In proportion to the discipline of an army will be the general and individual confidence of the troops. Besides, there is a great difference between individual and general courage. Individual courage is less common than is supposed. A party of men may fight pretty well in company, when, as individuals, they would, under similar circumstances, act a cowardly part; it is a sense of mutual support, which checks their fears, and furnishes them with confidence.

Where there is discipline,—where every individual feelsthat he is supported by all the rest,—this gives him confidence; and confidence is force.

Among militia the cowardice of a few will disorganize the whole; and when broken and hard pushed, [74] it is impossible for them to rally. But regular troops, when broken, can, in ordinary cases, readily form again; and, although their ranks may be thinned by the fire of the enemy, they are immediately filled, order is maintained, the army, though reduced, is still an army; and, although overpowered, they fight, not like a rabble, but like true soldiers. Their manouvres too, upon which the result of an engagement much depends, are performed promptly, and in order. Indeed, a soldier, in a well disciplined army, is a mere machine; he is a part of a perfect whole, has no will of his own, and moves only by the direction of his commanders. Had our force, at the attack upon the city of Washington, been of such a class, what a glorious defence would have been made![69]They would have planted themselves before it, and in the name of every thing dear, and sacred, and terrible, would have resisted its unprincipled invaders.

Our militia, as has been observed, sometimes perform wonders; but these are exceptions to a general rule; and exceptions are a poor ground for the establishment of a general principle. In a pell-mell contest, militia will fight with effect, because the mode of fighting is, on both sides, of the same kind. Here our militia would prevail over that of any other nation. And were our troops alwayswell disciplined, they would always, excepting in cases of accident, overcome the regular troops opposed to them. These effects would arise from the people of this country possessing more animal vigour, and more moral force than any other people.

Our militia may soon be made good soldiers, because they are intelligent, and have already received some military instruction. I speak of them in comparison with the militia of other countries. Much discipline, and the scenes and avocations of the [75] camp should be familiar to soldiers, before they are brought into the field. By teaching them their first lessons, at the point of the bayonet, immense sacrifices are made, both of reputation and of blood.

The expence too of maintaining a militia force, is much greater than that of supporting a regular army. The former must be more numerous than the latter; and, of course, their wages and provisions must amount to more.

Our military establishment should, to say the least, be sufficiently large to enable us to move, whenever necessary, a well organized, well disciplined, and efficient force against our savage neighbours. Such a kind of force is the only proper one to meet the fatigues and dangers of Indian warfare. It is time for the nation to be heart-sick of inefficient military efforts, defeat and massacre. The Indians may be conquered; but the genius of a Jackson, thousands of Tennesseeans, much time, and a vast expence should not, in this country, be requisite to overthrow a few hundred Seminoles.[70]A well organized, andwell appointed force of one thousand men could effect such an object in thirty days after leaving the proper place of rendezvous.—I say one thousand men, because a large force is more decidedly efficient than a small one. Militia, under ordinary circumstances, are put into the utmost confusion by the whoop, and yell, and onset, of Indians; and then a total butchery of them ensues. But let a regular force be employed, and order and firmness will resist the most furious, and unexpected attack; and the next moment they will march on to victory. Our celebrated fourth regiment at the battle of Tippecanoe proves this position.[71]But for them, this engagement would have resulted like those of Braddock and St. Clair.

The honour and the safety of the nation, demand [76] an ample and well organized military establishment. With the love of liberty, and every other circumstance in our favour, we have often, by only an equal force, been defeated; and this effect arose from our want of discipline. The nation must have such a force as can be depended upon:—such a force as will fear a departure from discipline more than the bayonet of the enemy. Such a force can be obtained only by offering to our best population, both officers and soldiers, such compensation and advantages as will, not only induce them to engage in the service of their country, but such as will be in themselves so fully adequate, as to render the service respectable. A considerable part of the expence of such an establishment, might be defrayed by employing the troops in making roads, and in other internal improvements. This business would keep them from idleness, inure them to labour, and renderthem acquainted with those implements, which are employed in pioneering, and in fortification.

The present administration are, no doubt, disposed to promote the respectability and safety of the nation; and the opposition have always been in favour of a considerable military and naval establishment. The experience gained by our last contest with Great-Britain cost us much; and it ought not to be forgotten. Both political parties in this country agree, that in peace we ought to be prepared for war. That I do, however, consider war between nations, seldom necessary, and a practice which places human nature upon the most humiliating ground, will fully appear when I reach, in the course of my tour, those fields of carnage which forcibly speak to the lone traveller.

The rapids of the river Niagara commence at a little distance above the celebrated falls, and terminate near the narrows opposite to Lewiston. Between [77] these two places the distance is about seven miles.

That I might have a full view of the scenery in the vicinity of the falls, I travelled, during the evening of my leaving Fort Niagara, only two miles beyond Lewistown. Early the next morning I moved on, glowing with anticipation. The lofty and rude banks of this part of the river, the deafening clamour of the falls, and the huge clouds of vapour which arose from them, inspired me with a new and indescribable emotion. The day too was dark, windy, and wild. Yet the sun shone bright;—but the darkness did not comprehend it.

Owing, perhaps, to the excitement occasioned by these circumstances, I expected too much. I confess that I was disappointed, both with respect to the height of the falls, and the quantity of water propelled over them in a given time. There is, however, in their eternal roar,a nameless solitude. For ages this roar has been ceaseless; and it seems to speak of perpetual duration.

The rapids just above the falls, excited much interest. Dark, furious, and perplexed, they rush on as though eager for destruction. Here the imagination suddenly becomes aroused, and with a sombre, yet vivid glance, surveys the opposite, and renowned plains of Chippewa and Bridgewater;[72]—then returning to the rapids, it hears, in the voice of their fury, the half-drowned vow of the warrior, and sees, in their mist, his falling steed, and brandished falchion. The trees near the falls were all prostrated by the weight of congealed vapour; and seemed to worship, most devoutly, the Great Author of this grand spectacle. A lovely, yet fearful rainbow, arched the river below; and numerous gulls, were obscurely seen sailing through the thick exhalations which filled the whole space to [78] the Canada side.—Charon and his boat only were wanted to complete the scene.

How impressive is the grand in nature! It withdraws the human mind from the trifling concerns of time, and points it to its primeval dignity, and lofty destinies.

There are three divisions of the falls; and they are occasioned by two islands situated in the river. The whole describes a crescent. One of the islands is about four hundred yards wide, and the other about ten yards. Perhaps the whole width of the islands and falls, including the curvatures of the latter, is three quarters of a mile. The height of the principal falls is about one hundred and fifty feet; and the descent of the rapids,above the largest of them, is about sixty feet. One can hardly avoid personifying this rush of water; meeting, as it does, huge rocks and trees lying in every direction, and seeking, with a wild and furious velocity, a passage to the falls. Breaking and foaming, the rapids take a thousand courses, and with a restive spirit, seek the abyss below. The obstructions of the rapids appear to dispute their passage; and the whole scene is fury, uproar and destruction. The vapour, arising from the rapids, adds to the sublimity of the scene, by the obscurity with which it clothes their tremendous concussions.

The icicles, pending from the sides of the banks contiguous to the falls, are, in the winter season, so tinged with the sulphurious particles which are mingled with their strata, as to present, when stricken by the rays of the sun, a scintillating and bluish glare.

A more particular account of the falls is deemed unimportant. I have endeavoured to give such a description as comported with my ideas and feelings, whilst in view of them. These falls are, no doubt, a great natural curiosity; and they will excite in all [79] much admiration and awe. But many of the descriptions which travellers have given of them, are erroneous in point of fact, and ridiculous in point of imagery. An English writer says, that their “noise and vapour would scarcely be equalled by the simultaneous report and smoke of a thousand cannon.” It is true, that the roar of the falls can at times be heard for thirty miles, or perhaps further; and that their exhalations have been seen at the distance of ninety miles; but these circumstances exist only under peculiar states of the atmosphere, and the causes of them produce, upon the spot, a much less comparative effect. The falls, however, are indeed tremendous; and they constitute the only visible discharge of four vast inland seas.

Tradition says, that the falls of Niagara have, for a great length of time, been receding;—that they were originally situated at the foot of the rapids near Lewistown, a distance of seven miles from their present position.[73]This idea is no doubt correct. Masses of rock must, from time to time, have been shaken from the top and sides of the falls, by the continual abrasion of the rapids. It is to be presumed, that the falls will continue to move up towards Lake Erie; lessening the waters of the upper lakes, and increasing those of the lower, in proportion as the descent of the bed of the river above the present situation of the falls may be greater, and the obstructions in it less. In the course of many centuries, the falls will, probably, reach Lake Erie itself; in which case the upper lakes may be partially drained, and Lake Ontario be overflown. It has been asserted, that this lake fills once in seven years. As to the time, this must be a whim; but there is reason to believe that the lake occasionally fills, because its sources are numerous and great, its discharge is not very ample, and high north-east winds, which frequently prevail here, retard the [80] progress of the water towards the river St. Lawrence.

I may here more particularly notice Lake Ontario. Its length is about one hundred and seventy miles, and its breadth about sixty miles. It contains a great many islands, nearly all of which are situated at the easterly end of the lake. The principal islands are Amherst, Wolf, Gage, and Howe. The land on the north-east coast of this lake is low, and in some places marshy; near Lake Champlain, however, the country is somewhat mountainous.

One of the islands in the river Niagara, of which I have spoken as contributing to a division of the falls, is called Goat Island. It belongs to Judge Porter, and contains about eighty acres.[74]Its soil is excellent, and its timber valuable. From the main land to this island a bridge has recently been built; and I understand, that a hotel is soon to be erected on the island, for the accommodation of those who may visit the falls.

The whole length of the river Niagara is about thirty-eight miles. Its width is various. From Lewistown to the falls it is very narrow, its banks high, and its bed consists of solid limestone. Above the falls the river, in some places, is three miles wide, and contains several large islands. Here its banks are low. At the ferry, about two miles from Lake Erie, the river is only about one mile wide; and near the falls it again contracts, and thereby so compresses the water as greatly to increase its velocity. The average depth of the river is from twenty-five to thirty feet. The rapidity of its current, from the ferry to within a short distance of the falls, is about six miles an hour; but just above the former its motion is much quicker. The navigation of the river, above the falls, is very dangerous.

The principal of the islands just mentioned are [81] Navy, Grand, and Buck-horn. The growth of timberupon them is principally hard wood, and their soil is of a superior quality. Grand island is fifteen miles in length.

From the falls of Niagara I proceeded to Buffalo. The distance from the former place to Black Rock, is about twenty-two miles.[75]The way to it is through a gloomy wood, between the trees of which one may occasionally see the river. Here the aspect was dreary. The snow was still very deep; the weather cold, windy and wild; the river presented a green appearance, was partially covered with masses of ice, and violently agitated by the spirit of an approaching storm. In this situation I met three Indians. We were thinking of a shelter.—We passed each other, only with a mute and sympathetic glance.

In the vicinity of the Lakes Ontario and Erie deeper snows fell, during the last winter, than had ever been known there; and the severity of the cold was without a parallel. Many people on the Lakes, and in the woods were frozen to death. A hunter, who went into the wood for an afternoon, was so frozen as to render necessary the amputation of his feet; and it was not uncommon, in the upper part of the state of New-York, to see men, in consequence of the frost, moving upon crutches.

It may be well for me here to mention some additional facts, in relation to the country through which I have passed since leaving Vermont. The face of it, from the Green Mountains to Niagara River, is rather level than mountainous; there are, however, many high and steep hills. On both sides of the Mohawk north and south, and from sixty to one hundred miles west from Albany, there are a number of considerable hills. In the vicinity of these, particularly near Scoharie, the soil is of an inferior [82] quality. West of this to Lake Ontario is anextensive level, interspersed with gradual and gentle swells. Some of the slopes are extensive, and result in spacious flats, many of which are very rich. This is particularly the case on the Genessee. The north-easterly part of the State is hilly, and even mountainous; but some portions of this section of the country, especially near Black River, is very fertile. West of the Genessee, and more decidedly so in the vicinity of Buffalo, the soil is not remarkably good; but on both sides of the river, along Lake Ontario, the land is much better. In various other parts of the state the soil is almost inexhaustibly rich; but, as is the case in all extensive tracts of country, there are here some poor lands. Generally speaking, the state is of immense force in point of agriculture; and the means of conveying it to market are ample. North and South, the Hudson, possessing a deep stream and gentle current, extends from New-York, the great maratime depo of the state, to the mountains between Lake Champlain and the St. Lawrence. From about the centre of this river, north and south, the Mohawk reaches to within a very short distance of Lake Ontario; and between Lake Champlain and Lake Erie, east and west, there are a great many small lakes and rivers, which tender their waters to the public spirit of the state. It is the object of New-York to draw to herself the trade of Vermont and the Canadas.

The western part of this state, was, during the revolution, inhabited by the Six Nations of Indians, among whom were the Mohawks, a fierce and powerful tribe. Most of these nations aided the British during this great contest; and the state, in many places, suffered much from their ravages.[76]

The land in this state is generally well timbered. The principal growth is the several kinds of oak, [83] sugar and curled maple, walnut, beech, black and white ash, birch, hickory, bass, sassafras, and several other kinds. One cannot but regret the loss of so much excellent timber, as is destroyed in our new settlements by clearing.

All the western waters are well stored with fish and fowl. Those of the former in Lake Ontario are principally white fish, and black bass; and in some of its tributary streams, there are salmon; but they are of an inferior quality. In the west too, large quantities of sugar are made from the sap of the maple; and in the woods are found bee hives containing an almost incredible quantity of honey. A kind Providence has also provided for our brethren of the west, innumerable salt springs, which produce fine white salt. This article can, in some cases, be bought at the works, at twenty cents a bushel.

The day after leaving Niagara Falls, I arrived at Black Rock, proceeded on to Buffalo, and following a creek of this name, crossed a bay of Lake Erie on the ice. I should have crossed the Niagara at Black Rock, for the purpose of viewing Fort Erie, but the wind was so high that no boat could have reached the opposite shore. This was a great disappointment to me. My heart had prepared a laurel for the warrior’s tomb.—The graves of Gibson and Wood tell us how to die for our country.[77]The privatesoldier too, humble in station, yet lofty in spirit, deserves the tribute of a tear.—I must say more in his behalf: comparatively speaking, his sufferings have been unnoticed, his gallantry unrewarded, his grave neglected. Who achieves our victories?—the private soldier. What fills the breach in the ramparts of his country?—his dead body. In eulogizing and rewarding the leaders of our armies, let us not forget the more frequent sufferings, and the equal merits of the private soldier.

[84] The battles of Chippewa, Niagara and Erie, are full of fame.

On my way to Buffalo, I passed Fort Schlosser,[78]and also a small battery at Black Rock. Here the traveller is sensibly impressed by the contrast, between the present solitary aspect of the adjacent country, and the scenes which it presented, during those military operations here, which furnish so bright a page in the records of American prowess:—then, the splendour and roar of battle!—Now, the death-sleep of the warrior, and the crimson shroud!

The distance from Black Rock to Buffalo is only two miles. The latter place was destroyed by the enemy during the last war;[79]but since then it has been rebuilt, and now contains many elegant houses. Buffalo is a considerable place for business. Its situation is central, with respect to the trade of the City of New-York, and that of the upper Lakes.

When I arrived at Buffalo, I had travelled twenty-four miles, without meeting any habitation, excepting a very few scattering log huts. Some of these were destitute of provisions; and at others of them a piece of bread, and a drink of water cost me two York shillings. Not far from this place, my dogs, knowing no law but that of nature, and having forgotten my lecture to them upon theft, helped themselves to the first repast presented, leaving their master to foot their bills. According to the phraseology of our Grand Juries, they very modestly “took, stole, and carried away” a piece of beef of the weight of three pounds, with an intention to convert the same to their own use. Hue and cry was immediately made, not by the Hundred, nor by the Posse Commitatus, but by the power of the kitchen. Notwithstanding carelessness, on the part of Mrs. Vixen, was the cause of this disastrous event; yet numerous apologies were tendered to her, and [85] her lord, for the purpose of appeasing their vindictive spirit: the thieves, at the same time, were dividing the spoil behind some neighbouring snow-bank. The value of this sacrifice to canine hunger, was of no consequence to the traveller; but in this rare instance, money could not purchase pardon; and my dogs were obliged to remain at some out-post until I renewed my march.

On Buffalo creek, which I have already mentioned and which is connected with Lake Erie, there is an Indian village inhabited by the Senecas. This tribe have a numerous settlement on the Genessee river, and several others in the north-westerly part of Pennsylvania; but their numbers are rapidly decreasing, and they are probably the most worthless tribe in North America.[80]

In leaving Buffalo, I crossed, as before stated, a Bay of Lake Erie on the ice. The distance across this Bay is about eight miles. For four and twenty hours previous to my reaching the Lake, appearances indicated a violent storm. It commenced as I passed through Buffalo, and continued until after I had crossed the Lake. Such a snow storm I had never witnessed;—indeed such a snow storm can scarcely be imagined. There was, for hours, a constant whirl of snow, without the least cessation. At noon it was night; the way could not be seen:—there was danger of perishing.

My arrival on the other side of the Bay excited much curiosity.

Lake Erie was, at this time, fast bound in ice. The whole country, excepting the evergreens, presented the aspect of perpetual congelation. The freezing of Lake Erie probably arises, in part, from its being shallow. Its greatest depth does not exceed fifty fathoms.

This Lake derives its name from the Eries, a tribe [86] of Indians once dwelling upon its borders.[81]The scenery of its banks is rather picturesque. The traveller sees many points of land extending into the Lake; much level country; and a few considerable hills. This Lake isabout three hundred miles in length, and seven hundred in circumference. Following the course of it, on the American side, the distance is full four hundred miles. The growth of timber here is, generally, similar to that east of Buffalo; but the soil is of greater fertility, and of easier cultivation. It contains too, considerable limestone; and much animal and vegetable substance. On the American side of the Lake there is an abundance of game.

The islands of the Lake are numerous. Some of them are Grose Isle, Isle Bois Blanc, St. George’s, Ship, Sandusky, Turtle, Put-in-Bay, and the Three Sisters.

In some of these islands there are subterraneous passages, which abound with petrifactions. In that called Put-in-Bay there is a considerable cave, which I shall by and by describe.

On the 26th of February I had commenced the long and solitary way, bounded on my right by Lake Erie, presenting an ocean of ice, and on my left by a vast wilderness. In looking back I remembered toils and privations, which had put my resolution to the test; and in contemplating the prospect before me, the swamps of the Sandusky and Miami forcibly presented themselves. Along the American side of the Lake, especially the lower part of it, there are many townships; some of them, however, are very inconsiderable, some are known only on paper, and between the former are large districts of country in a wilderness state. Some of the settlements are visited in the summer season by small vessels on the Lake.

[87] In travelling from Buffalo to Detroit, I marched upon the Lake about fifty miles. Sometimes I travelled near its margin, and sometimes at the distance of thirty or forty miles from it. These numerous courses were taken, to enable me to see various parts of the country, and also for the purpose of obtaining game.

The New-York line, west of Buffalo, is about forty miles from this place. The principal creeks within this line, and which are connected with Lake Erie are Eighteen Mile, Catheraugus and Silver Creek. Near to the mouth of the Catheraugus is another settlement of Seneca Indians.

The State of Pennsylvania is bounded by this Lake for the distance of about fifty miles. The land here is very good. Presque Isle, situated about twenty miles from the New-York line, is a considerable village, and will become a place of importance.[82]

Until about the first of March the weather was uninterruptedly severe; and although the country is generally infested with bears and wolves, and furnishes almost every kind of game, I had not, previous to this period, seen anything, relative to this particular, worthy of remark. All nature, fast bound in the icy arms of winter, was mute. I looked towards the Lake, but it spake not. I asked a reason of the trees, but even their branches did not whisper to me.—The traveller was the only living thing. Upon the bosom of the Lake he could see, that in the very frolic of its waves, a sudden and bitter chill had fixed in disappointment the smile of its delight.—Thus man, in the unsuspecting season of happiness, feels the deadly pressure of unrelenting sorrow.

Leaving the Pennsylvania line, I entered the celebrated Connecticut Reserve, called New Connecticut.

[88] The original charter of Old Connecticut embraced a large section of that part of the North-West Territory, which lies south of Lake Erie. In 1786 this state ceded to the general government all her territory west of Pennsylvania, excepting the tract now constituting New Connecticut.This tract is bounded North by Lake Erie, South and West by Ohio, and East by Pennsylvania. It is 120 miles long and 72 broad; making about 4,000,000 of acres. The country here is level, with occasional swells; and the soil is a rich loam and clay mixed with sand. It contains no small stones; but ledges and quarries are numerous. It abounds in various kinds of hard wood; but pine is seldom seen here. With emigrants, this tract of land is in high repute.

The principal rivers in New Connecticut is the Grand, and Cayahoga.[83]The latter enters Lake Erie about forty miles east of the river Huron. On its banks is situated a village, inhabited by the Cayuga Indians. The river is navigable for boats; and its mouth is wide and deep enough to receive considerable vessels from the Lake. The mouth of Grand River is about seventy yards wide; but there are obstructions to its navigation, particularly at its mouth.

Early in March I experienced a long storm of rain. My garments, after a while, became wet; which circumstance rendered my situation uncomfortable. I travelled, during the whole of the storm, in the belief that continual motion was necessary to preserve my health. No one can take cold in the worst of weather, during an active arterial circulation. It is in a sudden check of this impetus, that severe colds are experienced, and diseases contracted.

Having passed several small rivers, besides the Grand and Cayahoga, I arrived, on the 4th of March, at Rocky River. The weather was still rather [89] moderate, and thinking it would be dangerous to cross this stream upon the ice, I passed along its southerly side and went upon the Lake. This course was fortunate, inasmuch asit placed me in a very interesting situation. It was late in the afternoon when I reached the Lake; and it was my intention to travel upon it until the evening, and then pass into the woods. Soon after leaving the river, however, I found the banks of the Lake very high and steep. I pushed on. This tremendous ridge of perpendicular rock proved to be several miles in length. I was not aware, that it was the celebrated scene of storms, shipwrecks, and savage offerings. Night approached. The prospects around me were sublime. I was upon a glare of ice. Upon one side was a congealed ocean, apparently unlimited, and on the other a gloomy bank fifty feet in height, entirely perpendicular, and pending from which were huge icicles.—I speak within bounds: they were twenty feet in length, and as large as a hogshead. The severity of the weather had been unparalleled. It had rained,—it had frozen. The night was dark. To ascend the banks was impossible:—they seemed to be the everlasting battlements of nature! The weather was still moderating; the ice of the Lake cracking in every direction, and producing a noise like distant thunder. The solitude of my situation was profound. I was in the midst of a world, and it appeared to have been made but for one man. I walked with caution, hoping yet to meet a ravine in the banks. At length I heard, at a little distance, a sullen stream pouring its scanty waters into the hollow Lake. I paused,—was bewildered,—was lost. The stars presented a gloomy aspect, and shed an ineffectual light. My situation was truly enviable!—There is a charm in desolation; and in the season of danger, the human [90] soul triumphs in the conviction of its own indestructibility.

After being apprised of the existence of the stream, I, with much caution, moved upon my hands and kneestowards the shore, presuming that there was a valley through which the stream entered the Lake, and by which I might reach the summit of the bank. I soon affected this object, and entered the wood. I did not, however, sleep much: my imagination had become active, and I passed most of the night in weaving the web of fancy.

The adventure of the preceding evening was calculated to call forth muchenthusiasm. This, I know, is a term which alarms the ear of dullness; but the indulgence of this native quality of the heart is not inconsistent with the due influence of the understanding. What is it but an admiration of those principles of mind, and those views of nature, which may be traced to that Being in whom is the perfection of every great and good attribute? Upon a vicious, or mean object it never looks but with the eye of compassion and sorrow. I may be permitted to enlarge a little upon this subject.

Enthusiasm is the reverse of mental and moral insensibility. In the home of the heart it trims the lamp of intellect, and pants after true greatness. In mind it perceives perennial existence, and in matter only the temporary and humble dwelling place of its discipline. Immortality is the holy land of its aspirations, and disinterestedness the altar of its sacrifices. In self controul it displays its power, and the obedience of the passions is the trophy of its victories. All Nature is the temple of its worship, and in the inspiration of its hopes it finds the source of its humility. During the convulsions of the physical world, it sits in the composure of faith, and in the awe of admiration. In religion it dwells with [91] humble rapture upon the Star of Bethlehem, and gratefully acknowledges the spirit of grace. In philanthropy it sees in every man a brother, and loves to do him good. In patriotism it views, in the tombs of ancestors, the sanctity of home; andin the protection of innocence, it courts a bloody sacrifice. In love too, its happiness is productive of piety, and the tenderness of its sentiments is equalled only by the purity of its motives.

The day after leaving the Lake the weather was cold and windy. After travelling some miles in a south-westerly direction, I entered a beautiful and solitary wood. It had more the appearance of an improved forest than of a wilderness. In this wood I sat down to make some remarks in my journal. I generally stopped two or three times a day for this purpose;—sometimes sitting on a stump, sometimes under a tree, and sometimes by the side of huge masses of ice near the shores of the Lake. A record of passing scenes and events should immediately be made by the traveller. By delay, their impressions upon his mind become less legible, and thenartmust supply, in some measure, the place of nature.

The rain storm, and the moderate weather of which I have spoken, covered many places in this part of the country with water to the depth of several feet. Here low grounds and prairies made their appearance, and wading over them, through snow, and water, and ice, was both laborious and painful.

The weather having again become cold, the surface of the snow congealed to a hard crust, so that my moccasons and socks became completely worn through, and my feet much swollen. I deemed it advisable, as the remains of my moccasons and socks were no security to my feet, and at the same [92] time retarded my progress, to throw them aside and travel barefooted. From this mode of travelling I found no serious inconvenience. At length, however, my feet swelled to an alarming size; but believing that rest alone would remove the evil, and not being willing to afford myself much, I concluded to abandon them tothat possible remedy, which is incident to the crisis of disease and the influence of habit. I now travelled with even more industry than before; and in the course of a few days the swelling was entirely reduced: this experiment, however, was not very pleasant; especially, after a few hours rest.

I am confident that people, who are exposed to want both of food and clothing, and also to pain, suffer much less than is imagined; and particularly so if their minds are engaged in any interesting undertaking. Man may, by habit, render almost any situation tolerable; and I agree with Seneca, that if our sufferings are not very great we can bear them with firmness; and if they are very great we shall soon be relieved from them by death. During at least one half of the time employed in performing my tour from New-Hampshire to Detroit, I was afflicted by the tooth-ache; but notwithstanding this circumstance, and also the toils and privations which I experienced, I do not remember a moment, during this period, in which I did not possess a balance of pleasure. The solitude which surrounded me, the novelty of my situation, and the interesting prospects which frequently presented themselves, often rendered me very happy.

In the course of a day or two after adopting my new mode of travelling, I was so fortunate as to meet with several Indians, and of them I purchased a pair of deerskin shoes. Indian women often accompany the men in their hunting expeditions; and [93] one may frequently see them in the woods employed in dressing Deer and Elk skins, and in making shoes of them. They use the sinews of animals and the fibres of the inner bark of trees instead of thread.

The weather was still rather severe, and the water beneath the surface of the snow and ice exceedingly cold;my health, however, continued good; and the only difficulty with which I had to contend was a want of provisions. Sometimes I could not seasonably find game; sometimes could not meet with even an Indian cabin; and sometimes even here scarcity and want existed.

In this part of the country, although generally level, I met with several very steep hills.

Soon after passing Black River,[84]an inconsiderable stream, the weather again became more moderate; and the sun shone pleasantly. I reached a hunting ground; and here game was very plenty. Black and grey squirrels, partridges, quails, and deer were numerous. Five or six of the latter were situated not far from me in a little thicket. My garments of fur caused them to look upon me with rather an inquisitive than fearful aspect. I had never seen wild deer before, and they appeared too innocent for death. I was only half disposed to shoot them; and whilst I was musing upon this interesting group, they saw my dogs, and bounded delightfully over the hills and rivulets. My dogs voluntarily pursued them, and brought one of these guileless animals to the earth.

It is truly unpleasant to survey that lengthy, and complicated chain of destruction, which supports animal life. From the animalcula of physical nature to Behemoth himself, there is, mutually or exclusively, perpetual carnage. Man, although a compound being;—altho’ possessing a moral as well as a physical nature, is the great devourer. He revels, in [94] pride and in luxury, upon the animal world; and after feasting high, employs himself in the butchery of his own species. Such is the aberrative power incident to his free agency.

The destruction of animal life is necessary to the security,and perhaps to the health of man; but the life and comfort of animals should never be trifled with. It is the only life which they can live; their little light, once put out, is extinguished forever.

Upon leaving the hunting ground I passed Vermillion River.[85]It is inconsiderable, but abounds with fish. The weather had so moderated, that there was much danger in passing it on the ice. The soil near this river is of a very fertile quality. It is diversified with levels and gentle swells; and is covered with a valuable growth of hard wood. The sugar maple greatly abounds here, and vast quantities of sugar and molasses are produced from its sap. Here too are frequently found bee hives containing from 100 to 200 pounds of honey. Many kinds of nuts also grow here in great abundance; and the swine in the woods are very numerous. The boars sometimes become wild and fierce, and are hunted with horses and dogs.

I have observed, that the land, in the vicinity of Buffalo, is not so good as that which is east of it. The soil appears to become better and better after crossing the Pennsylvania line; and especially after reaching Vermillion River. Previous to my arrival here, however, I could, owing to the snow, judge only from the situation of the land, the growth of timber upon it, and from information occasionally obtained.

On the 8th of March I passed Huron River.[86]The weather was moderate, the snow and ice melted very fast, and I crossed a rapid freshet on logs. The traveller, after having long marched through deep snows, and after having experienced all the severities [95] of winter, sees, inthe thawing winds of spring, the hand of a watchful and kind Providence. “He casteth forth his ice like morsels; who can stand before his cold! He sendeth out his word, and melteth them; he causeth his wind to blow and the waters to flow.”

Soon after leaving this river I crossed vast prairies, all of which are rich, but some of them are too wet for cultivation. The best of these prairies are from two to three feet deep, consisting of a rich black mould, and having a pan of limestone. A team of four yoke of oxen is necessary to plough them. The most proper series of crops is, first wheat, secondly corn, and then, lying fallow, the land will produce a spontaneous growth of fine grass, which answers every necessary purpose of fodder in this part of the country. Innumerable cattle may be fed on these prairies in summer, and, generally, they may subsist here during a considerable part of the winter. An unlimited quantity of coarse hay may be cut here; growing, as it does, spontaneously, and in great abundance. By cutting it, the growth becomes less coarse, and more succulent and palatable.

Cattle in this part of the country are, in the summer season, very fat; but a great many of them die of disease, and often very suddenly. Last winter they suffered greatly from the severity of the season, and the want of fodder; and during the early part of last spring many of them were in a perishing condition.

Crops of wheat here are very good; and the best of the land produces from 40 to 60 bushels of corn an acre without manure. Indeed manure is never used here. In time, however, the natural fertility of the soil will become less; and farmers would do well, even here, to yard their cattle.

At present, provisions in this part of the country [96]command a high price. The numerous emigrations thither produce a scarcity. Along the south shore of Lake Erie the markets will, for some time to come, be very good. Depos of provisions are established here by the farmers of New-York, Pennsylvania, and Ohio; and vessels on the Lake transport them, during the spring and fall, to Detroit and other places. Although the cultivator, in the immediate vicinity of Detroit, meets with every encouragement, agriculture there is very little attended to; the consequence is, that produce to a large amount finds, from abroad, a ready market in that place.

I now consider myself in that part of the state of Ohio which lies west of the Connecticut Reserve.

Of considerable portions of the country, which are situated between the Huron and Sandusky rivers, I entertain a favourable opinion; other parts of it, however, are too swampy for cultivation. There are many fine tracts from the Pennsylvania line to the last mentioned place.

The Deer in the vicinity of the prairies, of which I have been speaking, are very large. Some of them weigh from 150 to 200 pounds. Wild turkeys too, are here numerous, and they sometimes weigh from 20 to 30 pounds. But facts like these unduly affect the imagination. These kinds of game cannot always be found; the toils of the chase are frequently unrewarded; and many who have settled in the west with lively feelings upon this topic, have abandoned this precarious source of profit.

For several days I have been employed in crossing vast prairies. The weather continued moderate, the snow, water, and mud were deep, and wading laborious. I frequently met with considerable freshets, and the banks of the creeks were overflown. Here I saw vast flocks of wild geese flying towards [97] Sandusky Bay. Their hoarse notes, proceeding from the misty air, renderedeven more solitary a trackless and almost illimitable plain of high and coarse grass. I was repeatedly lost in these prairies; and found it necessary to calculate my way by compass and maps.

Within about twenty miles of the famous Black Swamp,[87]I entered, late in the afternoon, a dark wood in a low and wet situation. The weather being moderate, I continued to travel until very late in the evening. About 12 o’clock at night my dogs contended with a herd of wolves and were both slain. The winter, until within a few days, having been very severe, the wolves, probably, were very hungry and ferocious. It is said, that in this part of the country they are very numerous and bold. From the manner in which the contest commenced, I am inclined to believe, that the wolves, having issued from their dens, had come to feast themselves. Previous to the rencounter, all was perfect silence. My dogs were near me, and without the least noise, which I could perceive, the war commenced. It was sudden and furious.

I had, for hours, been experiencing a most excruciating tooth-ache; and my sense of hearing was considerably affected by it. But when the contest began, I, for a moment, forgot my infirmities, seized my gun, encouraged my dogs, and marched forth in the most lively expectation of achieving some great victory. It being, however, very dark, the bushes being thick, and the voice of the battlebeginning to die upon my ear, a sense of my sufferings returned, and I sought repose in my tent. But I found no repose there: the whole night was employed in endeavouring to assuage with gun powder and salt, the only applications in my power, an almost insufferable tooth-ache.

[98] My dogs never returned from the strife. I had lost the faithful, and disinterested partners of my toil. I could not leave so interesting a place. For two nights and one day I remained upon the spot;—but for what, I did not know. In the listlessness of sorrow I fired my rifle into the air. At length I realized, that my dogs had fallen nobly; and the sentiments of grief found a solace in the dictates of pride.

As the fate of my dogs is interesting I may be permitted to spend a moment in their praise.

They were not, like the hounds of Sparta, dewlaped and flewed; but they possessed the acuteness of these, with the courage of the mastiff. They were very large, and accustomed to the strife of the woods. Tyger was grave and intrepid. Small game excited in him no interest; but when the breath of the foe greeted him in the breeze, he surveyed, at a glance, and with a lofty aspect the surrounding wood. Slow, steady, and firm in pursuit, he remained silent until the object of his search was found; and then, a cry more terrible than his


Back to IndexNext