CHAP. V.

Lake beneath the Owls-head Mountain.(Eastern Townships.)

SPORTING IN CANADA.

The pursuit of most kinds of game in Canada does not differ sufficiently from that of other countries to make a description worth our while. That of the bear, however, is a sort of aboriginal sport, which sometimes involves rough adventures. Mr. Talbot, in his Travels, gives the following, which seems as perilous as any we can quote:—

“One of my father’s settlers, of the name of Howay, discovered the tracks of three bears on the morning of the 11th December; and, after following them for about three miles, came to the tree in which they had taken up their quarters. Having his dog, his gun, and his axe with him, he began to cut down the tree, the trunk of which was at least 16 feet in circumference. Whilst engaged in this employment, he occasionally directed his eyes upward, to see if his motions disturbed the bears in the place of their retreat. He became at length weary of acting as sentry to the prisoners, and had nearly forgotten this needful precaution, when, in the midst of his hewing, a large piece of bark struck him on the head. This aroused his attention, and, on looking again, he discovered, to his great consternation, one of the bears descending the tree in the usual manner, tail foremost. Apprehensive that he might be attacked by his black friend, which he perceived was coming down with every appearance of hostility, he laid down his axe, and, taking up his gun, resolved to discharge its contents into the body of bruin. Upon reflection, however, he desisted; for he was afraid, if he only wounded the animal, his own life would be the forfeit of his eager temerity. While he was thus deliberating, his dog perceived the bear, then only a few yards from the ground, and, by his barking, alarmed the brute so much that he ran up the tree with inconceivable swiftness. On arriving at the opening into the trunk, he turned himself about, and, looking down attentively, surveyed the dog and his master. Howay now regretted that he had not called upon some of his neighbours to assist him; but being afraid that if he should then go for any one the party would in the mean time effect their escape, he rallied his courage, and, resuming his gun, lodged a ball in the bear’s neck, which fortunately brought him lifeless to the ground. Victory generally inspires the conqueror with fresh courage, and is seldom the forerunner of caution. The conduct of Howay, however, affords an exception to a rule so generally acknowledged; for, instead of being elated by his success, and stimulated to pursue his conquest, he reflected, that, although he had been thus far fortunate, the favourable issue was to be imputed more to casualty than to any particular exertion of his own prowess, and concluded, that if he continued to fell the tree, he might in his turn become the vanquished. He, therefore, very prudently determined to go home and bring some of his neighbours to his aid. Leaving the bear at the foot of the tree he departed, and in a short time returned with two men, three dogs, and an additional axe. They soon succeeded in cutting clown the tree, which, when falling, struck against another, and broke off about the middle, at the identical spot where the beasts lodged. Stunned and confused, the affrighted animals ran so close to one of the men, that he actually put the muzzle of his gun close to its shoulder and shot two balls through its body. The other escaped unhurt; and the dogs pursued the wounded one till he compelled them to return with their flesh badly lacerated.

Orford Lake.

“By this time the winter sun had ceased to shed his refulgent beams upon that portion of the globe, and the men deemed it imprudent to follow the tracks until the succeeding morning; when Howay, accompanied by a person of the name of Nowlan, an American by birth, and of course well acquainted with the woods, followed the tracks, having previously provided themselves with a rifle, an axe, about six charges of powder and shot, and bread and meat sufficient for their dinner. This was early in the morning of Thursday, the 12th of December. About two o’clock in the afternoon they were observed by some persons crossing the river Thames, nearly seven miles from the place at which they set off. This was the only intelligence we had of them for thirteen days. After they had been absent for some time their friends concluded that they must either have perished with hunger and cold, or have been destroyed by the wounded bear. I was strongly of opinion that they had been frozen to death, for the weather was excessively cold, and they were slightly clothed, without a tinder-box and totally unprovided with any means of shielding themselves from the inclemency of the weather. I therefore assembled a large party of the settlers pertaining to the townships of London and Nassouri, and proposed that we should stock ourselves with provisions for a few days, and go in quest of the two unfortunate hunters. To this proposal they unanimously agreed; and we set off on the following morning, provided with pocket compasses and trumpets, a good supply of ammunition, and the necessary apparatus for lighting fires, taking with us some of the best dogs in the country. In the interval between their departure and ours a partial thaw had taken place, which left not the slightest layer of snow upon the ground, except in low and swampy situations. We had, therefore, no tracks for our direction, nor any idea of the course which Howay and Nowlan had taken, except what we had obtained from the persons who saw them crossing the Thames on the day of their departure. We had no very sanguine hopes of finding them; but continued for two days to explore thousands of acres of interminable forests and desolate swamps, apparently untrodden by human foot, yet without the most distant prospect of success. We returned home, having given up all expectation of seeing them again, either living or dead. There was, however, one consideration which administered a portion of comfort to our anxiety: the objects of our search were men without families—they were strangers in America. They had no parents here to mourn over their untimely fate; no wives to lament the hour when they first met, or the moment when they last parted; and no children to deplore their early orphanage, or to call in vain for their fathers’ return. In fact, they were mourned by none but unconnected neighbours.

“Thirteen days had now elapsed since the departure of the two adventurous settlers, and all hope of their return had completely vanished. On the morning of Christmas-day, as I was in the act of sending messengers to some of Howay’s most intimate acquaintance, to request them to take an inventory of his property, I was informed that he and his companion had returned a few hours before, alive, but in a most wretched condition. When I had recovered in some measure from my surprise I went to see them, for I felt anxious to hear from themselves an account of their extraordinary preservation. Never in my life did I behold such spectacles of woe, poverty, and distress. Their emaciated countenances, wild and sunken eyes, withered limbs, and tattered garments, produced such an extraordinary effect upon my imagination, that I approached them with a degree of timidity for which I was unable to account. I sat down beside them, and for some time fancied I was holding converse with the ghosts of departed spirits; nor could I entirely banish this idea from my mind during a conversation of several hours. Their preservation appeared to me as signal an interposition of Providence as any of which I had before heard; and, since it may not prove uninteresting to you, who are unacquainted with the woods and wilds of America, I shall give you a particular account of it. I consider it the more likely to interest you, because it is none of those second-hand stories which usually, as they fly from cabin to cabin, increase prodigiously, until they swell beyond the reasonable bounds of probability, and fearfully invade those illimitable regions—

‘Where human thought, like human sight,Fails to pursue their trackless flight.’

‘Where human thought, like human sight,

Fails to pursue their trackless flight.’

“On the day of their departure, they pursued the bear, which took a north-western course for at least twenty miles, and at night stopped upon his track. With great difficulty they lit a fire, having contrived to produce a light by the application of a piece of dry linen to the pan of their gun whilst flashing it. Thus, before a good fire, they spent the first night, which was exceedingly cold, both supperless and sleepless.

“In the morning they continued the chase, as soon as they had eaten a small piece of bread, the crumbs or fragments of their dinner on the preceding day. This was equally divided between themselves and their dog. About noon, when they had travelled on the track, through all its windings and doublings, for at least twenty miles, they were unable to distinguish the north from the south, and of course considered themselves lost in the boundless immensity of interminable forests. They resolved to pursue the bear no longer, conscious that it would lead them still further into the wilderness, from whence they apprehended they could not without difficulty extricate themselves, for the snow was disappearing fast, and the rain continuing to increase. They now recollected, that, in the early part of the day, they had crossed over the track of another bear, which they fancied would lead them to the settlements. This they unwisely resolved to follow, consoling themselves with the thought, that, if it should not conduct them to the abodes of man, it might lead them to the bear’s retreat; and that if they should succeed in killing him in a spot even remote from any settlement, his flesh would afford them nourishment, and his skin a more comfortable couch than the snow-covered deserts on which they had bivouacked the preceding night. Hope, which—though it often bids desponding thoughts depart, and sometimes cheers us in the darkest hour—is too frequently the cause of our expecting where expectation is vain, and disappointment ruinous, had, in the present instance, nearly precipitated its unfortunate votaries into the vortex of irretrievable misery. They followed on the track, until the snow completely disappeared, and the sky became so dreadfully overcast, that they were compelled to relinquish all ideas of hunting, and to think only of escaping from solitude and starvation. They were by this time on the banks of a small rivulet, the course of which they resolved to pursue, expecting that it would eventually lead them to the Thames, into which they calculated, as a matter of undoubted certainty, it emptied itself. On the banks of this rivulet they passed the second night, but were not able to get any sleep. It rained incessantly, and they suffered much from their exposed situation, for they were only partially covered with a few strips of barks. The wolves howled around them, and the tempest “fiercely blew.” The trees bent their proud crests even with the ground; and many, torn up by the roots through the violence of the wind, fell to rise no more, near the very spot on which our travellers vainly sought repose.

View over Lake Memphremagog.(from the Sugar Loaf.)

“On the third day they continued their journey down the brook, which, growing wider and wider, inclined them to think it was the head of some extensive river, and they hoped it would prove to be that of the Thames. The violence of the storm began to subside about noon, but without any abatement of the cold, or cessation of the rain, which continued to fall during the whole of the day. A little before sunset they fired at a partridge, but unfortunately missed it. Three charges of powder and shot were now all that remained. Still hope, with its sustaining influence, prevented their hearts from sinking within them, and still did they expect a speedy termination of their toils and sufferings. But another joyless night found them waking in all its watches, and another sunless morning saluted them,—the victims of despair.

“On the fourth day, they felt excessively hungry and weak; their thirst also was insatiable, being compelled every five or six minutes to drink. In the afternoon, their hunger increased to such a degree, that they could have eaten any thing except human flesh. Sixty hours had now elapsed without their having tasted food of any kind, and the appalling idea of suffering by starvation for the first time obtruded itself. Before the close of the day, however, they succeeded in shooting a partridge, one-half of which they imprudently ate as their supper, and feasted on the remainder at breakfast the ensuing morning,—thus fulfilling the scriptural injunction in a sense in which it was not conveyed, “Take no thought for the morrow.” They declared their hunger was no more appeased by eating this bird, than it would have been, at a more fortunate period of their lives, by swallowing a cherry! Little more than one charge of powder was now left; and this they resolved to preserve for lighting fires, knowing, as the frost had again set in, that if they were exposed for a single night to the weather, without the protection of a fire, they must inevitably perish.

“The fifth night proved extremely cold, and Nowlan perceived, in the morning, that his feet were badly frozen. Pitiable as their situation was before this heart-rending event, it then became still more wretched. This unfortunate man had now to endure a complication of unprecedented sufferings. To the imperative hankerings of hunger, which he could not satisfy, a continual thirst, which he could not appease, a violent fever, which seemed not to abate, and the “pelting of the pitiless storm,” from which he had no shelter, there was added a species of torment the most excruciating that human nature is doomed to suffer. Until this deplorable event, they had travelled at least fifty miles a day, walking, or, as they expressed it, running from before sunrise until after sunset. They were now unable to perform more than half their accustomed journey, and even that with the utmost difficulty.

“On the afternoon of the sixth day, the sun appeared for a few moments, and convinced them that they were not on the banks of the Thames. The knowledge of this gave them much uneasiness, from a conviction which it impressed on their minds, that they were on the banks of a river which might lead them to the desolate and uninhabited shores of Lake Huron or Lake St. Claire. Still they preferred following its course, hoping to discover some Indian settlement, which they could have no expectation of finding if they departed from its margin. Immediately after the sun had disappeared they discovered a boat on the opposite side of the river, and, a little further down, a canoe. The appearance of these vessels induced them to think that a new settlement could not be far distant; but, when they had travelled several miles further, and had not met with any other traces of inhabitants, they concluded that the vessels had been driven down the river by the ice during the late thaw, and had been stopped at the point where they were first noticed. They were just about to cut down some timber for the night, when they observed a stack of hay a few perches before them, and on their side of the river. The hay appeared to have been mowed on the flats, or shallows, where it grows spontaneously beneath the gloomy shades of the overhanging forest. This circumstance, when coupled with their recent discovery of the boat and canoe, convinced them that they were in the immediate neighbourhood of some settlement. The hay-stack afforded them a comfortable asylum for the night, and appeared to them the most enviable bed on which they had ever reclined.

“On the morning of the seventh day, they rose much refreshed, having enjoyed, for the first time since they left home, a few hours of sound sleep. They were confirmed afresh, by the incident of the stack, in their resolution to keep close to the river, being elated with the idea that it would certainly lead them to some inhabited place. But their dog, the faithful companion of their dangers and partaker in their sufferings, was that morning unable to proceed any farther. When he attempted to follow them, he staggered a few paces, and then fell, but had not power to rise again. The hunger of the men had by this time increased to such a degree, that they could have eaten the most loathsome food; yet they desisted from killing the dog;—they left him to die a lingering death rather than imbrue their hands in the blood of a fellow-sufferer. Scarcely had they proceeded a mile beyond the hay-stack, when they were intercepted by an impassable swamp, which compelled them to leave the direction of the river. Difficulties seemed to surround them on every hand, and success appeared to smile on them for a moment but to add to their other sufferings the pangs of blighted hope and bitter disappointment. They were compelled to wander once more into the pathless desert, with very faint expectations of regaining the river.

“They walked a considerable distance on the eighth day; and at four o’clock on the ninth discerned the tracks of two men and a dog. They now imagined the long-wished for settlement at hand. With renewed spirit and alacrity, therefore, they pushed onward, indulging by the way the pleasing reflection, that the issue of the newly-discovered track would ere long terminate their woes, and bring them to enjoy once more the unspeakable pleasure of human society. Judge, then, what must have been their feelings, when, towards evening, they were brought to the very spot on which they had lain five nights before! Hope now no longer shed her delusive rays into their hearts; and they neither had a thought, nor felt a desire, to prolong a miserable existence. They sat down, therefore, without making a fire, and formed a resolution that night to end both their miseries and their lives. The tears trickled down their haggard cheeks, as they gazed upon each other’s altered countenance; and the chief dread which both felt was, that the one should die before his companion, and leave the survivor to expire unpitied and unseen. Another reflection added poignancy to their sufferings; and that was, the idea of being devoured, after death, by the ravenous monsters of the wilderness. Howay, however, with some degree of fortitude endeavoured to compose himself, trusting that, ’though, after his skin, wolves should destroy his mortal body, yet in his flesh should he see God; whom he should see for himself, and his eyes should behold, and not another.’ But Nowlan, though sixty-four winters had furrowed his cheeks, had very little notion of a future state,—his perishable body alone engrossed his attention. Educated, or rather reared, in this land of impiety and infidelity, his ideas of the Deity and of his attributes were little calculated to elevate his views from the miseries of this world to the felicities of another and a better. He had scarcely ever heard the sound of the gospel, and knew nothing of its offers of mercy. In this world he had no longer any interest; and about the eternal concerns of the next he was wholly ignorant, and seemed utterly unconcerned. How deplorable the situation of such a being! Better for him had he never been born! With bright and well-founded prospects of a blissful immortality, a man may rejoice in the midst of tribulations, if possible still more acute; but, without these powerful consolations in a dying hour, he must sink in despair beneath the accumulated weight of misery and remorse.

“After indulging in the gloomiest reflections for nearly an hour,—during which time they both declared, that if a tree had then been in the act of falling on them, they would not have made any exertion to escape from its destructive stroke,—they began to look upon it as their duty to employ the means which Providence had placed within their reach for the preservation of that life which He who gave possessed the sole right of taking away; and they resolved once more to light a fire. This with the utmost difficulty they accomplished, for they were so much debilitated as to be scarcely able to exert themselves in collecting a sufficient quantity of fuel. As they consumed the last grain of their powder in this operation, they became susceptible but of one emotion,—that of indescribable horror, at the idea of being compelled, ere another night should elapse, to pay the debt of nature in a manner the most abhorrent to their feelings. They now conversed freely, but in a melancholy strain, on the method in which it was most likely that the frost would accomplish their destruction; and agreed in the opinion, that it would first attack the extremities of their bodies, and gradually proceed up towards the vitals, until their hearts’-blood should become congealed to ice. After this discourse they lay down, almost unmindful of the past and careless about the future, endeavouring to resign themselves to the fate which awaited them, whatever that might be.

“On the morning of the ninth day of their deplorable wanderings, they arose in a state of perfect apathy, and began to traverse the same lands which they had so reluctantly trodden six days before. In the evening they arrived at the hay-stack, where they left the dog. They found him still living, but unable to get upon his feet. He was reduced to a mere skeleton, and appeared to be in the agonies of death. The desire of life once more took its seat in their hearts, and they resolved to seek diligently for some sort of food. Their appetites were now so unconquerably ravenous, that they stripped the bark off an elm tree, and devoured large quantities of its inner rind. Scarcely had they eaten it, however, when they became exceedingly delirious, and were forced to lie down among the hay, where they remained until morning in an agony of despair.

By daylight, on the tenth morning, they were much better, and would have arisen, but, recollecting that they now possessed no materials for lighting a fire, they resolved to roll themselves up in the hay again, and quietly await the hour of dissolution, whenever it should arrive. Their resolution had but just been formed, when they heard the joyful sound of a cow-bell, which seemed to proceed from the opposite shore of the river. They arose immediately, and, on looking over the water, perceived to their infinite satisfaction a log-house recently erected, but yet without any appearance of inhabitants. For some time they felt inclined to doubt the evidence of their senses, and to consider the log-house as a creature of their disturbed imaginations. They recollected passing that way before without observing any building; but, on calling to mind the circumstance of seeing the boat and the canoe, they were convinced that all was reality—delightful, heart-cheering reality! They, therefore, resolved, by some means or other, to ford the river; and walking with feeble steps but bounding hearts along the bank, they soon discovered a crossing place. On arriving at the opposite shore, they were met by a white man and two Indians, who took them to the house of one Townsend, with whom they were well acquainted, and from whom they experienced every mark of attention which their wretched condition required. The heart of sensibility, if conversant with affliction, may form some estimate of their feelings at that moment. Every tender emotion, of which the soul of unlettered man is susceptible, may be supposed to have been in full exercise at that exhilarating interview. And if a single feeling had then any marked preponderance over another, it must have been that of gratitude—boundless, unspeakable gratitude, to the protecting power of an Almighty and gracious Deliverer.

“A few months previous to this event, Townsend had discovered a salt-spring on the banks of the river Sauble, and was at this time preparing to commence a manufactory of that article at a distance of nearly twenty miles from any human habitation. This embryo salt-manufactory was the building which Howay and Nowlan discovered after they heard the ringing of the cow-bell. It was a fortunate circumstance for them; for if this spot had been uninhabited, as it was a short time before, they must unquestionably have breathed their last on the banks of that unexplored river, which flows into Lake Huron at a point which is nearly 100 miles from any settlement. They were only thirty miles from the lake when interrupted by the swamp, in avoiding which they had inadvertently wandered back into the woods; and, on discovering their own tracks, returned unconsciously to the place where they had lain five nights before—a catastrophe, which, at the time, they lamented as a dire misfortune, but which afterwards, as you have seen, was the cause of their final deliverance.

“At Townsend’s house they were fifty miles from home, every yard of which they had to travel through the wilderness, but not without the aid of a blazed line to direct them. Nowlan’s feet were by this time in a very bad condition; and as he could not procure at that lonely dwelling the materials necessary to prevent mortification, which he was apprehensive would very soon take place, he and his companion set off early on the following morning. Mrs. Townsend kindly furnished them with provisions, and every thing necessary for their journey; and on the eve of the thirteenth day after their departure from the Talbot Settlement, they had once more the happiness of enjoying the comforts of their own firesides.—So much for the enviable pleasures of the American bear-chase!”

We add to this interesting account a few remarks on bears from a clever writer on Natural History.

“There are probably three or four different kinds of bears in North America; but neither the grizzly bear, the barren-ground bear, nor the great polar species, infest the countries with which we are more immediately occupied, although the last-named occasionally travels as far southward on the coast of Labrador as the fifty-fifth parallel. However, the black bear (Ursus niger Americanus) is well known in Canada, and is found wherever wooded districts occur, northwards to the shores of the Arctic Sea, southwards as far as Carolina, and westward across the continent to the shores of the Pacific Ocean. Although this species is the least carnivorous of its kind, yet Dr. Richardson informs us that its strength and agility, combined with its great tenacity of life, render an attack upon it very hazardous, and its pursuit has always been considered by the rude inhabitants of the northern regions as a matter of the highest importance. They previously propitiate the whole race of bears by sundry ceremonies, and when an individual is slain they treat it with the utmost respect, address it as a near relation, and offer it a pipe to smoke. This veneration has no doubt arisen from their admiration of the skill and pertinacity with which bruin defends himself, and it is both curious and interesting to observe how the same feeling is exhibited by various tribes of people, speaking different languages, and inhabiting separate countries. We know from Regnard that the chase of the bear is regarded by the Laplanders as among the most solemn actions of their life; and Leems tells us that they never address that animal familiarly by its proper name ofGuourhja, but call it “the old man in the fur cloak,” because it has the strength of ten men, and the sense of twelve. Bear-dances, in which its movements are imitated, are well known among the recreations of the North American Indians. Alexander Henry, who travelled in Canada and the adjoining territories in the years 1760-76, has furnished us with some valuable and curious remarks regarding the black bear of the New World. While on the banks of Lake Michigan, in the month of January, he observed the trunk of an enormous pine tree much torn, as if by the claws of one ascending and descending. He next noticed a large opening in the upper portion, near which the smaller branches were broken off. It was agreed that all his retainers should assemble together next morning, to assist in cutting down the tree, as from the absence of tracks upon the surrounding snow, it was presumed that a bear had for some time lain concealed within. The tree measured eighteen feet in circumference. Their axes being very light, they toiled all day, both men and women, like beavers, till the sun went down, by which time they had got only about half way through the trunk. They renewed the attack next morning, and about two in the afternoon the monarch of the wood reeled and fell. For several minutes after the first crash every thing remained quiescent, and it was feared their labour had been in vain; but just as Mr. Henry advanced towards the opening, out came an enormous bear, which he immediately shot. No sooner was the monster dead than his assailants approached, and all took the head in their hands, stroking and kissing it repeatedly, begging its pardon a thousand times, calling it their relation and grandmother, and requesting it to lay no blame on them since it was truly an Englishman who had put it to death. “If,” adds Mr. Henry, “it was I that killed their grandmother, they were not themselves behind hand in what remained to be performed.” The skin was taken off, and the fat found to be in several places six inches deep. When divided into two parts it formed a load for two persons, and the fleshy portions were as much as four men could carry. In all, the carcass must have exceeded 500 pounds weight. As soon as they had reached the lodge, the head was adorned with various trinkets, and laid upon a scaffold, with a large quantity of tobacco near the nose; and sundry other ceremonies were gone through in the course of the ensuing morning, after which they made a feast of the flesh. According to this author it is only the female bear that makes her lodging in the upper parts of trees,—an instinctive practice, by which her future young are secured from the attacks of wolves and other carnivorous animals. She brings forth in the winter season, and remains in her lodge till the cubs have acquired some strength. The male is said always to lodge in the ground, under the roots of trees.

In the latitude of 65° the winter sleep of the bear continues from the beginning of October to the first or second week of May; but on the northern shore of Lake Huron, the period is shorter by two or three months. In very severe winters, numbers of them have been observed entering the United States from the northward, all extremely lean, and accompanied by scarcely any females. Now it is well known that bears never retire to their winter dens until they have acquired a thick coating of fat, and that in remote districts they couple in September, when in good condition from feeding on the wild berries, which are at that time mature and abundant. The females then retire at once to their holes, concealing themselves so carefully that even “the lyncean eye of an Indian hunter very rarely detects them;” but the males, exhausted by the pursuit of their mates, require ten or twelve days to recover their lost fat. “An unusually early winter will, it is evident, operate most severely on the males, by preventing them from fattening a second time; hence their migrations at such times to more southerly districts.” It is an error, however, to suppose, as many do, that the black bears generally abandon the northern districts on the approach of winter, the quantity of skins, as Dr. Richardson observes, which are procured during that season in all parts of the fur countries being a sufficient proof to the contrary. The females bring forth about the beginning of January, and are supposed to carry for about fifteen or sixteen weeks. The number of cubs varies from one to five, according to the age of the mother, who begins to bear long before she has attained her full dimensions.

IMPRESSIONS OF CANADA, NIAGARA, THE ST. LAWRENCE, ETC. UPON EMIGRANT

SETTLERS.

The Falls of Niagara impress travellers very differently. Most persons, having heard of this wonder of the world from their childhood, have aggrandized their imagination of its appearance in proportion with the growth of their minds, and visit Niagara, at last, with the expectation of seeing an ocean poured from the height of the clouds. A very graphic and sketchy account of past impressions at the Falls is given by a traveller, whose book is less known than it deserves; and we quote from him, quite sure that his description will be new to the reader. “I first visited these celebrated Falls,” he says, “in the month of September—a season of the year which, in America, is peculiarly pleasant. The violent heats have then considerably abated; the musquito, satiated with human blood, has given rest to his proboscis; and man, free from the irritating bite of innumerable tormenting insects, and from the scorching heat of an almost insupportable sun, enjoys an agreeable respite, and ranges through the country in quiet and comfort. Until I arrived within a mile of the Falls, the sky was perfectly clear, the sun shone with his wonted splendour, and the atmosphere was remarkably dry and uncommonly lucid. But no sooner had I approached their immediate vicinity, than a sudden and singular change took place in the whole aspect of nature. The earth, before parched and immovable, became damp and tremulous; and the sky, till then unsullied by a single cloud, assumed a frowning, dark, and portentous appearance. The atmosphere, previously dry and rarefied, now presented a dense and humid visage; and my fancy, unreined by my reason transported me into a world essentially different from that in which, a few minutes before, I ‘lived, and moved, and had my being.’

“Still, however, I pursued my course, and at length gained the summit of the craggy hills which flank this noble river. My increased elevation did not contribute to dissipate the preconceived delusion, and I still felt inclined to doubt of my own or the world’s identity. Mountains of water, belching forth the most appalling sounds—globes of foam, boiling with rage—rainbows, embracing within their numerous and splendid arches a surprising variety of newly-formed impending clouds—rocks, boldly projecting over the tumultuous abyss—and spray-covered forests, decorated with pearly drops, now rendered more brilliant than crystal by the reflected rays of the setting sun, and now blown into feathery streams by sudden gusts of the impetuous wind;—these were some of the most striking features of the gorgeous scenery by which I was surrounded. Long did I luxuriate in pleasing contemplation, admiring its peculiar grandeur; and still did I find myself lingering amidst these stupendous and matchless displays of creative excellence, until the sun, wearied with shedding his beams on the transatlantic wilds, had retired, in all his glory, ‘to rove o’r other lands, and give to other men the kindest boon of heaven.’

“For the first time of my life did I regret the shortness of a September day. But my regret soon ceased; for ere night had completely drawn her sable mantle across the objects of my admiration, over which I still lingered, a glorious moon, enshrouded in golden robes, kindly lent me the aid of her beauteous lustre, and quickly diffused through every part of the landscape new features of loveliness, giving it a character far more soft and interesting than that with which proud day had invested it. The stupendous and magnificent machinery of nature, which had recently bound me in abstraction, was now divested of many of its peculiar charms. A perfect calm succeeded. The forests appeared sunk in deep repose. The winds had subsided. The green leaves, no longer agitated by the breeze, ceased their rustling. Not a cloud floated along the face of heaven. Every thing around and above seemed to have found

‘Tir’d nature’s sweet restorer, balmy sleep.’

All was still, except the wakeful cataracts that roared with their wonted violence, and disturbed the basin which groaned beneath the undiminished burden. Never was there a finer contrast than that between the noise of the water and the stillness of the air; the golden effulgence of the rushing flood, and the impenetrable shades of the surrounding forests; the blackness of the frightful gulf, down which the waves, with unabating force, are precipitated in crashing confusion, and the light and cheering face of the spangled heavens, over which the crescent moon was sailing with modest pride and conscious dignity.

“Sick and insensible must be the soul that could behold with indifference an exhibition so fine, so varied, so replete with all that is calculated to please the eye, to arouse the mind, and, in a word, to raise the whole man above the vulgar level of existence, and make him sensible, that while he thus contrasts the piccuresque scenery of the earth with the inimitable grandeur of the heavens, he is standing, as it were, in the immediate presence of that Deity who ‘measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, and meted out the heavens with a span’—to whom he is indebted for all he sees, and all he feels—by whose almighty power and wisdom the rivers had their appointed sources and obtained leave to flow, and from whose hands the mountains first received their appropriate bulk and due conformation.

“I cannot convey to you any idea of the poverty of language that is felt when one attempts to describe such a combination of grand and uncommon objects, among which is found every thing essential to constitute the romantic, the terrific, the picturesque, and the sublime. All that is awfully grand here occupies a prominent station; and every part is so tastefully arranged as to make the deepest impression upon beholders, and to proclaim, in language not less loud than the ‘music of the spheres,’

The hand that made us is divine.

“The country in which Lake Erie lies is elevated nearly 300 feet above that which surrounds Ontario. The extensive slope, or mountain, as it is called, which divides the lower country from the upper, is, in many places, nearly perpendicular. It commences on the northern side of Lake Ontario, and runs thence round its north-western point, until it is intersected by the road which leads from York to Amherstburgh. It afterwards pursues an eastern direction, and finally embanks the strait or river of Niagara.

“Persons who visit the Falls generally stop at an adjacent village—(this account was written some twelve or fifteen years ago),—consisting of about a dozen houses, and two very excellent hotels, in which as good accommodation may be found as in any other part of the country. From the balcony of that which is styled the ‘Niagara Falls’ Pavilion,’ there is a very fine view of the Horse-shoe Fall, and of the island which bisects the river. From the same house there is a difficult foot-path, which leads down a very steep bank to the edge of the river, immediately adjoining the place where the Table Rock formerly stood. It must also be recollected that the river issues from Lake Erie about twenty miles above the Falls, and, until it arrives within three miles of them, runs with a smooth current and an undisturbed surface. The bed of the stream then becomes rocky; and the water is so violently agitated by passing down successive rapids, that a person of the strongest nerves, standing on the shore, cannot without difficulty refrain from shuddering at the sight.

“Notwithstanding the rapidity of the current, its violence is displayed only on each side of the river, the middle remaining sufficiently smooth to admit of boats passing down to the island that separates the river into two branches, before the waters are dashed down the precipice which forms the Fall. As the current approaches this island, it seems to run with redoubled velocity. It is impossible to conceive any thing equal to the force and swiftness of its progress to the ledge of rocks, over which it is propelled, till it impetuously tumbles into the bed of the river beneath, with a noise louder than thunder. When the waters fall into the deep basin, they rebound into the air in immense spherical figures, white as snow and sparkling as diamonds. These figures, after rising, and, apparently, remaining stationary for a moment, explode at the top, and emit columns of spray to an astonishing height. They then subside, and are succeeded by others, which appear and disappear in the same manner.

“From that part of the Table Rock which yet remains, and the path to which I have already described, the spectator commands one of the grandest and most romantic views in nature. The tremendous rapids above the Falls—Goat Island in their midst, covered with trees, which seem at every moment about to be swept away—the Horse-shoe Fall, immediately below Table Rock—Fort Schlosser Fall, beyond Goat Island, and the frightful gulf beneath, boiling with perpetual rage, and shooting upwards immense volumes of sparkling foam, smoking with the apparent intensity of heat, are a few of the great objects which are forced upon his attention.

“Another place from which the Falls assume, if possible, a more striking and awful appearance, is at the bottom of the cataract. The precipice leading to this spot is descended by means of a ladder, commonly called ‘the Indian ladder’—a piece of mechanism simply consisting of a cedar-tree, the boughs of which are lopped off at a sufficient distance from the trunk to make them answer all the purposes of irregular steps. After descending this ladder, the perpendicular height of which is upwards of sixty feet, you proceed along the edge of the river, which is covered with broken rocks, the wrecks of boats, and otherexuviæ, until you arrive at the bottom of the Horse-shoe Fall. From this place visitors frequently proceed on foot several hundred yards, within a prodigious sheet of caverned water, which is formed by the overshooting of the cataract. But they must be men of the firmest nerve who venture on such a daring enterprise; for the most undaunted resolution is in danger of being shaken on looking upward at the impending rock, which continually seems to bend and groan beneath the rolling flood, to which it serves as a fearful support. From the projecting edge of this rock, the mass of waters is impelled forward, and leaves a large and smooth expanse, which reaches from the natural sheet of falling water to the very base of the gradually undermined mountain. If the atmosphere be dense, it is still more dangerous to engage in the bold attempt of exploring the stable foundations of the river; for people at such times not unfrequently lose the power of respiration in proceeding far beneath the rocky ceiling. Notwithstanding this and various other dangers, to which all are equally exposed who venture to approach the Fall in boats, the fisherman frequently continues there for hours together, apparently without any apprehension of danger.

“The whole breadth of the precipice or Falls, including the islands which intervene, is 1,335 yards. The greatest body of water falls on the Canadian side of the river; and on account of the form assumed by the waters before they are dashed from the top of the rocks, it is designated the Horse-shoe Fall. It extends from the shore to the intermediate island, a distance of 600 yards. Fort Schlosser Fall, which is on the American side, presents a sheet of water 350 yards in breadth; and the Little Fall extends across a ledge of rocks for upwards of 140 yards. The quantity of water which pours over all three, in every minute, is estimated at 169,344,000 gallons.

“Many stories are told of the melancholy fate of persons who at various times have been carried down the rapids, in attempting to cross the river above; but I believe the only well-authenticated anecdote of this kind is that of an Indian, who, having become intoxicated with liquor, made his canoe fast to a rock, a few miles above the Falls, and fell asleep. By some unknown accident, the canoe was loosed from its moorings, and immediately floated down the current. While the surface of the water continued to be smooth, the slumbers of the unconscious savage were undisturbed; but when his frail bark entered on the rapids, and became agitated by the turbulent eddies, he suddenly awoke. On perceiving his perilous situation, and recovering a little from his first astonishment, he laid hold upon his paddle, and used the most violent exertions to escape from the impending destruction. When his repeated failures to avert the swift course of the vessel had convinced him that all endeavours on his part would be unavailing, he laid aside his paddle, composedly rolled himself up in his blanket, and putting the whiskey bottle for the last time to his lips, quietly lay down, as if all danger were over. In a few moments he and his bark were precipitated down the Falls; and no one ever saw trace again of the Indian or his canoe.

“In the summer of 1822, a similar accident befel two unfortunate white men. It appears that, for some time past, a part of Goat Island, which separates the Falls, has been inhabited, and under cultivation. Some of the residents, who were on the point of quitting their perilous abode, were engaged in conveying their movable effects to the Canada shore. The day was exceedingly boisterous, and the current of the river consequently more violent than usual. Four men, with two boats, were engaged in taking away the furniture; and when the first trip had been accomplished, two of them, being apprehensive of danger from the fury with which the wind blew in the direction of the stream, resolved to venture no more until the storm should abate. They communicated this determination to their companions, who, laughing them to scorn, boasted largely of their own freedom from fear, and returned to their hazardous employment. But in a few minutes afterwards, they were carried down the cataract, and dashed to pieces. A day or two after this event, a table which had been in the same boat, was discovered in the river at the foot of the Falls, uninjured.

“The noise of the Falls is said to be heard, on a calm evening, as far as Burlington Heights, a distance of nearly fifty miles. But when this is true, the wind, which is an excellent transmitter of sound, must blow exactly in that direction. The waters make a report which might be heard at a much greater distance, if, instead of falling into a profound gulf, surrounded on every side with hills of at least 350 feet perpendicular height, which confine the sound, they fell upon a horizontal plain of sufficient altitude to allow the sound to pass without interruption into the circumjacent country. As an illustration:—If a stone were let fall from the surface of the earth into a well 100 feet deep, the noise would not be distinctly heard by a person standing twenty yards from its mouth; but if the same stone were dropped from the apex of a steeple of only half that height, into a cistern of water, the surface of which was on a level with the earth, the noise, occasioned by its splashing in the water, would be distinctly heard at above five times the former distance.

“Previous to the settlement of the country along the banks of the Niagara river, great numbers of wild beasts, birds, and fishes might be seen dashed to pieces on the shore near the bottom of the Falls. But since this part of the country has been thickly settled, scarcely any thing is to be found in the bed of the river below the Falls, except fishes and a few water fowl, which, on alighting in the rapids, are unable to take wing again, and are soon hurried down the dreadful abyss.

“It is generally supposed that the Falls were once as far down as Queenston, and the supposition seems plausible. The appearance of the banks on each side of the river affords very strong presumptive evidence in favour of this notion; and the fact of the constant recession of the Falls, observed by the people who reside in their vicinity, is no less confirmatory. That seven miles of limestone strata of such great depth should be worn away by nothing but water, will appear too preposterous for belief, by those who have never stooped to the drudgery of calculation; but if only the fiftieth part of a barleycorn had been worn away in every hour since the creation, supposing the Falls to have been then at Queenston, or a little above it, they would now be within a few perches of their present position. These calculations receive an air of great plausibility, at least, from the rugged features of the banks between the Falls and Queenston, which afford numerous and strong indications of the violence to which the strata have there been subjected.”

The writer from whom the foregoing account of Niagara is quoted, went out with his father and a few labourers to settle in Canada. His voyage up the St. Lawrence is very descriptive of the scenery and adventures which fell to the lot of all travellers on the same errand at that time, and may be useful as well as interesting here. He says:—“I embarked at La Chine with my father and his settlers, twenty days after our arrival in Quebec. On account of the shallows immediately below this village, goods and passengers intended for a higher destination up the river are conveyed by land from Montreal. Previous to our leaving La Chine, thirty-one of the settlers, dreading, the expense of transporting their families to the Upper Province, separated from us and accepted of a settlement at or near Perth, about 140 miles north-west of Montreal. Owing to the rapidity of the St. Lawrence immediately above Montreal, ship navigation terminates at that city. Such is the vehemence of the current in various places, that it is totally impossible to ascend the river in vessels of ordinary construction. Batteaux, or flat-bottomed boats, narrow at bow and stern, and made of pine boards, have been found much better adapted to the river than any others. These boats are about forty feet long, and six across the centre, and are navigated by four men and a pilot. Each boat carries about five tons, and is provided with a small mast and sails, six setting poles about nine feet long, shod at their lower extremities with iron, which terminates in a sharp point, and the necessary cooking apparatus. In these boats, all the merchandise destined for Upper Canada is conveyed; and, fitted out in this style, they depart from La Chine, four or five of them generally forming one party. They quickly arrive in Lake St. Louis, which is formed by the junction of the Ottawa, or Grand River, with the St Lawrence. If the wind happen to blow favourably when they are passing through this lake, they haul up their sails until they arrive at the Cascades, which are about thirty miles from Montreal.

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