SONNET TO THE MUSKOKA PINES!Weird monarchs of the forest! ye who keepYour solemn watch betwixt the earth and sky;I hear sad murmurs through your branches creep.I hear the night-wind’s soft and whispering sigh,Warning ye that the spoiler’s hand is nigh:The surging wave of human life draws near!The woodman’s axe, piercing the leafy glade,Awakes the forest-echoes far and near,And startles in its haunts the timid deer,Who seeks in haste some far-off friendly shade!Nor drop ye stately Pines to earth alone.The leafy train who shar’d your regal state—Beech, Maple, Balsam, Spruce and Birch—lie prone,And having grac’d your grandeur—share your fate!
SONNET TO THE MUSKOKA PINES!Weird monarchs of the forest! ye who keepYour solemn watch betwixt the earth and sky;I hear sad murmurs through your branches creep.I hear the night-wind’s soft and whispering sigh,Warning ye that the spoiler’s hand is nigh:The surging wave of human life draws near!The woodman’s axe, piercing the leafy glade,Awakes the forest-echoes far and near,And startles in its haunts the timid deer,Who seeks in haste some far-off friendly shade!Nor drop ye stately Pines to earth alone.The leafy train who shar’d your regal state—Beech, Maple, Balsam, Spruce and Birch—lie prone,And having grac’d your grandeur—share your fate!
SONNET TO THE MUSKOKA PINES!
Weird monarchs of the forest! ye who keep
Your solemn watch betwixt the earth and sky;
I hear sad murmurs through your branches creep.
I hear the night-wind’s soft and whispering sigh,
Warning ye that the spoiler’s hand is nigh:
The surging wave of human life draws near!
The woodman’s axe, piercing the leafy glade,
Awakes the forest-echoes far and near,
And startles in its haunts the timid deer,
Who seeks in haste some far-off friendly shade!
Nor drop ye stately Pines to earth alone.
The leafy train who shar’d your regal state—
Beech, Maple, Balsam, Spruce and Birch—lie prone,
And having grac’d your grandeur—share your fate!
New-Year’s Day of 1872 was one of those exceptionally beautiful days, when hope is generated in the saddest heart, and when the most pressing cares and anxieties retire for at least a time into the background of our lives. The sky was blue and clear, the sun bright, and the air quite soft and balmy for the time of year. We had had some bitter cold and gloomy weather, and we found the change most delightful. As in France we were in the habit of making presents among ourselves on this day, I looked over all my stores with aview to keeping up the same pretty custom here; but alas! in the absence of all shops I was sorely puzzled. At last I made all right by giving pencils and paper for scribbling to the children; Eau de Cologne, sweet-scented soap, and pots of pomatum to the elders of the party; and finished off with a box of Bryant and May’s “ruby matches” to C. W., who considered them a great acquisition. Your brother E. came over for the whole day. He now boarded and lodged with C——s, to make a little more room for your sister F.’s confinement, which we expected at the end of the month. I watched E. with delight as he felled an enormous birch tree in honour of the day; but though placed in perfect safety myself, I could not avoid a thrill of fear for him, as this monarch of the forest came crashing down. Fatal accidents very seldom occur, but new settlers, inexperienced and unused to the axe, sometimesgive themselves serious cuts. Your brother and brother-in-law have had many narrow escapes, but fortunately, as yet, are uninjured. Your brother C——s before we came gave himself a very severe cut, which prevented his chopping for some weeks. One of the settlers told your brother that when he first began chopping he had given himself a most dangerous wound, the axe having glanced from the tree on to his foot; for weeks after the accident he stood in a washing-tub for security while chopping his fire-wood. This account much amused us, and E——d made a neat little caricature of P. in his tub chopping.
I was greatly disappointed in the Canadian forest, and did not think it half as beautiful as I had been led to expect, for though there are certainly some very tall pines, and these of a considerable girth, yet being so closely packed together and hemmed in with small trees and a thick undergrowth of brushwood,they always seem cramped, and their lofty tops unable to spread out to their full size. Hurricanes here are of frequent occurrence, and at these times it is not unusual for full half an acre of trees to be entirely laid flat, giving the greatest trouble to the settler when he wants to clear. At times the “windfall,” as it is called, is a narrow belt of uprooted trees extending for miles, and distinctly marking the path of the hurricane through the forest. I was less astonished at the constant fall of the trees after examining an enormous pine lying on C——s’ land, which was blown down last year. The roots of this tree seemed to have formed an enormous web or network under the surface of the ground, and only a few large fibres here and there appeared to have gone to any depth. I missed the umbrageous oaks, elms, and beeches of our own parks, and also the open forest glades which so greatly enhancethe beauty of our woodland scenery. I am told that the trees in the States are much larger and finer, but of this I am of course incompetent to judge, never having been there. The most beautiful tree here is certainly the “balsam,” a slender, delicate tree whose feathery branches droop gracefully to within a few feet of the ground.
We found the winter fearfully cold, the thermometer being at times forty degrees below zero. We had great difficulty in keeping ourselves sufficiently clothed for such a season. All people coming to the Bush bring clothes far too good for the rough life they lead there. In coming out we had no means of providing any special outfit, and therefore brought with us only the ordinary wardrobes of genteel life. We soon found that all silks, delicate shawls, laces and ornaments, are perfectly useless here. Every article we possess of that kind is carefully putaway in our trunks, and will probably never see daylight again, unless indeed that, like Mrs. Katy Scudder in the “Minister’s Wooing,” we may occasionally air our treasures. What we found most useful was everything in the shape of woollen or other thick fabrics, winter dresses, warm plaid shawls, flannels, furs, etc.; of these we had a tolerable stock, and as the cold increased we put one thing over another till we must have often presented the appearance of feather-beds tied in the middle with a string. Indeed, as our gentlemen politely phrased it, we made complete “guys” of ourselves, and I must say that they were not one whit behind us in grotesque unsightliness of costume. Your brothers sometimes wore four or five flannels one over the other, thick jerseys and heavy overcoats when not actually at work, and pairs upon pairs of thick woollen socks and stockings, with great sea-boots drawn over all;or in deep snow “moccasins” or else “shoe-packs,” the first being made by the Indians, of the skin of the moose-deer, and the second mostly of sheep-skins. The great mart for these articles is at the Indian settlement of “Lachine” on the St. Lawrence, near Montreal. They also wore snow-shoes, which are not made like the Laplanders’ with skates attached for sliding, but simply for walking on the surface of the deep snow. They consist of a framework of wood three feet long by one and a half wide, filled up with strips of raw deer-skin interlaced, and in shape resembling a fish, more like a monstrous sole than any other. We ladies, too, were thankful to lay aside our French kid boots and delicate slippers, and to wrap our feet and legs up so completely that they much resembled mill-posts. Had you or any of our dear friends seen us in our Esquimaux costume, you would certainly have failed torecognise the well-dressed ladies and gentlemen you had been in the habit of seeing. To crown all, your brother-in-law and C——s had goat-skin coats brought from France, real Robinson Crusoe coats, such as are worn by the French shepherds, and these they found invaluable. We were very sorry that E——d had not one likewise.
Our occupations were manifold; hard work was the order of the day for every one but me; but all the work I was allowed to do was the cooking, for which I consider that I have a special vocation. A great compliment was once paid me by an old Indian officer in our regiment, who declared that Mrs. K. could make a good curry, he was sure, out of the sole of a shoe!
At other times I read, wrote letters, and plied my knitting-needles indefatigably, to the great advantage of our little colony, in the shape of comforters, baby-socks, mittens,Canadian sashes and petticoats for the little children. Sometimes I read to the children out of their story-books, buttheirhappiest time was when they could get your sister P——e to give them an hour or two in the evening of story-telling. You know what a talent she possesses for composing, both in prose and verse, stories for little people, and with these she would keep them spell-bound, to the great comfort of the elders of the party, and of their poor mother especially, who towards night felt much fatigued.
Dear children! they required some amusement after the close confinement of the winter’s day. Meanwhile the gentlemen were busy from morning till night chopping down trees in readiness for burning in spring. This is mostly done in mid-winter, as they are reckoned to chop more easily then.
You must not suppose that all this time we had no visitors. By degrees many of thesettlers scattered over the neighbourhood came to see us, some, doubtless, from kindly motives, others from curiosity to know what the strangers were like. I found some of them pleasant and amusing, particularly those who had been long in the country, and who could be induced to give me some of their earlier Bush experiences. A few of them seemed to possess a sprinkling of higher intelligence, which made their conversation really interesting.
One very picturesque elderly man, tall, spare, and upright, came to fell some pine-trees contiguous to the house, which much endangered its safety when the hurricanes, so frequent in this country, blew. He had begun life as a ploughboy on a farm in my beloved county of Kent, and had the unmistakable Kentish accent. It seemed so strange to me at first, to be shaking hands and sitting at table familiarly with one of aclass so different from my own; but this was my first initiation into the free-and-easy intercourse of all classes in this country, where the standing proverb is, “Jack is as good as his master!”
I found all the settlers kindly disposed towards us, and most liberal in giving us a share of their flower-seeds, plants, and garden produce, which, as new-comers, we could not be supposed to have. They were willing also to accept in return such little civilities as we could offer, in the shape of books and newspapers from the old country, and sometimes medicines and drugs, which could not be got in the settlement. There might be a little quarrelling, backbiting, and petty rivalry among them, with an occasional dash of slanderous gossip; but I am inclined to think not more than will inevitably be found in small communities.
As a body, they certainly are hard-working,thrifty, and kind-hearted. Almost universally they seem contented with their position and prospects. I have seldom met with a settler who did not think his own land the finest in the country, who had not grown thelargest turnip ever seen, and who was not full of hope that the coveted railway would certainly pass through his lot.
At this time I felt an increasing anxiety about your sister’s confinement, which was now drawing near. That such an event should take place in this desolate wilderness, where we had no servants, no monthly-nurse, and not even a doctor within reach, was sufficiently alarming. To relieve my mind, your brother-in-law went about the neighbourhood, and at last found a very respectable person, a settler’s wife, not more than three miles off, who consented to be our assistant on this momentous occasion, and hepromised to go for her as soon as dear F——e should be taken ill.
We had been made a little more comfortable in the house, as your brother-in-law and brother had made a very tolerable ceiling over our bed-places, and your brother had chopped and neatly piled up at the end of the room an immense stock of fire-wood, which prevented the necessity of so often opening the door.
We felt now more than ever the want of fresh meat, as the children could not touch the salt pork, and were heartily tired of boiled rice and dumplings, which were all the variety we could give them, with the exception of an occasional egg. In this emergency your brother C——s consented to sell me a bull calf, which he intended bringing up, but having also a cow and a heifer, and fearing to run short of fodder, he consented to part with him. Thus I becamethe fortunate possessor of an animal which, when killed, fully realised my misgivings as to its being neither veal nor beef, but in a transition state between the two. It had a marvellous development of bone and gristle, but very little flesh; still we made much of it in the shape of nourishing broth and savoury stews, and as I only paid seven dollars for it, and had long credit, I was fully satisfied with my first Bush speculation.
The 18th of January arrived. The day had been very cold, with a drifting, blinding snow; towards evening a fierce, gusty wind arose, followed by pitch darkness. The forest trees were cracking and crashing down in all directions. We went to bed. At two a.m., having been long awake, I heard a stir in the room, and dear F.’s voice asking us to get up. What my feelings were I leave you to imagine—to send for help threemiles off, in such a night, was impossible, for even with a lantern your brother-in-law could not have ventured into the Bush. Fortunately, we had no time to be frightened or nervous. We removed the sleeping children to our own bed, made the most comfortable arrangement circumstances would admit of for dear F——e, and about three a.m., that is to say, in less than an hour after being called, our first Bush baby was born, a very fine little girl.
Your sister P——e, who had been reading up for the occasion, did all that was necessary, with a skill, coolness and self-possession which would have done honour to “Dr.Elizabeth Black!”
I did indeed feel thankful when I saw my child safe in bed, with her dear baby-girl, washed, dressed, and well bundled up in flannel, lying by her side, she herself taking a basin of gruel which I joyfully preparedfor her. God “tempers the wind to the shorn lamb.”
We could well believe this when we found your sister recover even more quickly than she had done in France, where she had so many more comforts and even luxuries; nor was she this time attacked by ague and low fever, from which she had always suffered before.
This sudden call upon our energies made me glad that my wandering life in the army had rendered me very independent of extraneous help, and that I had taught you all from childhood never to call a servant for what you could easily do with your own hands. The very first thing peoplemustlearn in the Bush, is to trust in God, and to help themselves, for other help is mostly too far off to be available.
At the end of this month, when I felt that I could safely leave dear F——e, I determinedto go to B——e and sign for my land. The not having done so before had long been a cause of great anxiety.
I had been more than four months in the country, had begun to clear and to build upon my lot, and yet from various causes had not been able to secure it by signing the necessary papers. These having been sent to France, and having missed me, had been duly forwarded here. Till the signing was completed, I was liable at any moment to have my land taken up by some one else. Accordingly your brother wrote to B—— for a cutter and horse, and directed the driver to come as far into the Bush as he could.
We started on a very bright, cold morning, but I had walked fully three miles before we met our sledge, which was much behind time. I never enjoyed anything in the country so much as this my first sleighingexpedition. The small sleigh, or cutter as it is sometimes called, held only one, and I was nestled down in the bottom of it, well wrapped up, and being delightfully warm and snug, could enjoy looking at the very picturesque country we were rapidly passing through. I did, however, most sincerely pity your brother and the driver, who nearly perished, for sitting on the front seat they caught all the wind, which was piercing. We stopped midway at a small tavern, where we dined, and I can truly say that in spite of the dirty table-cloth and the pervading slovenliness and disorder of the house and premises, I found everything enjoyable, and above all the sense of being for a few hours at least freed from my long imprisonment in the woods.
It was late in the afternoon when we arrived at B——e, where we went to the N. A. Hotel, and were made very comfortableby its kind mistress. The next morning at ten a.m. we went to the magistrate’s office, where I signed for my one hundred acres, and of course came away with the conscious dignity of a landed proprietor.
I was charmed with the kind and courteous manners of Mr. L——s. He reminded me more of that nearly extinct race—the gentleman of the old school—than any one I had seen since leaving England. His son, who is his assistant, seems equally amiable and popular. Seeing from my manner that I considered Muskoka, even at the present time, as theUltima Thuleof civilisation, he told us some amusing anecdotes of what it had actually been when his grandfather first became a settler in Canada. The towns and villages now called the “Front,” had then no existence; all was thick forest, no steamers on the lakes, no roads of any kind,and barely here and there a forest-track made by Indians or trappers. From where his grandfather settled down, it was sixty miles to the nearest place where anything could be got, and the first year he had to go all this distance on foot for a bushel of seed potatoes for planting, and to return with them in a sack which he carried on his back the whole way.
We left B——e to return home at one p.m., but it was nearly dark when we turned into the Bush, and quite so when we were put down at the point from which we had to walk home. Here we were luckily met by your brother C——s and C. W., with a lantern and a rope for our parcels, according to promise. C——s took charge of me, and led the way with the lantern. I tried to follow in his steps, but the track was so narrow, and the light so uncertain, that I found myself, every few moments, up to myknees in soft snow, if I diverged only a step from the track.
I became almost unable to go on, but after many expedients had been tried, one only was found to answer. C——s tied a rope round my waist, and then round his own, and in this safe, but highly ignominious manner, I was literally towed through the forest, and reached home thoroughly exhausted, but I am bound to say almost as much from laughter as from fatigue. I found all well, and the children were highly pleased with the little presents I had brought for them.
The first months of this year found us very anxious to get the log-house finished, which had been so well begun by our four gentlemen, and as soon as the weather moderated a little, and our means allowed us to get help, we had it roofed, floored, chinked, and mossed. It was necessary to get it finished, so that we might move before the great spring thaw should cover the forest-paths with seas of slush and mud, and before the creek between us and our domicile should be swollen so as to render it impassable for ladies.
When the workmen had finished, we sent to the nearest town for a settler’s stove; and as the ox-team we hired could bring it no farther than the corner of the concession road which skirts one end of my lot, your brothers had the agreeable task of bringing it piecemeal on their backs, with all its heavy belongings, down the precipitous side of my gully, wading knee-deep through the creek at the bottom, and scrambling up the side nearest here. It was quite a service of danger, and I felt truly thankful that no accident occurred.
About this time our young friend C. W. left us, and we were very sorry to lose him, for more particularly in “Bush” life the taking away of one familiar face leaves a sad blank behind. He could not, however, make up his mind to remain, finding the life very dull and cheerless, and suffering moreover most severely from the cold of the climate.He went to Toronto, and at last got a tolerably good situation in a bank, where his thorough knowledge of French and German made him very useful.
Another important event also took place, and this was the christening of our dear little “Bush” girl, who by this time was thriving nicely. Our Church of England clergyman at B——e very kindly came over to perform the ceremony, but as no special day had been named, his visit took us by surprise, and the hospitality we were able to extend to him was meagre indeed. This christening certainly presented a marked contrast to our last. It was no well-dressed infant in a richly-embroidered robe and French lace cap like a cauliflower ring, that I handed to our good minister, but a dear little soft bundle of rumpled flannel, with just enough of face visible to receive the baptismal sprinkling.
We all stood round in our anomalous costumes, and a cracked slop-basin represented the font. Nevertheless, our little darling behaved incomparably well, and all passed off pleasantly. With our minister afterwards, a very kind and gentlemanly man, we had an hour’s pleasant conversation, which indeed was quite a treat, for in the Bush, with little or no time for intellectual pursuits, for the practice of any elegant accomplishment, or indeed for anything but the stern and hard realities of daily labour; conversation even among the well-educated is apt to degenerate into discussions about “crops” and “stock,” and the relative merits oftimothyorbeaver hay.
We saw but little of your brother Edward at this time, for he was fully occupied in the log-house, where he lit a large fire every day that it might be thoroughly aired for our reception, and then engaged in carpenteringextensively for our comfort. He put up numerous shelves for the crockery and kitchen things, made two very good and substantial bedsteads, a sofa fixed against the wall which we call the “daïs,” and a very comfortable easy-chair with a flexible seat of strips of cowhide interlaced—an ingenious device of your brother Charles, who made one for his wife.
At last the house being finished, quite aired enough, and otherwise made as comfortable as our very slender means would permit, we resolved to move, and on the 7th of April we took our departure from dear F——’s, who, however glad to have more room for the children, sadly missed our companionship, as we did hers. The day of our exodus was very clear and bright, and the narrow snow-track between our lots was still tolerably hard and safe, though the great thaw had begun, and the deep untroddensnow on either side of the track was fast melting, and every careless step we took plunged us into two or three feet of snow, from which we had to be ignominiously dragged out. It was worse when we sank into holes full of water, and the narrow path treacherously giving way at the edges, we had many of these falls. All our trunks, chests, and barrels had to be left at F——’s, and we only took with us packages that could be carried by hand, and our bedding, which was conveyed on the shoulders of the gentlemen.
Of course we travelled in Indian file, one after the other.
When we finally departed, your brother-in-law and Sister P——e preceded me, laden with all manner of small articles, and every few yards down they came. I followed with a stout stick which helped me along considerably, and as I was not allowed to carryanything, and picked my way very carefully, I managed to escape with comparatively few falls, and only two of any consequence, one when I pitched forward with my face down flat on the ground, and another when my feet suddenly slipped from under me and sent me backwards, rolling over and over in the snow before, even with help, I could get up. The effects of this fall I felt for a long time.
At length we arrived at our new home, but in spite of the magic of that word, I felt dreadfully depressed, and as we were all thoroughly wet and weary, and on looking out of the windows in front saw nothing but a wall of snow six feet deep, which encircled the house and quite hid the clearing from our eyes, I need not say that we were anything but a gay party. Your kind brother-in-law, to console me a little, went home and brought back in his arms, as a present for me, the little cat of which I had been sofond at his house. I cheered up immediately, and had so much trouble to prevent little Tibbs from running away and being lost in the snow, that it was quite an occupation for me. One member of our party made himself at home at once, and from the moment of our entrance took possession of the warmest place before the stove. This was dear old Nero, who, as a “French seigneur,” had great privileges, was much admired in the settlement, and was always called the “Frenchman!” His chief delight seemed to be incessantly barking at the squirrels.
The thaw continuing, we were quite prisoners for some weeks, and as to our property left at your sister’s, it was nearly three months before we could get it, as your brother-in-law with your brothers had to cut a path for the oxen between our clearings, and to make a rough bridge over his creek, which, though not so deep as the one on myland, was equally impassable for a wagon and team.
Happy would it have been for us, and for all the new settlers, if, when the snow was quite melted, which was not till the second week in May, fine dry weather had ensued. This would have enabled us to log and burn the trees felled during the winter, and to clear up the ground ready for cropping. Instead of this, drenching rain set in, varied by occasional thunder-storms, so that even after the logging was done it was June before we could venture to fire the heaps, the ground being still quite wet, and even then the clearing was such a partial one that by the 15th of June we had only three-fourths of an acre thoroughly ready, and on this your brother planted eight bushels of potatoes, happily for us regardless of the prognostics of our neighbours, who all assured him that he was much too late to have any chance of a return.He had, however, an excellent yield of eighty bushels, which fully repaid him for his perseverance and steady refusal to be wet-blanketed. He also, however late, sowed peas, French beans, vegetable-marrows, and put in cabbages, from all of which we had a good average crop.
We had, of course, to hire men for our logging, with their oxen, and to find their meals. I could not but observe how well they all behaved, washing their faces and hands before sitting down to table, and also scrupulously refraining from swearing, smoking, or spitting, while in the house. A man who hires himself and his oxen out for the day, has two dollars and food for himself and his beasts; and should he bring any assistants, they each have seventy-five cents and their food. You should have seen the gentlemen of our party after a day’s logging! They were black from head to foot, and moreresembled master chimney-sweeps than anything else. Most of the settlers have a regular logging-suit made of coarse coloured stuff; anything better is sure to be spoiled during such work.
Our fire, though a bad one, was very picturesque. It did not burn fiercely enough to clear off the log-heaps still wet from the late rains, but it ran far back into the forest, and many of the tall trees, particularly the decaying ones, were burning from bottom to top, and continued in flames for some days and nights. During the logging I sincerely pitied the poor oxen, who are yoked together and attached by a heavy chain to one immense log after another, till they are all brought into position, and the log-heaps are arranged for burning. It is most distressing to see these patient animals panting after their exertions, and too often, I regret to say, beaten and sworn at in a most outrageous manner.
Great care is required to prevent accidents during logging, and fatal ones sometimes occur. I was in conversation with the reeve of an adjoining township this summer, and he told me that two years ago he lost his eldest son, a young man of great promise, in this melancholy way. The poor fellow made a false step while driving his team, and fell right before the oxen who were coming on with a heavy log, quite a tree, attached to them. Before it was possible to stop them, they had drawn the tree over him and he was literally crushed to death.
Not having been able to get the land ready for corn of any kind, and our only crops being the potatoes I have mentioned, and a few garden vegetables, your brother thought it best to give his whole attention to fencing our clearing all round, and putting gates at the three different points of egress. This was the more necessary as your brotherCharles had a cow and heifer with a large circle of acquaintances among our neighbour’s cattle, who came regularly every morning to fetch them away into the Bush, where they all fed till night. Your brother made three gates on the model of French ones, which are both solid and simple in their construction, easy to open and easy to shut.
Wonderful to say, some of the old settlers condescended to admire these novelties. Your brother Charles worked with him till this necessary labour was concluded, and we were glad enough when our four and a half acres were securely protected from the daily inroads of stray cattle. Before the fence was up, your sister and I spent half our time in running out with the broom to drive away the neighbour’s cattle, and protect our cherished cabbage plants, and the potatoes just coming up. Two audacious steers in particular, called Jim and Charlie, used tocome many times during the day, trot round the house, drink up every drop of soapy water in the washing-tubs, and if any linen was hanging on the lines to dry, would munch it till driven away.
Two oxen and two or three cows used to come early every morning, and cross our clearing to fetch their friends from your brother Charles’. We used to hear the ox-bells, and after they had passed some time would see them returning in triumph with Crummie and the heifer, and after your brother-in-law got a cow, they would go for Dolly likewise, and then the whole party would go off and feed together in the Bush till night.
Fortunately, all the cattle in this part wear bells to prevent their being lost. One day your sister and I went to bring F——e and the children back to tea, when suddenly her own cow, Mistress Dolly, witha neighbour’s oxen called Blindy and Baldface, came rushing down the path we were in, and we had just time, warned by the bells, to scramble out of the way with the children and get behind some trees, while F——e, always courageous and active, drove them in an opposite direction.
The being able to turn the cattle (a settler’s riches) into the Bush during the whole summer, and thus to feed them free of all expense, is a great boon to the settler; but this Bush-feeding has its disadvantages, for the cattle will sometimes stray with what companions they gather on the road, miles and miles away, to the great discomfort of their masters who have to hunt for them.
All through the past summer, after his hard day’s work, we used to see your youngest brother pass with a rope in one hand and his milk-pail in the other, from our clearing into the Bush, to look forCrummie and the heifer. Sometimes he would return with them, but much oftener we had to go without the milk he supplied us with, as Crummie would be heard of far away at some distant farm, and occasionally she and her companion strayed as far as the Muskoka Road, many miles off, which of course necessitated great loss of time and much fatigue the next day in hunting her up. Both your brothers and your brother-in-law are excellent at making their way through the Bush, and as each carries a pocket-compass, are in little danger of being lost.
Just before we came here the whole settlement had to turn out in search of a settler’s wife, who had gone to look for her cow one fine afternoon with two of her own children and two of a neighbour’s, who coveted the pleasant scrambling walk, and the chance of berry-picking. As evening came on and they did not return, much alarm was felt; andwhen the night had passed, it was thought best to call out all the men in the immediate neighbourhood. Accordingly twenty men were soon mustered, headed by a skilful trapper, who has been many years here, and knows the Bush well. They made a “trapper’s line,” which means placing the men in a straight line at considerable distances from each other, and so beating the Bush in all directions as they advance, shouting and firing off their guns continually. At length, towards the afternoon, the trapper himself came upon the poor woman and the four children, not many miles from her home, sitting under a tree, utterly exhausted by hunger, fatigue, and incessant screaming for help. Her account was, that she had found her cow at some distance from home, had milked her, and then tried to return, but entirely forgot the way she came, and after trying one opening after another became utterly bewildered.
The forest in summer is so unvarying that nothing is easier than to go astray. As night came on, she divided the can of milk among the poor, hungry, crying children, and at length, tired out, they all slept under a large tree, the night providentially being fine and warm. In the morning they renewed their fruitless efforts, getting farther and farther astray, till at length they had sunk down incapable of longer exertion, and unable to stir from the spot where they were found.
I conclude this letter with remarking, that instead of the spring which I fondly anticipated, we burst at once from dull gloomy weather and melting snow, to burning hot summer and clouds of mosquitoes and flies of all kinds.
Summer and mosquitoes! Inseparable words in Canada, except in the large towns, where their attacks are hardly felt.
In the Bush, the larger the clearing the fewer the mosquitoes. It is, above all things, desirable to avoid building a log-house near swampy ground, for there they will be found in abundance.
We have four acres and a half quite clear, but unfortunately our log-house, instead of being placed in the middle, is at one end, with a well-wooded hill and a portion of denseforest at the back and at one end; delicious retreat for our enemies, from whence they issued in myriads, tormenting us from morning till night, and all night long.
This Egyptian plague began in the end of May, and lasted till the end of September. We being new-comers they were virulent in their attacks, and we were bitten from head to foot; in a short time we felt more like lepers than healthy, clean people, and the want of sleep at night was most trying to us all, after our hard work. Our only resource was keeping large “smudges” continually burning in pans. These “smudges” are made of decayed wood, called “punk,” and smoulder and smoke without flaming.
When I went to bed at night (my only time for reading) I used to turn a long trunk end upwards close to my bolster, and place a large pan of “punk” on it, so that myself and my book were well enveloped in smoke.Many times in the night we had to renew our pans, and from the first dawn of day the buzzing of these hateful insects, who seem then to acquire fresh liveliness, prevented all chance of sleep. Nor were the mosquitoes our only foes. Flies of all kinds swarmed around us, and one in particular, the deer-fly, was a long black fly frightful to look at, from its size and ugliness. Still, as the flies did not circle about in the air as the mosquitoes did, we could better defend ourselves against them.
We derived little or no benefit from the numerous remedies recommended by different settlers. In one only I found some alleviation—a weak solution of carbolic acid, which certainly deadened the irritation, and was at least a clean remedy compared with the “fly-oil” with which most of the settlers besmear themselves unsparingly.
Towards the end of June I entered uponan entirely new phase of Bush-life, which was anything but pleasant to a person of a nervous, susceptible temperament. This was my being in perfect solitude for many hours of every day. Your sister-in-law expected her first confinement, and we were so anxious that she should have proper medical advice, that it was thought advisable to place her in lodgings at B——e till the important event took place. Her brother coming to pay her a visit entirely agreed in the necessity of the case, and as he kindly smoothed away the money difficulty it was carried into execution. She could not go alone, and therefore your eldest sister accompanied her, and thus I lost for a time my constant and only companion.
I undertook now to keep house for both your brothers, as in his wife’s absence Charles could have little comfort at home. I only saw them at meal-times, and though your eldest brother came home always before dusk, yetI could not but be very nervous at being so much alone.
The weather became so hot, that the stove was moved into the open air at the back of the house, and to save me fatigue your brother cut a doorway at the back, close to where the stove was placed. Unfortunately there was a great press of work at this time, and moreover no lumber on the premises, and therefore no door could be made, and the aperture, which I had nothing large enough to block up, remained all the summer, to my great discomfiture.
At first I was not so very solitary, for a settler’s daughter, who had worked for your sister-in-law, came to me three times a week, and went on the alternate days to your sister F——e. We liked her very well, were very kind to her, and under our training she was learning to be quite a good servant, when an incident occurred which occasioned our dismissingher, which gave me great pain, and which has never been cleared up to my satisfaction.
Our poor dog Nero, who was an excellent guard, and quite a companion, was taken ill, and we fancied that he had been bitten by a snake in Charles’ beaver meadow, where he had been with your brothers who were hay-making. We nursed him most tenderly, you may be sure, but he got worse and worse suffered agonies, and in less than a week I was obliged to consent to our old favourite dog being shot. He was taken from my bed well wrapped up, so that he knew nothing of what was coming, while I walked far away into the wood, and your brother with one shot put the faithful animal out of his pain. Two days before he died a large piece of poisoned meat was found near the pathway of our clearing, and as from before the time of his being ill no one but this servant girlhad gone backwards and forwards, as her father had a kind of grudge against your brother for driving his cattle off the premises, and as she never expressed the slightest sympathy for the poor beast, but seemed quite pleased when he was dead, we could not but fear that she had been made the medium of killing him. We found that he had been poisoned with blue vitriol, but we knew this too late to save him.
We buried him honourably, and I planted a circle of wild violets round his grave, and was not ashamed to shed many tears besides, which was a well-deserved tribute to our old and faithfulfriend.
After the girl was dismissed I found more than enough of occupation, for though your brother made and baked the bread, which I was not strong enough to do, yet I cooked, washed for them, and did the house-work, which I found sufficiently fatiguing, and wasvery glad after dinner to sit down to my writing-table, which I took good care to place so as to face the open door, never feeling safe to have it at my back.
Your dear sister F. was so kind, that at great inconvenience to herself, on account of the heat and the flies in the forest, she managed to come nearly every day at four p.m. with the children, and remained till your brother came back for the night.
He was occupied for many weeks in making hay with your brother and brother-in-law in the beaver meadow, a large one and very productive. They make a great deal of hay, and put it up in large cocks, but a great deal of it was lost by rotting on the ground, from not being carried away in proper time. The delay was occasioned by none of us having oxen of our own, and from not having the means of hiring till the season was passed.
The not getting money at the proper epochsfor work is the greatest drawback to the new settler. If it comes too soon it is apt to melt away in the necessities of daily life; if it comes too late he must wait for another year.
I fully realised during this summer, that solitude in the Bush is not privacy. Though in case of any accident I was out of reach of all human help, yet I was liable at any moment of the day to have some passing settler walk coolly in, and sit down in my very chair if I had vacated it for a moment. I got one fright which I shall not easily forget. I had given your two brothers their breakfast, and they had started for their hay-making in the distant beaver meadow. I had washed up the breakfast-things, cleared everything away, and was arranging my hair in the glass hanging in the bed-place, the curtain of which was undrawn on account of the heat. My parting look in the glass disclosed a not very prepossessing face in the doorway behind, belongingto a man who stood there immovable as a statue, and evidently enjoying my discomfiture.
I greeted him with a scream, which was almost a yell, and advanced pale as a ghost, having the agreeable sensation of all the blood in my body running down to my toes! His salutation was:
“Wall, I guess I’ve skeered you some!”
“Yes!” I replied, “you startled me very much.”
He then came in and sat down. I sat down too, and we fell into quite an easy flow of talk about the weather, the crops, etc.
How devoutly I wished him anywhere else, and how ill I felt after my fright, I need not say, but I flatter myself that nothing of this appeared on the surface; all was courtesy and politeness.
At length he went way, and finding your brother in the beaver meadow, took care toinform him that he “had had quite a pleasant chat with his old woman!”
I knew this man by sight, for once in the early part of the summer he came to inquire where Charles lived? On my pointing out the path, and saying in my politest manner,
“You will have no difficulty, sir, in finding Mr. C. K.’s clearing,” he coolly replied:
“I guess I shall find it; I knows your son well;we always calls him Charlie!”
I had visitors during the summer, who were much more welcome. Two nice intelligent little boys with bare feet and shining faces, the children of an American from the “States,” settled in the Muskoka Road, used to come twice a week with milk, eggs, and baskets of the delicious wild raspberry at five cents a quart. While they were resting and refreshing themselves with cold tea and bread-and-butter we used to have quite pleasant conversations. They were very confidential,told me how anxiously they were expecting a grandmother, of whom they were very fond, and who was coming to live with them; of their progress and prizes in the Sunday-school some miles from here, which they regularly attended; of their garden and of many other little family matters; and when I gave them some story-books for children, and little tracts, they informed me that they would be kept for Sunday reading. They never failed, with the things they brought for sale, to bring me as a present a bunch of beautiful sweet-peas and mignonette, and occasionally a scarlet gladiolus.
When they were gone I used to sit down to my letter-writing; and after all my grubbing and house-work, I felt quite elevated in the social scale to have a beautiful bouquet on my writing-table, which I took care to arrange with a background of delicate fern leaves and dark, slender sprigs of the ground-hemlock.The very smell of the flowers reminded me of my beloved transatlantic home, with its wealth of beautiful plants and flowering shrubs, and every room decorated with vases of lovely flowers which I passed some delicious morning hours in collecting and arranging.
When the fruit season had passed, I lost my little visitors, but was painfully reminded of them at the beginning of the winter. Your brother-in-law was called upon, in the absence of the clergyman, to read the burial service over an old lady who had died suddenly in the settlement. This was the grandmother of my poor little friends. She had always expressed a wish to spend her last days with her daughter in Muskoka, but put off her journey from the “States” till the weather was so severe that she suffered much while travelling, and arrived with a very bad cold. The second morning afterher arrival she was found dead in her bed.
I remained all the summer strictly a prisoner at home. The not being able to shut up the log-house for want of the second door of course prevented my leaving home, even for an hour; for the Bush is not Arcadia, and however primitive the manners and customs may be, I have failed to recognise primitive innocence among its inhabitants.
As to the berry-picking, which is the favourite summer amusement here, I would sooner have gone without fruit than have ventured into the swamps and beaver meadows, where the raspberries, huckleberries, and cranberries abound. My fear of snakes was too overpowering. Charles killed this summer no less than seven; and though we are told that in this part of Canada they are perfectly innocuous, yet your brother pointedout that three out of the seven he killed had the flat conformation of head which betokens a venomous species.
In the meantime our news from B——e was not too good. After a residence in the lodgings of five weeks, your sister-in-law had been confined of a dear little boy, and at first all had gone well, but after a week she became very ill, and also the baby; and as he had to be brought up by hand, and there was great difficulty in getting pure, unmixed milk in B——e, it was thought better, when he was five weeks old, to bring the whole party back. That memorable journey must be reserved for another letter.
I noticed this summer many times the curious appearance of our clearing by moonlight. In the day the stumps stood out in all their naked deformity, as we had no “crops of golden grain” to hide them; but at night I never beheld anything more weird andghostly. The trees being mostly chopped in the winter, with deep snow on the ground, the stumps are left quite tall, varying from five to seven feet in height. When these are blackened by the burning, which runs all over the clearing, they present in the dim light the appearance of so many spectres. I could almost fancy myself in the cemetery in the Dunkirk Road, near Calais, and that the blackened stumps were hideous black crosses which the French are so fond of erecting in their churchyards.
They have in America a machine called a “stump-extractor;” but this is very expensive. By the decay of nature, it is possible, in two or three years, to drag out the stumps of trees with oxen; but the pine stumps never decay under seven or eight years, and during all that time are a perpetual blot on the beauty of the landscape.
I was much interested in a sight, novel tome, namely, the fire-flies flitting about in the tops of the tall trees. They seemed like so many glittering stars, moving so fast that the sight became quite dazzled. In the cold weather, too, the aurora borealis is most beautiful; and it is well worth being a little chilly to stand out and watch the soft tints melting one into the other, and slowly vanishing away. But for these occasional glimpses of beauty and sublimity, I should indeed have found existence in the Bush intolerably prosaic.
I very much missed the flocks of birds I was accustomed to in Europe; but as I always forbade any gun being fired off in my clearing, I soon made acquaintance with some. It was a treat to me to watch two audacious woodpeckers, who would come and nibble at my stumps, and let me stand within a few feet of them without the least fear. There was also a pretty snow-bird, whichknew me so well that it would wait till I threw out crumbs and bits of potato for it; and once, when we had some meat hanging in a bag on the side of the house, which your brother tied up tightly to prevent depredation, this sagacious creature perched on the shed near, and actually looked me into untying the bag, and pulling partly out a piece of the pork, upon which it set to work with such goodwill, that in a few days some ounces of fat had disappeared.