•--^^^ ^A v^ L6„ ■ \-^-'^' ^i>,%!*f''\v'-' \.'-^i^-\«\ .0 0^ ^^^^ 't- ^<<. o5 -^^ \0 ■< '■/ , \- j'iT** .^^' S^*"^ ^. k»i>* * .0.' "00^ i^ > y -% '"''^^ ,0' s '' " ° ' /> "o xV •^, - "b 0^" G^ ,x\ .0* .0 q.. ^ I - J. - 1 ^ \^:^^^' c^'^^«'^^^ \^^'^<^\^ s x'^ • ^ •' , )k ■* <0 ^ -^ ■'" / . ^ s ^ /\ O ' „ , V o 0^ ^0^ : '^" \>^ .-"."> *"^V ^^'^''v^^:. '^ v^^^-^, - ^^ v^ .^^ "^^^ xO°^. * N O \A - % ^"^ A"* 'o \0°x. > N>. ^ " " /^ \> ^^ " ° f ^ ,0" * 8 I I B vOC ^OO ^^^'^ }maj J^.-d. fi^eA^/s/T^- ADVENTURES IN CANADA; LIFE IN THE WOODS. EDITED BY JOHN cfGEIKIE. |llustraf£ir. PHILADELPHIA: POETEE & COATES. lo ■ ox ^-/^^J(7 CONTENTS. CHAPTER L PAM Boy-dreams about travelling. — Our family determines to goto Canada. — The first day on board. — Cure for sea-sickness. — Our passengers. — Henry's adventure. — We encounter a storm. — Height of the waves. — The bottom of the ocean. A fossil sMp. — The fishing-grounds. — See whales and icebergs. — Porpo.ses. — Sea-birds. — Lights in the sea. — The great Gulf of St. Lawrence. —Thick ice-fogs. — See land at last. — Sailing up the river. — Lund at Quebec . . 1 CHAPTER II. Quebec. —Wolfe. — Montcalm's skull.— Toronto. —We set off for the bush. — Mud-roads. — A rough ride. — Our Log- house.— How it was built. — Our barn. — We get oxen and cows. — Elephant and Buckeye. — Unpacking our stores.— What some of our neighbors brought when they came. — Hot (^ays. — Bush costumes. — Sun-strokes. —My sisters have to turn salamanders. — Our part of the house-work . CHAPTER III. Clearing the land. —David's bragging, and the end of it.— Burning the log-heai)s. — Our logging bee. — What preju- dice can do. — Our fences and crops nearly bumed. — The woods on fire. — Building a snake fence. —" Shingle" pigs give us sore trouble. — " Breachy " horses and cattle . ( iii ) 18 40 ly Contents. CHAPTER IV. We begin our preparations for sowing. — Gadflies. — Mosqui- toes. — Han-owing experiences. — A huge fly. — Sandflies. — The poison of insects and serpents. — Winter wheat. — Tlie wonders of plant-life. — Our first " sport." — Wood- peckers. — "Cliittnunks." — The blue jay. — The blue bird. — The flight of birds 5T CHAPTER V. Some family changes. — Amusements. — Cow-hunting. — Our "side-line." — The bush. — Adventures with rattlesnakes. — Garter-snakes. — A frog's flight for life. — Black s(iuirrels 74 CHAPTER VI. Spearing fish. — Ancient British canoes. — Indian ones. — A bargain with an Indian. — Henry's cold bath. — Canadian thundorstornis. — Poor Yorick's death. — Our glorious au- tumns. — Tlie change of the leaf. — Sunsets. — Indian sum- mer. — The fall rains and the roads. — The first snow. — Canadian cohl. — A winter landscape. — "Ice-storms." — Snow crystals. — The minute i)crfection of God's works. — Deer-shooting. — David's misfortune. — Useless cruelty. — Shedding of the stag's horns 89 CHAPTER VII. Wolves. — My adventure with a bear. — Courtenay's cow and the wolves. — A fright in the woods by niglit. — The river freezes. — Our winter fires. — Cold, cold, cold! — A winter's journey. — Sleighing. — Winter mufflings. — Accidents through intense cold 127 CHAPTER VIII. The aurora borealis. — " Jumpers." — Squaring timber. — Rails. --Camping out. — A public meeting. — Winter fashions. — My toe frozen. — A long winter's walk. — Hospitality. — Nearly lost in the woods 142 Contents. CHAPTER IX. Involuntary racing. — A backwoods' parson.age. — Graves in tlie wilderness. — Notions of equality. — Arctic winters. — Kntied grouse. — Indian fishing in winter. — A marriage. — Our winter's pork 158 CHAPTER X. Our neighbors. — Insect plagues. — Military officers' families in the bush. — An awkward mistake. — Dr. D nearly shot for a bear. — Major M . — Our candles. — Fortunate escape from a fatal accident 170 CHAPTER XI. ' Now Spring returns." — Sugar-making. — Rusn psalmody. — Bush preaching. — Worship under diiliculties. — A clerical Mrs. Partington. — Biology. — A ghost. — " It slips good." — Squatters 181 CHAPTER XII. Bush magistrates. — Indian forest guides. — Senses quickened by necessity. — Breaking up of the ice. — Depth of the frost. — A grave in winter. — A ball. — A holiday coat . . 196 CHAPTER XIII. Wild leeks. — Spring birds. — Wilson's poem on the blue bird. — Downy woodpeckers. — Passenger pigeons. — Their num- bers. — Roosting places. — The frogs. — Bull frogs. — Tree frogs. — Flying squirrels 207 CHAPTER XIV. Our spring crops. — Indian corn. — Pumpkins. — Melons. — Fruits. — Wild flowers 22fl vi Contents. CHAPTER XV. The Indians. — Wigwams. — Dress. — Can the Indians be civi- lized? — Their past decay as a race. — Alleged innocence of savage lite. — Narrative of Father Jogiies, the Jesuit mission- ary ........ CHAPTER XVI. 221 The medicine-man. — Painted faces. — Medals. — An Em- bassy. — Religious notions. — Feast of the dead. — Christ- ian Indians. — Visit to the Indians on Lake Huron. — Stolidi- ty of the Indians. — Henry exorcises an Indian rifle . . 260 CHAPTER XVII. The humming-bird. — Story of a pet. — Canada a good countrj- for poor men. — A bush story of misfortune. — Statute labor. — Tortoises. — The hay season. — Our wagon-driving. - Henry and I arc nearly drowned. — Henry falls ill. — Back- woods' doctors 279 CHAPTER XVIII. American men and women. — Fireflies. — Profusion of insect life. — (jrasshoppers. — Frederick and David leave Canada. — Soap-mjiking. — Home-made candles. — Recipe for wash- ing quickly. — Wanting letters. — The parson for driver . 298 CHAPTER XIX. Americanisms. — Our poultry. — The wasps. — Their nests. — " Bob's " skill in killing them. — Raccoons. — A hunt. — Raccoon cake. — The town of Busaco. — Summer " sail- ing." — Boy drowned. — French settlers . . . 313 CHAPTER XX. Apple-bees. — Orchards. — Gorgeous display of apple-blossom. — A meeting in the woods. — The ague. — Wild parsnips. — Man lost in the woods ...... 326 Contents. vii CHAPTER XXI ^ tornado. — Bats. — Deserted lots. — American inquisitivc- uess. — An election agent ..... 339 CHAPTER XXII. A j(jurney to Niagara. — River St. Clair. — Detroit. — A slave's escape. — An American Steamer. — Description of the Falls of Niagara. — Fearful catastrophe .... 849 CHAPTER XXIII. The suspension-bridge at Niagara. — The Whirlpool. — The battle of Lundy's Lane. — Brock's monument. — A soldier nearli^ drowned ....... 367 CHAPTER XXIV. The Canadian lakes. — The exile's love of home. — The colored people in Canada. — Kice. — The Maid of the Mist. — Home- spun cloth. — A narrow road. — A grumbler. — New Eng- land emigrants. — A potato pit. — The winter's wood . 378 CHAPTER XXV. Thoughts for the future. — Changes. — Too hard study. — Education in Canada. — Christmas markets. — Winter amusements. — Ice-boats. — Very cold ice. — Oil-springs. — Changes on the farm. — Growth of Canada. — Tie American climate. — Old Eng and again .... 991 lAVi: IN I III: WOODS. ('II A I' I" !■: i: I. Hoy (IrrnniN iilniiil Innrllinf!;, — Our (iimily ili'trniiini-n Ici jjo to ('niiMilii. — 'I'lu' first iliiy oil linanl. — ("lire for ncii-oirkiu'di. — Our luisBoiiHiM'K, — IIi'Iii'v'k lulvoiitiirn. - - Wo t'lu'oiinti'i' n i>ton». Iloi^lit ol' llio wiivpB 'I'lio luilloiii ot' tho oi'i'iiii. — A I'okkH ^liip. — 'I'lio tlsliliijj-nioiinilfi. — Son wluiloK iiiul icoliorg!*. — I'or- |». — Son-liinln. — l.inlito in llio noi«. — Tlio niciil tiiiil'ol' St. LnwiPiiiH'. — riiloU icr-lonn, — Sco land itt IhkI. — Sailing: up tlio vivor. — I, mill Ml i,>ni'ln'(-. I WONDl'Jv ir (>vrr llnTc W(M'o m hoy wlio did ' not wi^li to hnvrlV I Kiunv I did, smd u^i'd to spend liiiiiw ;iu hour llinikiiii; kI' m11 llu> wondrilld lliilliis 1 slioidd si'(>. ;md ol' w li.il I would luiu;', lii'ino \\\u'\\ 1 l-('lunn'd. lUmKs dl' tiiixrl 1 d(>>(>Uli>d j^rordil\ ;md \iMV oond fi'MtliiiLj lor l>i»\ s, ;is u.lj :is lor ginwM luoii. I li;i\o i\l\\;i\s (himght (hoin. I lio^iui with *' Koliinson ('iiisoo. " liko most l>o^ s — lot- who liMs not I'ond his slot y ? ItiurkliMi'dt, tho ti;r, olloi'. I'oiind A \ oini^ Ar;d> ro;idiii;< :i ti;m^l;\lion of it in tho i\oov ol' his li\tluM''s tout \u tho do>iM"t, Hill 1 don't thiid\ 1 o\ Of w ishod to Ih^ liko him, or to to;>ui in ;> ^^\ld \oni:mlio \\;u. or " y;v> to SOtt>' 2 Boy-dreams about Travelling. as it is culled, like many other boys I liaA'e known, which is a very different thing from having harm- less fancies, that one would like to see strange races of men and strange countries. Some of my schoolmates, whom nothing would content but being sailors, early cured me of any thought of being one, if ever 1 had it, by what I knew of their story when they came back. One of them, James Iloper, I did not see for some years after he went off, but when I met Inm at last among the ships, he was so worn and broken down I hardly knew him again, and he had got so many of the low forecastle ways abt)ut him, that I could not bear his company. Another, Robert Simpson, Avent one voyage to Trebizond, but that cured him. He came back perfectly contented to stay at home, as he had found the romance of sailoring, which had lured him away, a very different thing from the reality. He had never counted on being turned out of his bed every other night or so for something or other, as he was, or being clouted with a wet swab by some sulky fellow, or having to fetch and carry for the men, and do their biddinir, or to climb wet rigo-ino: in stormy weather, and get drenched every now and then, without any chance of changing his clothes ; not to speak of the difference between his nice room at home and the close, crowded, low- roofed forecastle, where he could hardly see for tobacco smoke, and where he had to eat and sleep with companions whom he would not have thought The First Day on Board. 3 of s[)eaking to before he sailed. He came back quite sobered down, and after a time went to study law, and is now a barrister in good jn'actice. Yet I was very glad when I learned that we were going to America. The great woods, and the sport I would have with the deer and bears in them, and the Indians, of whom I had read so often, and the curious wiKlness there was in the thought of settling where there were so few people, and living so dif- ferently from any thing 1 had known at home, quite captivated me. I was glad when the day of sailing came, and went on board our ship, the Ocean King^ with as much delight as if I had been going on a holiday trip. There were eight of us altogether — five brothers and three sisters (my father and mother were both dead), and I had already one brother in America, while another staid behind to push his way in England. The anchor oiice heaved, we were soon on our way down tlie Mersey, and the night fell on us while we were still exploring the wonders of the ship, and taking. an occasional peep over the side at the shore. When we had got into the channel, the wind having come round to the south-east, the captain resolved to go by the northern route, passing the upper end of Ireland. All we saw of it, however, was very little ; indeed, most of us did not see it at all, for the first swell of the sea had sent a good many to their berths, in all stages of sickness. One old gentleman, a Scotchman, who had been boasting 4 Cure for Sea-sickness. that lie had a preventive that avouIcI keep him cleai of it, made us all laugh by his groans and wretcli- edness ; for his specific had not only foiled, but had set him off amono-st the first. He had been told that if he took enough gingerbread and whiskey, he might face any sea, and he had followed the advice faitlifully ; but as the whiskey itself was fit to make him sick, even on shore, you may judge how much it and the gingei'bread together helped him when the ship was heaving and rolling under- his feet. AVe boys did not fail, of course, when we heard him lamenting that either the one or the other had crossed his lips, to come over their names pretty often in his hearing, and advise each other to try some, every mention of the words bringing out an additional shudder of discfust from the unfor- tunate suH'erer. My eldest sister had sent me, just before coming on board, for some laudanum and mustard, Avhich she was to mix and apj^ly some way that was sure, she said, to keep her well ; but she ^ot sick so instantly on the ship beginning to move, that she forgot them, and we had the nmstard after- wards at dinner in America, and the laudanum was a long time in the house for medicine. For a few days every thing was unpleasant enough, but gradually all got right again, and even the ladies ventured to rea])pear on deck. Of course, among a number of people gathered m a ship, you were sure to meet strange characters. A little lijiht man in a wio- was soon the butt of the Our Passenriers. 5 caLin, lie wotilcl ask siicli silly questions, and saj such outrao;eous thinos. He was takino; cliecsos, and tea, aiid I don't know what else, to America with liiiii, for fear ho would get nothing to eat there ; ami he was dreadrully alarmed, by one of tlie pas- senizers, who had been over beiore, tellinrr him he would hnd cockroach pie the chief dainty in Can- ada. I believe the cheeses he had with him had come from America at first. He thought the best thing to make money by in Canada, was to sow all the country with mustard-seed, it yielded such a great crop, lie said ; and he seemed astonished at all the table laughing at the thought of what could possibly be done with it. There was another per- son in the cabin — astitl", conceited man, with a very stranoe head, the whole face and brow runnin•<--. !T ■^. Tlie miace koBseSs midi ihewr hic:^ tvv^ Kk« as the odie!r?s. and die K»c of »<\ lie >..:..:. v> - .l?^ every hotv _; out at the back of the j^icturo, hke great ^lu - * :!$ of the lanil, nwde \x im^x^VV \ :r>om the deck. Then there x>7i^ I sunsets, vrith die vatter Ukc glass, and the shotvs rejected in them fir down into their iWpths, aiui the curtains of goKl and crimson, and vi<>lot, and gre«3j by tunis, as the twilight 6*deil into iiighU t« 18 Quebec. CHAPTER II. Quebec. — Wolfe. — Montcalm's skull. — Toronto. — We set cff fot the bush. — Mud-roads. — A rough ride. — Our Log-lu>use. — How it was built. — Our barn. — We get oxeu and cows. — Elephant and Buckeye. — Unpacking our stores. — What some of our neighbors brought when they came. — Hot da^'s. — Bush costumes. — Sun-strokes. —My sisters have to turn salamanders. — Our part of the iiouse-work. OUR landing at Qiu'bec was only for a very short time, till some freight was delivered, our vessel havino" to cto up to jSIontreal before we left it. But we had stay enough to let us climb the narrow streets of this, the oldest of Canadian cities, and to see some of its sights. The view from different points was unspeakably grand to us after being so long pent uj) in a ship. Indeed, in itself it is very fine. Cape Diamond and the fortifica- tions hanging high in the air — the great basin below, hke a sheet of the purest silver, where a hundred sail of the line might ride in safety — the village spires, and the fields of every shape dotted with countless white cottages, the silver thread of the River St. Charles winding hither and thither among them, and, in the distance, shutting in this varied loveliness, a range of lofty mountains, Montcalni's Skull. 19 purple and blue by turns, standing out against the sky in every form of" picturesque beauty, made altogether a glorious panorama. Of" course, the great sio-ht of siiihts to a Briton is the field of battle on the Plains of Abraham, where Wolfe, on the 13th September, 1750, won for us, at the price of his own life, the magnificent colonies of what is now British North America. AVolfe's l)ody was taken to England for burial, and now lies in the vault below the parish church at Green- wich. That of INIontcalm, the French general, who, also, was killed in the battle, was buried in the Ursuline Convent, where they showed us a ghastly relic of him — his fleshless, eyeless skull, kept now in a little glass case, as if it were a thing fit to be exhibited. It was to me a horrible sight to look at the grinning death's head, and think that it was once the seat of the gallant spirit who died so nobly at his post. His virtues, which all honor, are his fitting memorial in every mind, and his appropriate monument is the tomb erected by his victorious enemies — not this parading him in the dishonor and humiliation of the grave. It is the spirit of which we speak when we talk of a hero, and there is nothing in common with it and the poor mouldering skull that once contained it. Quebec is, as I have said, a beautiful place in Bummer, but it must be bad enough in winter. The snow lies till well on in May, and it is so deep that, in the country, every thing but houses and 20 Toronto. trees and other liigli objects are covered. Tlie whole hmdscape is one unbroken sheet of white, over whicli you may go in any direction Avithout meeting or seeing tlie smallest obstacle. But peo- l)le get used to any thing; and even the terrible cold is so met and resisted by double window- sashes, and lur cajts, and gloves, and coats, that the inhabitants seem actnally to enjoy it. When we got to Toronto, we found that my brother Robert, who was already in the country, had been travelling in different directions to look out a place for us, and had at length bought a farm in the township of Bidport, on the banks of the River St. Clair. We therefore sta}ed no longer in Toronto than ])Ossible, but it took us some time to get every thing ])ut right after the voyage, and we were further detained by a letter from my brother, telling us that the house on the fiirm coidd not be got ready for us for a week or two longer. We had thus plenty of time to look about us, and strange enough every thing seemed. The town is very different now-a-days ; but, then, it was a stran-olinn; collection of wooden houses, of all sizes and shapes, a large one next to a miserable one-story shell, ])laced with its end to the street. There were a few brick houses, but only a few. The streets were like a newly-ploughed field in rainy weather, for mud, the w^agons often sinking almost to the axles in it. There was no gas, and the pavements were both few and bad. It ha* dfud-roads. 21 come to be a fine place now, but to us it seemed very wretclied. While we were waiting, we laid in whatever provision we thought we Avould need for a good while, every thing being much cheaper in Toronto than away in the bush. A month or les's saw us moving, my sisters going with Andrew and Henry l)y water, while Frederic was left be- hind in an office ; Robert, my Canadian brother, and I going by land, to get some business done up the country as we passed. The stage in which we took our places was a huge atlair, hung on leather springs, with a broad shelf behind, supported by straps from the upper corners, for the luggage. There were three seats, the middle one movable, which it needed to be, as it came exactly in the centre of the door. The machine and its load were drawn by four horses, rough enough, but of good bottom, as they say. The first few miles were very pleasant, for they had been macadamized, but after that, what travelling ! The roads had not yet dried up, after the spring rains and thaws, and as they were only mud, and much travelled, the most the horses could do was to pull us through at a walk. When we came to a very deep hole, we had to get out till the coach floundered through it. Every here and there, where the water had overflowed from the bush and washed the road completely away in its passage across it, the ground was strewn with rails which had been taken from the nearest fences to hoist out some wheels that 22 A Rough Ride. nad stuck fast. At some places there had been a wholesale robbery of rails, which had been thrown into a gap of this kind in the road, till it was prac- ticable for travellers or wagons. After a time we had to bid adieu to the comforts of a coach and be- take ourselves to a great open wagon — a mere strong box, set on four wheels, with pieces of j)]ank laid across the top for seats. In this affair — some ten feet long and about four broad — we went through some of the worst stages. But, beyond Hamilton, we got back our coach again, and for a time went on smoothly enough, till we reached a swamp, which had to be crossed on a road made of trees cut into lengths and laid side by side, their ends resting on the trunks of others placed length- wise. You may think how smooth it would be, with each log a different size from the one next it — a great patriarch of the woods rising high be- tween " babes " half its thickness. The whole fabric had, moreover, sunk pretty nearly to the level of the water, and the alder bushes every here and there overhung the edges. As we reached it lute at night, and there was neither moon nor stars, and a yard too much either way would have sent coach and all into the water, men had to be got from the nearest house to go at the horses' heads with lanterns, and the passengers were politely re- quested to get out, and stumble on behind as they could, except two ladies, avIio were allowed to stay and be battered up and down inside, instead of A Rough Ride. 23 having to sprawl on in tlie dark with us. This was mj first exj)cnence of " corduroy roads," but we had several more stretches of them before we got to our journey's end. I have long ago learned all the varieties of badness of which roads are capa- ble, and questions whether " corduroy" is entitled to the first rank. There is a kind made of thick planks, laid side by side, which, when they get old and broken, may bid fair for the palm. 1 have seen a stout, elderly lady, when the coach was at a good trot, bunij)ed fairly against the roof by a sudden hole and the shock against the plank at the other side. But, indeed, "corduroy" is dreadful. When we came to it I tried every thing to save my ])Oor bones — sitting on my hands, or raising my body on them — but it wa,s of little use ; on we went, thump, thump, thumping against one log after another, and this, in the last part of our jour- ney, with the bare boards of an open wagon for seats once more. It was bad enouo-h in the coach with stuffed seats, but it was awful on the hard wood. But we got through without an actual up- set or breakdown, which is more than a friend of mine could say, for the coach in which he was ■went into so deep a mud-hole at one part of the road, that it fairly overturned, throwing the passen- gers on the top of one another inside, and leaving them no way of exit, when they came to themselves, but to crawl out throush the window. It was fine weather, however, and the leaves were making the 24 Oar Log-houee. woods ,-»cautif'ul, and tlic birds had begun to flit about, so tliat tlie cheerfulness of nature kept us froHi tliiiiking much of our troubles. It took us three days to go a hundred and fifty miles, and we stopped on the way besides for my brother's busi- ness, so that the rest of our party had reached our new home, by their route, before us. The look of the house which was to be our dwelling was novel enough to me, with my old ideas about houses still in my head. It was built a little back from the river, far enough to give room for a garden when we had time to make one ; and the trees had been cut down from the water's edge to some distance behind the house, to make things a little more cheery, and also to prevent the risk of any of them falling on our establishment in a high wind. The house itself had, in fact, been built of the logs ])rocured by felling these j)atriarchs of the forest, every one of wiiich had, as usual on Cana- dian farms, been cut down. My brother had left special instructions to spare some of the smaller ones, but the " chopper " had understood him ex- actly the wrong way, and had cut down those pointed out with especial zeal as the objects of his greatest dislike. Building the house must have been very heavy work, for it was made of great logs, the whole thickness of the trees, piled one on another, a story and a half high. The neighbors had made what they call a " bee " to help to " raise" it — that is, they had come without expecting How it u'as Built. 25 wages, but with the understanding that each would get back from us, when he wanted it, as many days' labor as he had given. They manage a difficult business like that of getting up the outside of a log house, more easily than one would think. First, the logs are cut into the proper lengths for the sides and tlie ends ; then they are notched at the end to make them keep togetlier ; then an equal niunber are put at the four sides to be ready, and the first stage is over. The next step is to get four laid in the proper positions on the ground, and then to get up the rest, layer by layer, on the top of each other, till the whole are in their places. It is a terrible strain on the men, for there is nothing but sheer strength to help them, except that they put poles from the top of the last log raised, to the ground, and then, with handsj^okes, force another up the slope to its destined position. I have known many men terribly wrenched by the handspoke of some other one slipping and letting the whole weight of one end come upon the person next him. The logs at the front and back were all fully twenty feet long, and some of them eighteen inches thick, so that you may judge their weight. After the square frame had been thus piled up, w^indows and a door were cut with axes, a board at the sides of each keeping the ends of the logs in their places. You may wonder how this could be done, but backwoodsmen are so skilftil with the axe that it was done very neatly. The sashes for the windows 26 Oar Log-house. and tlie planking for different })arts of the house were got from a saw-mili some distance off, across the river, and my brother put in the glass. Of course there were a great many chinks between the logs, but tliese were filled nji, as well as possible, with billets and chips of W(Jod, the whole being finally coated and made air-tight with mortar. Thus the logs looked as if built up with lime, the great black trunks of the trees alternating with the grey belts between. The frame of the roof was made of round poles, flattened on the top, on which boards were put, and these again were covered with shingles — a kind of wooden slate made of split pine, which answers very well. The angles at the ends were filled up with logs fitted to the length, and fixed in their })laces by wooden pins driven througli the roof-pole at each corner. On the whole house there were no nails used at all, except on the roof. AVooden pins, and an auger to make holes, made every thing fast. Inside, it was an ex- tKiiordinary place. The floor was paved with pina slabs, the outer planks cut from logs, with the round side down, and fixed by wooden pins to sleepers made of thin young trees, cut the right lengths. Overhead, a number of similar round poles, about the thickness of a man's leg, supported the floor of the u})per story, which was to be my sisters' bedroom. They had planks, however, in- stead of boards, in honor of their sex, perhaps. They had to climb to this paradise by an extraox'- How it was Built. 27 dinary ladder, made with the never-faihnn; axe and au<;er, out of green, round wood. I used always to think of Robinson Crusoe gettini; into his fortifica- tion, when I saw them going up. The chimney was a wonderful affair. It was large enough to let you walk up most of the "way, and could hold, I can't tell liow many logs, four or five feet long, for a fire. It was built of mud, and when whitewashed looked very well — at least we came to like it ; it was so clean and clieerful in the winter time. But we had to pull it down some years after, and get one built of brick, as it was always getting out of repair. A partition was put up across the middle and then divided again, and this made two bedrooms for my brothers, and left us our solitary room, which was to serve for kitchen, dining-room, and drawing-room, the outer door opening into it. As to paint, it was out of the question, but we had lime for whitewash, and what with it and some newspapers my brothers pasted up in their bedrooms, and a few pictures we brought from home, we thought we were quite stylish. There was no house any better, at any rate, in the neighborhood, and I suppose we judged by that. To keep out the rain and the cold — for rats were not known on the river for some years after — the whole of the bottom log outside had to be banked up after our arrival, the earth being dug up all round and thrown against it. The miserable shanties in which some settlers manage to live foi 28 OiO' Lo (/-house. a tune arc half Inined by this process, and the very wretclied ones built by laborers alongside public works while makino;, look more like natural mounds than human habitations. I have often thought it was a curious thing to see how people, when in the same or nearly the same circumstances, fall upon similar plans. Some of the Indians in America, for instance, used to sink a j)it for a house, and build it round with stones, jjutting a roof on the walls, which reached only a little al)ove the ground ; and antiquarians tell us that the early Scotch did the very same. Then Xenophon, long ago, and Curzon, in our day, tell us how they were often like to fall through the roof of the houses in Anne- nia into the middle of the family, huddled up, with their oxen, beneath, their dwellings being burrowed into the side of a slope, and showing no signs of their presence from above. But our house was not like this, I am happy to say ; it was on the groimd, not in it, and was very warm for Canada, when the wind did not come against the door, which was a very poor one of inch-thick wood. The thickness of the logs kept out the cold wonderfully, though that is a very ambiguous word for a Cana- dian house, which would need to be made two logs thick to be wann -without tremendous fires — at least, in the open unsheltered country. The houses made of what they call " clap-boards " — that is, of narrow boards three-quarters of an inch thick, and lathed and plastered inside — are very much colder ; in- We (jet Oxen and Cows. 29 deed, they are, in my opinion, awful, in any part of them where a fire is not kept up all winter. One thing struck me very nmch, that locks and bolts seemed to be thought very useless things. Most of the doors had only wooden latches, made with an axe or a knife, and fastened at night by a wooden pin stuck in above the bar. We got water fi-om the rivur close at hand ; a plank run out into the stream forming what they called " a wharf," to let us get depth enough for our pitchers and pails. Besides the house, my brother had got a barn built not far from the house — of course a log one — on the piece clear of trees. It was about the size of the house, but the chinks between the logs were not so carefully filled up as in it. The squir- rels, indeed, soon found this out, and were con- stantly running in and out when we had any grain in it. The upper part was to hold our hay, and half of the ground floor was for our other crops, the cows having the remainder for their habitation. We bou(dit a yoke of oxen — that is, two — a few days after our arrival, and we began with two cows, one of them a pretty fair milker, but the other, which had been bought at an extra price, was chosen by Robert for its fine red skin, and never had given much milk, and never did. The oxen, great unwieldy brutes, were pretty well broken ; but they were so different from any thing we had ever seen for ploughing or drawing a wag- on, that Ave were all rather afraid of their horns at 3* 80 Elephant and BucJccf/e. first, and not very fond of having any thing to do with them. We had bought a plough and luirrows, and I don't know what else, before coming up, and liad brought a great many things besides from England, so that we had a pretty fair beginning in firm implements. An ox-wagon was very soon added to our purchases — a rough affair as could be. It was nothing but two })lanks for the bottom and one for each side, with short pieces at the ends, like the wao-on-stao-e, on the road from Toronto — a lonjT box on four wheels, about the heiiiht of a cart. The boards were quite loose, to let them rise and fall in goino; over the roads when they were bad. The oxen were fastened to this machine by a yoke, which is a heavy piece of hard wood, with a hollow at each end for the back of the necks of the oxen, and an iron ring in the middle, on the under side, to slip over a pin at the end of the wagon- pole, the oxen being secured to it by two thin collars of a tough wood called hickory, which were just pieces bent to fit their deep necks, tne ends being pushed up through two holes in the yokes at each side, and fastened by pins at the top. There was no harness of any kind, and no reins, a lono; wand servino; to guide them. I used at first to think it was a very brave thing to put the yoke on or take it otf. The names of our two were Elephant and Buck- eye, the one, as his name showed, a great creature, but as lazy as he was huge ; the other, a much nicer beast, somewhat smaller, and a far better Unpacking our Stores. 31 worker. They wore botli rod ami wliite, and so patit?nt and quiet, that I used to he asliamed of myselt" when 1 i:;<>t angry at them fur their solemn slowness and stu|iidity. Had we been judu;es of cattle we mi^ht have got mueh better ones lor the money they cost us; but my brother Andrew, who bought them, had never had any more to do with oxen till then than to lielp to eat them at dinner. However, we never bought any thing more from the man who sold us them. Our first concern, when we had got fairly into the liouse, was to help to get the fiM'niture and luo-cTaore brought from the wharf, two miles off, for we had to leave every thing exce])t our bedding there on landing. It was a great job to get all into the wagon, and then to open it after reaching the house. The wharf was a long wooden structure, built of logs driven into the shallow bed of the river for perhaps a luuulred yards out to the deep water, and planked over. There was a broad place at the . think rf it, what a source of annoyance the cooking on the logs in the firej4ace was b^bre we got a crane I I remember we once had a large brass panfiil of rasobarry jam, nicdy poised, as we thought, on tha homing l<^s, and just ready to be lifted off. when, lo ! some of the firewood below gave way and down it went into the ashes ! Baking was a hard art lo kam. What bread we had to eat at first ! We used to quote Hood's lines — ** Who has BM heaid of hoafr-nade bmd — This hearj oo^naad of poxtj and kad ! " But practice, and a few lessons fi:t>m a neighbor's wife, made my asters quite expert at it. We had some trouble in getting flour, however, after our first stock ran out. The mill was five miles off, and, as we had only oxen, it was a tedious job get- ting to it and back again. One of my brothers used to set off at five in the morning, with his break&st over, and was not back again till nine or ten at night — that is, after we had wheat of our own. It had to be ground while he waited. But it was not all lost time, for the shoemaker's was Our part of the houseworJc. 39 near the mill, and we always made the same jour- ney do for both. In winter we were sometimes badlv oft' when onr flonr ran short. On gettinji; to the mill, we, at times, fonnd the wheel frozen hard, and that the miller had no Hour of his own to sell. I have known us for a fortnight havinn; to use p<> tatoes instead of bread, when our neighbors ha[)- pened to be as ill provided as we, and could not lend us a " baking." But bakino; was not all that had to be done in a house like ours, with so many men in it. No ser- vants could be had ; the girls round, even when their fathers had been laborers in P2ngland, were quite above going out to service, so that my sisters had their hands full. We tried to help them as much as we could, bringing in the wood for the fire, and carrying all the water from the river. Indeed, I used to think it almost a pleasure to fetch the water, the river was so beautii'ully clear. Never was crystal more transparent. I was wont to idle as well as work while thus employed, looking at the beautiful stones and pebbles that lay at the bottom, far beyond the end of the plank that served for our " wharf." 40 Clearing the Land CHAPTER III. Clearing the land. — David's bragging, and the end of it. — Burning tlie Ijg-heaps. — Our logging bee. — What prejudice can do. — Our fences and crops nearly burned. — The woods on fire. — ^ Building a snake fence. — "Shingle" pigs give us sore trouble. — " Breacliy " horses and cattle. n^HE first thing that had to be done with the land -■- was to make a farm of it, by cutting down and burning as many trees as we could by the first of August, to have some room for sowing wheat in the first or second week of September. It was now well on in June, so that we had very little time. However, by hiring two men to chop (we didn't board or lodge them) and setting our other hired man to help, and with the addition of what my brothers Robert and David could do, we expected to get a tolerably-sized field ready. Henry and I were too young to be of much use ; Henry, the elder, being only about fifteen. As to Andrew, he could not bear such work, and paid one of the men to work for him. Yet both he and we had all quite enough to do, in the lighter parts of the busi- ness. We had got axes in Toronto, and our man fitted them into the crooked handles which they Clearing the Land. 41 use in Canada. A British axe, witli a long, thin blade, only set the men a laughing ; and, indeed, it chanced to be a veiy poor affair, for one day the whole face of it flew off as Robert was making a furious cut with it at a thistle. The Canadian axes were shaped like wedges, and it was wonderful to see how the men made the chips fly out of a tree with them. We got up in the morning with the sun, and went out to work till breakfast, the men whacking away with all their might ; Nisbet, our own man, as we called him, snorting at eveiy stroke, as if that helped him, and my two elder brothers using their axes as well as they could. We, younger hands, had, for our part, to lop ofl' the bi'anches when the trees were felled. My brothers soon got to be very' fair choppers, and could finish a pretty thick tree sooner than you would suppose. But it was hard work, for some of the trees were very large. One in particular, an elm, which the two men attache i at the same time, was so broad across the stump, after it was cut down, that Nisbet, who was a fair-sized man, when he lay down across it, with his head at the edge on one side, did not reach with his feet to the other. But, thicker or thinner, all came down as we advanced. The plan was to make, first, a slanting stroke, and then another, straight in, to cut off the chip thus made ; thus gradually reaching the middle, leaving a smooth, flat stump about three feet high underneath, and a slope in- wards above. The one side done, they began the 42 Clearing the Land. same ])rocess witli the other, hacking away chip after chip from the butt, till there was not enough left to support the mass above. Then came the signal of the approaching fall by a loud crack of the thin strip that was left uncut ; on hearing which, we looked up to see which way the huge shaft was coming, and would take to our heels out of its reach, if it threatened to fall in oiu' direction. It is wonderful, however, how exactly a skilful chop- per can determine beforehand how a tree shall come down. They sometimes manage, indeed, to aim one so fairly at a smaller one, close at hand, as to send it, also, to the ground with the blow. Acci- dents rarely happen, though, sometimes, a poor man runs the wrong way and gets killed. What a noise tlie great monarchs of the forest made as th'ey thun- dered down ! It was like firing off a great cannon ; and right glad we Avere when we had a good many such artillery to fire off in a day. But it was often dreadfully hot work, and my brothers seemed as if they should never drink enough. I used to bring them a small pailful of water at a time, and put it on the shady side of a stump, covering it over with some green thing besides, to keep it cool. The cows and oxen seemed to take as much pleasure as ourselves in our progress, for no sooner was a tree down than they would be among its branches, munching off the tender ends as if they were gi'eat delicacies in their eyes. It was liarder to keep their, out of harm's way than ourselves, and many a time DavicVs Bragging, and the end of it. 43 I was half afraid a tree would be down on nic be- fore I got them out of danger. Indeed, we had one loss, though only a small one. We had been talk- ing over night about cattle being killed, and David, who was always a great brag, had told us that " he thought it all stupidity ; he didn't know how people killed beasts ; he could chop for years and never hurt any thing, if there were ever so many cattle about." Next morning, however, before breakfast, we were all hard at work, and the oxen and the cows were busy with the twigs as usual, when a fine little calf we had got with one of the cows, wandered off in David's direction, just as a tree he was at was about to fall ; and, presently, while he was all excitement about its going the right way for himself, it was down smash on the ])oor calf, which was, of coui'se, gone in a moment. Wo were sorry for the unfortunate little creature, but we could not help laughing amidst all at the face David put on. " It was very singular — very. He couldn't account for it ; how could he think a calf would leave its mother ? " But he said no more about the stupidity of people who killed' oxen or cows while chopping. Working hard every day, it was surprising what a piece we soon felled. When we had got as much down as we thought we could clear off in time for the wheat, we gave the rest a respite for awhile, and set to getting rid of those we had already over- tlu'own. The straightest of them were selected for 44 Burning the Logs. rails, with wlilcli to fence our intended field ; all the others were to be remorselessly burned, stock and branch. The first step toward this had been taken already, by us lads havinfi; cut off the branches from each tree as it was felled, and heaped them together in different spots. The trunks of the trees had next to be cut into pieces about ten feet long, those intended for rails being left somewhat longer. I wonder how often the axes rose and fell during these weeks. Even my brothers began to be able to use them more skilfully, their stumps beginning to look smooth and clean cut, instead of being hacked in a thousand ridges, as at first. How an English carpenter's heart would have grieved over the de- struction of so much splendid wood ! The finest black walnut, and oak, and maple, was slashed at from mornino; to nioht, witli no thouirlit on our parts but to get it out of the way as quickly as pos- sible. Every thing was, at last, ready for the grand fin- ishing act, but that required the help of some neigh- bors, so that we had to call another " bee." The logs had to be rolled together and piled up for burn- ing, which would have taken us too long if left to ourselves alone. We got a good woman from a fami not far off to come in to help my sisters in their preparations, for there is always a great deal of cooking on these occasions. Salt beef and salt pork were to form the centre dishes at the dinner, but there was to be a great array of pies and tarts Our Logging Bee. 45 for wliicli we bouglit part of the fruit across tlie river and, of the rest, there were pumpkins, wliicli wo got from settlers near at hand, and we had phinis enough, very good though wihl, from trees in our own hush. Tea, with cream to every one's taste, formed the ])rincipal heverage, though the most of the men wanted to get wliisky besides. But it ahnost always leads to drunkenness and fighting, so that we did without it. On the day appointed there was a very good muster — perhaps twenty men altogether. They came immediately after break- fast, and we took care to be ready for them. Our oxen were brought to the ground with their yoke on, and a long chain fastened to the ring in it, and two of the men brought each another yoke, so that we were noisy enough, and had plenty of ex- citement. Two men got it as their task to drive, others fixed the chains round the logs, and drew them as near each other as possible, in lots of about six or seven, and the rest had to lift each lot, one log on another, into piles. Henry and I were set to gather the loose brush that was left, and throw it on the top of the heaps, and thrust the dry rotten sticks lying about, into the holes between the logs, to help them to burn. It was astonishing to see how the oxen walked away with their loads. Stand- ing as quiet as if they could not move, except when their tails were sent to do duty on some trouble- some flies, their faces as solemnly stupid as possible, the first shout of the driver made them lean instantly 46 What Prejudice can do. against tlieir yoke in a steady pull, which moved almost any log to which they might be chained. Horses would have jumped and tugged, and the log would have stuck where it was, but the solid strain of the oxen, their two heads offen together, and their bodies far apart, was irresistible. Otf they walked Avith huge cuts of trees, ten feet long, as if they had been trifles. It was a wonder how they could stand di'affiiino; such heavy weiohts over the rough ground, with nothing but the thin wooden collar round their necks, against which to press. A horse needs a padded collar, but an ox doesn't seem to suffer for the want of it. In Nova Scotia, which I afterwards visited, and also in Lower Canada, oxen are harnessed by the horns, and you are only laughed at if you say that it seems cruel. I believe if they were yoked by the tail in any country, the people who use them in that way would stand up for its superiority to any other. Prejudice is a wonderful thino; for blindino; men. I have heard of a gentleman in the East Indies, who felt for the laborers having to carry the earth from some public work they were digging, in baskets, on their shoid- ders, and got a number of wheelbarrows made for them, showing them himself how to use them, and how much better they were than their own plan. But, next morning, when he came to see how they were liking the new system, what was his astonish- ment to find that they had turned the barrows also into baskets, carrying them on their shoulders, with a man at each handle and one at the wheel ! Barniny tht. Logs. 47 Witl' a due rest for dinner and supper, an extra time being taken in the middle of the day to escape the heat, and with a wonderful consumption of eat- ables, including beef and pork, pies, tarts, pickles, puddings, cakes, tea, and other things, at each meal, we got through the day to the satisfaction of all, and had now only to get every thing burned off. The next day it was slightly wiiuly, which was jn our favor, and, still better, the wind was blow- ing away from our house and barn. The burning was as thorough as we could have desired, but it was hot work. We'brought some wood embers from the house, and laid tliem on the top of one of the logs, on the side next the wind. Then we piled chips and sjilinters on them, which were soon m flames, and from them there soon was a grand blaze of the whole pile. Thus we went on, from one to another, until they were all a-fire. But the rolling the pieces together as they burned away, and the stuffing odd ends into the hollows to keep up the flame, was wild work. We ran about all day, gathering up every bit of branch or dead wood we could find, to get a clean sweep made of every thing at once. What we were like when all was over, with our black faces and hands, and smudged shirts and trowsers, may be easily fancied. But, after all, one day was not enough to get rid of the wliole. It was days before we got every thing burned, the last j)i]e being made up of the fragments of all the rest that still remained. 48 Our Fences and Crops nearly hurned. We were fortunate in not having any thing set on fire which we wislied to keep from being burnea. I have known of many cases where dried leaves and pieces of dead Avood, and the thick roots of tlie grass, and the coat of vegetable matter always found in the soil of the forest, kindled, in spite of every effort to prevent it, the fire running along, far and near, in the ground, and setting every thincT it reached in a blaze. I remember, some years after our arrival, Henry was one day going some distance, and thought it woidd be as well, before he started, to fire some brush heaps that were standing in a field that was being cleared, quite a distance back, along the side road ; but he had hardly done so and set off, than my sisters, Margaret and Eliza, avIio Avere alone in the house, noticed that the fire had caught the ground, and was making for the strip at the side of the road, in the direction of the wheat field. It was leaping from one thing to another, as the wind carried it, and had already put the long fence next it, run- nino; alon.o- six or seven acres, in great danger. It it had once kindled that, it might have swept on toward the house and barn and burned up every thing we had; but my sisters were too thorough Canadians by this time to let it have its own way. Otf the two set to the burning; bank, and began to take down the fence rail by rail, and carry each across the road, where the fire could not reach them. Fortunately there was only stubble in the field. The Woods on Fire. 4& and the black ploughed earth checked the fire, but it kept runuing along the road, breaking out atresh after they had thought it was done, and keeping them figliting with the rails the whole day, until Henry came back at night. A man, who passed in a wagon when they were in the worst of their trouble, never offered them any help, poor girls, but drove on, "guessing" they " had a pretty tight job thar." Thanks to their activity there was no mischief done except the taking down the fence ; but it was a wonder it did not hurt my sisters, as the rails are so heavy that men never lift more than one at a time, or very seldom. Another instance occurred about the same time, but on a larger scale. One day on looking east from the house, we noticed, about two miles off, great clouds of smoke rising from the woods, and of course we were instantly off to see what it was. We found that ground-fire had got into a piece of the forest which we call the " Windfall," a broad belt of huge pine trees, which had been thrown down by some terrible whirlwind, I don't know how long before. Some of them had already mouldered in })arts ; others had been charred by some former burning, and would have lasted for al- most any length of time. They lay on each othel in the wildest and thickest confusion, making a barricade that would have kept back an amiy of giants, and reaching for miles, their great branches rising in thousands, black and naked, into the air. 5 50 The Woods on Fire. The fire luid fairly cauglit tliem, and wa& leaping and crackling from limb to limb, and sending up volumes of the densest smoke. It was a terribic sight to see, and no one could tell how far it woulc extend. We were afraid it would spread to the forest at each side, and it did catch many of the trees next it, fixing on them, sometimes at the ground, sometimes up among the branches, while, sometimes, the first indication of their being on fire would be by the dead part at the very top, nearly a bundled feet, I should think, in some cases, from the earth, flamino; out like a star. At night the sight was iirand in the extreme — the blazins; mass of prostrate trees in the Windfall, and at its edges, tongues of flame, running up the huge trunks, or breaking out here and there on their sides. At one place a field came very near the path of the conflagration, and it was feared that, though the trees did not come close enough to set the fence on fire by contact, it might be kindled by the burning twigs and inflammable matter that covered the ground. A plough was therefore brought, and several broad furrows were run outside, that the ground-fire might thus be stopped. The plan was effectual, and the fence remained untouched ; but the fire among the dead ])ines spread day after day, till it had burned up every thing before it, to an opening in the forest on the other side, where it at last died out. As soon as the log-piles had been fairly disposed Bidlding a Snake-fence. 51 of, we had, for our next job, to get the rails put up round tlie field thus cleared. They were made, from the logs that had been saved for the purpose, by one of the choppers, whom Ave retained. Fii'st of all, he sank his axe into one end of the log, and then he put an iron or wooden wedge into the cleft he had made, and drove it home with a mallet. Then, into the crack made by the first wedge, lie put a second, and that made it split so far down that only another was generally needed to send it in two. The same process Avas gone through with the halves, and then with the i)arts, until the whole log lay split into })ieces, varying in thickness from that of a man's leg, as much again, as they were wanted light or heavy. You must remember that they were twelve feet long. To make them into a fence, you laid a line of them down on the ground in a zigzag, like a row of very broad Vs, the end of the second resting on that of the first, and so on, round the corners, till you came to within the length of a rail from where you started. The va- cant space was to be the entrance to the field. Then five or six more were laid, one on another, all round, in the same M-ay — or rather, were put up in short, complete portions, till all Avere in their places. The ends, at each side of the entrance, Avere next lifted and laid on pins put betAveen tAvo upright posts at each side. To make a gate, we had a second set of posts, Avith pins, close to the others, and on these pins rails Avere laid, Avhich 52 Building a Snake-fence. could be taken out wlien wanted, and served very well for a gate, but we boys almost always went over the fence rather than go round to it. To keep all the rails in their places, we had to \n\t up what they called " stakes " at each angle — that is, we had to take shorter rails, sharpened a little at the end, and push one hard into the ground on each side of the fence, at every overlapping of the ends of the rails, leaning them firmly against the top rail, so that they crossed each other above. The last thing was to lay a light rail all round into the crosses thus made, so as to " lock " them, and to make the whole so high that no beast could get over it. We used to laugh about wliat we were told of the piiTs and cattle and horses 2;ettin«j; throuirh and over fences ; but we soon found out that it was no laughing matter. The pigs were our first enemies, for, though we had made the lowest four rails very close, as we thought, to keep them out, we found we had not quite succeeded. There were some of a horrible breed, which they called the " shingle pig," as thin as a slate, with long snouts, lone; coarse bristles, long legs, and a belly like a greyhound — creatures about as different from an English pig as can be imagined. They could run like a horse, nothing Avould fatten them, and they could squeeze themselves sideways through an opening where you would have thouglit they could never liaA'^e got in. If any hollow in the ground gave them the cl ance ** Shingle Pigs " give us sore troulle. 53 of getting Lelow tlic raik, they were sure to find it out, and the first thing you •would see, perhaps, woiikl be a great gaunt skeleton of a sow, with six or eight little ones, rooting away in the heart of your field. AVitli old fences they made short work, for if there were a piece low and rickety, they would fairly push it over with their horrid long noses, and enter with a triumphant grunt. Although they might have spared our feelings, and left our first little field alone, they did not, but never rested snuffing round the fence, till they found out a place or two below it that had not been closely enough staked, through which they squeezed themselves al- most every day, until we found out where they were and stopped them up. The brutes were so cunning that they would never go in before you, but would stand looking round the end of the fence with their wicked eyes till you were gone, llob- ert thought at first he could take revenge on them, and whip them out of such annoying habits, and whenever the cry was given that " the pigs were in," if he were within reach he would rush for the whip, and over the fence, to give them the weight of it. But they were better at running than he was, and, though he cut off the corners to try to head them, I don't know, that in all the times he ran himself out of breath, he ever did more than make them wonder what his intention could be in giving them such dreadful chases. We learned to be wiser after a time, and by keeping down our ill- 5* 54 " Shingle Pigs " give us sore trouUe. nature and di-iving them gently, found tliey "would make for the j)lace where they got in, and, by going out at it, discover it to us. I only once saw a pig run down, and it wasn't a " shingle " one. Neither Robert, nor any of us — for we were all, by his orders, tearing after it in ditferent directions — ?ould come near it ; but a man we had at the time started oft' like an arrow in })ursuit, and very soon had it by the hind leg, lifting it by which, the same instant, to poor piggy's great astonishment, he sent it Avith a great heave over the fence, down on the grass outside. It was a small one, of course, else he could not have done it. A gentleman some miles above us used to be terribly annoyed by all the pigs of the neighborhood, as he declared, getting round the end of his fence which ran into the river, and thought he would cure matters by running it out a rail further. But they were not to be beaten, and would come to the outside, and swim romid his fancied protection. He had to add a third length of rail before he stopped them, and it succeeded only by the speed of the current being too great for them to stem. But pigs were not the only nuisance. Horses and cattle were sometimes a dreadful trouble. A " breachy " horse, or ox, or cow — that is, one given to leap fences or break them down — is sure to lead all the others in the neighborhood into all kinds of mischief. The gentleman who was so worried by the nautical powers of the pigs, used to be *' Breacliy " Horses and Cattle. 55 half distracted by a black marc, wliicli ran loose in his neighborhood, and led the way into his fields to a whole troop of horses, which, but for her, would have been harmless enough. If a fence were weak she would shove it over ; or if firm, unless it were very high indeed, she would leap over it, generally knocking off rails enough in doing so to let the oth- ers in. She took a fancy to a fine field of Indian corn he had a little way from his house, and night after night, when he had fiiirly got into bed, he would hear her crashing over the fence into it, fol- lowed by all the rest. Of course he had to get up and dress himself, and then, after running about lialf an hour, through dewy corn as high as his head, to get them out again, he had to begin in the middle of the night to rebuild his broken rampart. Only think of this, repeated night after night. I used to laugh at his nine or ten feet high fence, which I had to climb every time I went alono- the river side to see him, but he always put me off by saying — "Ah, you haven't a black mare down your way." And I am happy to say we had not. The cattle were no less accomplished in all forms of field-breaking villany than the pigs and horses. We had one brute of a cow, sometime after we came, that used dc-liberately to hook off the rails with her horns, until they were low enough to let her get her forelegs over, and then she leaned heavily on the rest until they gave way before her, after which she would boldly march in. She was an excellent 56 " Brcaclijj^^ Horses and Cattle. milker, so that we did all we could to cure her — stickino; a board on her horns, aud hanoinc; anothef over her eyes — but she had a decided taste for fence-breaking, and we had at last to sentence her to death, and take our revenge by eating her up, through the winter, after she had been tattered. HarrcwinQ. CHAPTER IV. Wfc begin our preparations for sowing. — Gadfliefi. — Mosquitoes.— Harrowing expuriunces. — A huge i\y. — Sandflies. — Tiie poison of insects and serpents. — Winter wheat. — The wonders of plant- life. — Our first " sport." — Woodpeckers. — " Chitmunks." — The blue jay. — The blue bird. — The flight of birds. WHEN we luul got our piece of ground all cleared, except the great ugly stumps, and had got our fence up, our next job was to get every thing ready for sowing. First of all the ashes had to be scattered, a process that liberally dusted our clothes and faces. Then we brought up the oxen, and fastened them by their chain to the sharp end of a three-cornered harrow, and with this we had to scratch the soil, as if just to call its attention to what we wished at its hand. It was the most solemnly slow work I ever saw, to get over the ground with our yoke — solemn to all but the driver, but to him the very reverse. The shouting and yelling on his part never stopped, as he had to get them round this stump and clear of that one. But, if you looked only at the oxen, you forgot the noise, in watching whether they moved at all or not. Elephant would lift his great leg into the air and keep it motionless for a time, as if he were thinking whether he should r>8 aihijiies. ovor si»t it ilowii ;ii!;;uii, aiul, of i-ouiso, Huokoye oouKl iu>t <:;i"t oil liisliT lliiin his inntc. 1 tiioil the harrowiiii;- ;i lillK-, l>iit I (•oiili-ss 1 dithrt like it. \\ o woiv pcrs(,H"iitO(l liy I lie ^adllies, wliieli liund it, and li\es in it till it has attained its I'uU si/.e, when it eomes out, h'ts itself tiill to tho oround and huirows in it, reappeariui;' alter a time as a wiui^ed ^aillly, to torment other I'attle. Tlien there were the lonjj; tou^h roots rumiiuij; in I'veiy direetion round the stumps, and eatehini;' the teeth ot" the harrow every little while, gi\ing the neeks »»t' the poor oxen uneommon j<-'rks, ant! noedino; tlio harrow to he litK'il i)\ er them eaeh time. There was another trouble also, in the shape ol" the mosi|uitoes, whieh worried ilriver and oxen alike. They are tiny ereatures, but they are ne\erthele>s a great nuisanee. In the woods in sinnmer, or near them, or, indeed, where\er there is stagnant water, they a.v ^ure to sound their " airy trump." The won- deri'ul quiekness ot" the vibration of tlieir wing's makes a singing noise, whieh j>roelaims at onee the presenee of even a single tormentor. They rise in clouds i'rom every pool, ami even from the rain- vaUr landb iMfft Ekear i '■- '^' vaem. m srn*^ in tiiear : TUMm «a jpjm^ t» \nA^ T«n aotr Latr^e lAat p^ lualot 1' skfA, Lb CaoBOKiai dier ai«: aad, aaCfl tfeteadinl tra- yMfO, are so - a. 6i£easjt emher. «ddkiB^ dvsn : iinBM iliiiiM I let l^bt to be &it, dacn oat ;^Q» ifae laaioet. ^^"-^-^r fisr«B|ii|»(rt \0jr XtauSaa^ op «■ lL- t^dnin ytft^atatm am ihe smka ankE. A rick and dbe Esai& vaa^iBre is driwlriing j<»ur t'>.»."a- A BDEmite;, and lof *' "^ --'■^irdfesl l^idr beCTB to get fialkc, ondL \^ ht h l&wt^ tootts liie flMsqiaito Ive: vas vikb Be bs^su aad B quite red widi b» soo^jt ♦J y iaiwg tbroa^ bii 60 Mosquitoes. sides. But, though he is done you are not, foi some poisonous secretion is instilled into the punc- ture, which causes pain, inflammation, and swelling, lono- after he is oo"e. We had a little smooth- er c5 haired terrier which seemed to please their taste almost as much as we ourselves did. When it got into the woods, they woidd settle on the poor brute, in spite of all its efforts, till it was almost black with them. Horses and oxen get no rest from their at- tacks, and between them and the horse-flies I have seen the sides of the poor things running with blood. " Dey say ebery ting has some use," said a negro to me one day ; " I wonder what de mosqueeter's good for?" So do I. A clergyman who once visited us declared that he thought they and all such pests were part of what is meant in the Bible by the power of the devil ; Lut Avhether he was right or not is beyond me to settle. Perhaps they keep off fevers from animals by bleeding them as they do. But you know what Socrates said, tliat it was the highest attainment of wisdom to feel that we know nothing, so that, even if we can't tell why they are there, we may be sure, that, if we knew as much as we might, we should find that they served some wise purpose. At the same time I have often been right glad to think that the little nuisances must surely have short commons in the unsettled dis- tricts, where there are no jjcople nor cattle to tor- ment. The harrowing was also my first special intro- A Huge Fhj. Gl duction to tlie horse-flies — great horrid creatures that they are. They ftistened on the oxen at every part, and stuck the five knives witli which their proboscis is armed, deep into the flesh. They are as hirge as lioney-bees, so that you may judge how nuich they torment their victims. I liave seen them make a horse's flanks red witli the blood from tlieir bites. They were too numerous to be driven oft' by the long tails of either oxen or horses, and, to tell the truth, I was half afraid to come near them lest they should take a fancy to myself. It is common in travelling to put leafy branches of maple or some other tree over the horses' ears and head, to protect them as far as possible. The largest fly I ever saw, lighted on the fence, close to me, about this time. AVe had been fright- ened by stories of things as big as your thumb, that soused down on you before you knew it, but I never, before or since, saw such a giant of a fly as this fellow. It was just like the house-fly mag- nified a great many times, how many I should not like to say. I took to my heels in a moment, for fear of instant death, and saw no more of it. Whether it would have bitten me or not I cannot tell, but I was not at all inclined to try the experi- ment. All this time we have left the oxen pulling away at the harrow, but we must leave them a minute or two longer, till we get done with all the flies at once. There is a little black speck called the sand-fly, 6 62 Sand-flies. wlilcli manj think even worse than tlie mosqnito. It comes in clouds, and is too small to ward o% and its bite causes acute pain for hours after. But, notwithstanding gadflies, mosquitoes, horse-flies, and this last pest, the sand-fly, we were better oft* than the South American Indians of whom Hiun- boldt speaks, who liave to hide all night three or four inches deep in the sand to keep themselves from mosquitoes as large as bluebottles ; and our cattle had nothing to contend with like such a fly as the tzetse, which Dr. Livingstone tells us, is found in swarms on the South African rivers, a bito of which is certain death to any horse or ox. How curious it is, by the way, that any poison should be so powerful that the quantity left by the bite of a fly should be able to kill a great strong horse or an ox ; and how very wonderful it is, moreover, that the fly's body should secrete such a frightful poison, and that it should carry it about in it without itself sufl'ering au}^ harm ! Dr. Buckland, of the Life Guards, was once poisoned by some of the venom of a cobra di capello, a kind of serpent, getting below his nail, into a scratch he had given himself with a knife he had used in skinning a rat, which the serpent had killed. And yet the serpent itself could have whole glands full of it, without getting any hurt. But if the cobra were to bite its own body it would die at once. The scorpion can and does sting itself to death. When we had got our held harrowed over twice Winter Wlwat. 63 or tliricc, till every part of it had been well scratched up, and the ashes well mixed with tlie soil, our next step was to sow it, after which came another harrowing, and tlien we had only to Avait till the harvest next July, hoping we might be favored with a good ci'op. Tliat a blade so slight as that of young wheat should be able to stand the cold of the Canadian winter has always seemed to me a great woTidei-. It grows uj) the first year just like grass, and might be mistaken for it even in the beginning of the following spring. The snow which generally covers it during the long cold sea- son is a great protection to it, but it survives even when it has been bare for long intervals together, though never, I believe, so strong, after such hard- ships suffered in its infancy. The snoAv not only pi'otects, but, in its melting, nourishes, the young plant, so that not to have a good depth of it is a double evil. But, snow or not snow, the soil is almost always frozen like a rock, and yet the tender green blades live through it all, unless some thaw during winter expose the roots, and a subsequent frost seize them, in which case the phiut dies. Large patches in many fields are thus destroyed in years when the snow is not deep enough. What survives must have suspended its life while the earth in which it grows is fi'ozen. Yet, after being thus asleep for months — indeed, ijiore than asleep, for every process of life must be stopped, the first breath of spring brings back its vigor, and it wakes 64 The Wonders of Plant-life. as if it liad been n-rowino; all the time. How won* derful are even the common facts of nature ! The life of plants I have always tlionght very much so. Our life perishes if it be stopped for a very short time, but the beautiful i-ol)e of flowers and verdure with which the workl is adorned is well-nigh inde- structible. Most of you know the story of Pope's Aveeping willow : the poet had received a present of a basket of figs from the levant, and when open- ing it, discovered that part of the twigs of which it was made were already budding, fi'ora some mois- ture that had reached them, and this led him to plant one, which, when it had grown, became the stock whence all the Babylonian willows in Eng- land have come. Then we are told that seeds gathered from beneath the ashes at Pompeii, after being buried for eighteen hundred years, have grown on being brought once more to the light, and it has often been found, that others brought up from the bottom of wells, when they were being dug, or from beneath accumulations of sand, of unknown age, have only to be sown near tlie sur- face to commence instantly to grow. It is said that wheat, found in the coffins of mummies in Egypt, has sprung up fi'eely Avhen sown, but the proof of any having done so is thought by others insufficient. Yet there is nothing; to make such a thing impossible^ and perhaps some future explorer like Dr. Layai'd or INIr. Loftus, may come on grains older still, in Babylon or Nineveh, and give us Woodpeckers. 65 bread from the wheat that Nebuchadnezzar or Sem- irainis used to eat. Indeed, M. Michelet tells us, that some seeds found in the inconceivably ancient Diluvitd drift readily grew on beinn; sown. During -the busy weeks in which we were get- ting our first field ready, we boys, though always out of doors, were not always at Avork. Henry used to bring out his gun with him, to take a shot at any thing he could see, and though there were not very many creatures round us, yet there were more when you locjked for them than you would otherwise have thought. The woodpeckers were the strangest to us among them all. They would come quite near us, running up and down the trunks of the trees in every way, as flies run over a window-pane. There were three or four kinds : one, the rarest, known by being partly yellow ; another, by the feathers on its back having a strange hairy-like look ; the third was a smaller bird, about six inches long, but otherwise like its hairy relation ; the fourth, and commonest, was the red-headed woodpecker. This one gets its name from the beautiful crimson of its head and neck, and the contrast of this bright color with the black and white of its body and wings, and with its black tail, makes it look very pretty. They would light on stumps of trees close to iis, running round to the other side till we passed, if we came very close, and then reappearing the next instant. They kept up a constant tap, tap, tapping w^ith their heavy 6* b6 Woodjjeckei's. 6ills on the bark of any tree on Avliicli they happen to alight, running up the trunk, and stop})ing every muiute with their tail resting on the bark to sup- port them, and hammering as if for the mere love of the noise. Every grub or insect they thus dis- covered, was, in a moment, cauglit on their tongue, which was thrust out for the purpose. Henry shot one of them, after missing pretty often, fur we were just beginning sliooting as well as every thing else, and we brought it to the house to let my sis- ters see it, and to have another look at it ourselves. Being a bit of an ornithologist, he pointed out to us how the toes were four in number — two before and two behind — and how they were spread out to give the creature as firm hold as possible of the sui*face on which it was climbing, and how its tail was shaped like a wedge, and the feathers very strong, to prop it uj) while at work. Then there was the great iieavy head and heavy bill, with the long thin neck, putting me in mind of a stone- breaker's hammer, with the thin handle and the heavy top. But its tongue was, perhaps, the most curious part of the whole. There were two long, arched, tendon-like things, which reached from the tongue round the skull, and passed quite over it down to the root of the bill at the nostrils ; and, in- side the wide circle thus made, a muscle, fixed at its two ends, provided the means of thrusting out the tongue with amazinji; swiftness and to a o;rcat length, just as you may move forward the top of a ChitmimJcs. 67 fisliiiig-rod in an instant by pulling the line which runs from the tip tu the reel. My brother Robert, who was of a religious disposition, could not help telling us, when we had seen all this, that he thought it just another proof of the wonderful wis- dom and goodness of God, to see how every thing was adapted to its particular end. One little creature used to give us a creat deal of amusement and plc^asure. It was what Nisbet called a chitmunk, the right name of it being the grouiul-squirrel. It was a squirrel in every respect, except that, instead of the great bushy tail turned u]) over the ba-^k, it had a rounded hairy one, which was short and straight, and was only twitched u]) and down. The little things were to be seen every now and then on any old log, that marked where a tree had fallen long before. The moment we looked at them they would stare at us with their great black eyes, and, if we moved, they were into some hole in the log, or over the back of it, and out of sight in an instant. We all felt kindly dis- posed toward them, and never tried to shoot them. I suppose they were looking for nuts on the ground, as they feed largely on them, and carry off a great many, as well as stores of other food, in little cheek- pouches which they have, that they may be pro- vided for in winter. They do not make their houses, like the other squirrels, in holes in the trees, but dig burrows in the woods, under logs, or in hillocks of earth, or at the roots of the trees, form- 68 TJie Blue Jay. \\\