The rural districts of Trois Rivières, so far as they lie northward of the St. Lawrence, form a continuation of the same kind of territory as that below, and are in general flatter, and capable of more uniform cultivation. To the westward, especially in ascending the river, it presents a succession of flourishing settlements and gay villages, occurring every eight or nine miles. These extend, particularly along the Lake of St. Peter, a wide expansion of the St. Lawrence, about twenty-five miles long, and from five to ten broad, but its depth in many places does not exceed twelve feet. Hence the intricate channels, through which alone large vessels can be navigated, must be marked by poles or other beacons. The shores are extremely flat, but numerous verdant islands enliven the western extremity, which also mark the boundary of the provinces. Near the eastern frontier, the Batiscan, with a village of the same name at its mouth, falls into the great river.

The district of Montreal, if not the most extensive in Lower Canada, is, at least, that which contains the greatest portion of valuable land. Commencing at the western boundary of Trois Rivières, it extends along the St. Lawrence, but in that direction terminates where Upper Canada begins, not far above the capital. It shoots, however, a long branch of the Ottawa, embracing all the northern bank of that river, till it is bounded along with the Lower Province, by Lake Temiscaming. This district, on the north of the St. Lawrence, comprehends the counties of Montreal, Berthier, Lachenaye, L’Assomption, Terrebonne, Two Mountains, Vaudreuil, and Ottawa, containing a population of 147,649. Another portion, nearly equally valuable, lies on the south side, and will be afterwards described.

Montreal, the chief town in this district, though not ranking as a capital, is equal to Quebec in magnitude, and superior in commercial importance. Its greatness is likely to increase, from its favourable situation, and the growing prosperity of Upper Canada, of which, as being the highest point of the St. Lawrence to which vessels of the first class can ascend, it always continues the emporium.

The site of this town does not present those bold and grand features which distinguish the Canadian metropolis, though its beauty can scarcely be surpassed. The river, in this finest part of its course, divides itself into two channels, inclosing an island thirty-two miles long and ten and a half broad, which forms one of the most favoured spots on earth. The soil, everywhere luxuriant, is cultivated like one great garden, to supply the inhabitants with vegetables and fruit. These last are of the finest quality, and the apples especially are said to display that superiority which so remarkably distinguishes them in the New World. Although the island possesses in general that level surface that fits it for a thorough cultivation, yet about a mile and a half north-east rises a hill, 550 feet high, commanding a noble view over the fertile country, which is watered by the several branches and tributaries of the St. Lawrence. Its face is covered with agreeable villas, and its wooded heights form a frequent resort to pleasure parties from the city; but the intention now understood to be entertained of erecting fortifications on its summit, will, if put into execution, banish in a great measure its rural character.

The city, built on the southern border of this fine island, is not crowded like Quebec into a limited space, which can alone be covered with streets and habitations. It has a wide level surface to extend over, so that even the older streets are of tolerable breadth, and several of them occupy its entire length. The principal one, Rue Notre Dame, considerably exceeds half a mile in extent, and contains many of the chief public buildings. There is an upper and lower town, though the difference of elevation is very slight; but the former is much the more handsome of the two. The seven suburbs are not, as in the older capital, detached and extraneous, but on the same level, and immediately adjacent. Their streets, continued in the direction of those in the body of the place, are regular, and display many handsome houses. The vicinity is adorned with beautiful villas.

The Cathedral, Montreal.

Of the public edifices, the new catholic cathedral, completed in 1829, is undoubtedly the most splendid, and is, in fact, superior to any other in British America. Its style is a species of Gothic; it is 255 feet 6 inches in length, and 134 feet 6 inches in breadth. The flanks rise 61 feet above the terrace, and there are six towers, of which the three belonging to the main front are 220 feet high. It is faced with excellent stone, and roofed with tin. The principal window is 64 feet in height, and 32 broad. On the roof has been formed a promenade, 76 feet by 20, elevated 120 feet, and commanding a most delightful view. The interior contains 1244 pews, equal to the accommodation of at least 10,000 persons. There are five public and three private entrances to the first floor, and four to the galleries, so disposed that this vast congregation can easily assemble and disperse in a few minutes. The building comprises seven chapels, all visible from the front entrance, and nine spacious aisles. The high altar bears a resemblance to that at St. Peter’s at Rome, the pulpit to that of the cathedral at Strasburg. The large window is painted, but not in good style; it is intended that it shall be filled hereafter with stained glass. The other catholic edifices belong mostly to the order of St. Sulpice, by whose members, as formerly mentioned, Montreal was chiefly founded, and who hold the superiority of the whole island upon which it stands. Their seminary, which is a large and commodious building adjoining the cathedral, occupies three sides of a square, 132 feet long by 90 deep, and is surrounded by spacious gardens. To extend its benefits, the order have lately, at an expense of 10,000l., erected a handsome additional building, 210 feet by 45. In these establishments, the numerous students, attending all the branches of learning and philosophy, are taught at very moderate charges. There are two large nunneries; the principal one, called the Congregation of Notre Dame, contains a superior and sixty sisters, who receive boarders at a low rate, and send teachers to different parts of the district. The Sœurs Gris (Grey Sisters) consist of a superior and twenty-four nuns, who admit into their spacious apartments the infirm poor, and are said to treat them with great humanity. The Hôtel Dieu is a large conventual structure, occupied by a superior and thirty-six nuns, and is also appropriated to the reception of the sick and indigent. Its utility is limited by the smallness of its funds, notwithstanding occasional grants from the legislature. The Monastery of the Recollets, which occupies extensive grounds at the end of Notre Dame-street, is now demolished, though its church is still used for public worship.

Interior of the Cathedral, Montreal.

The English establishments, both for religion and education, are also very respectable. The Episcopal church in the street just named, is a very handsome specimen of modern architecture, and is surmounted by a lofty spire. The Scotch church is plain, but attended by a highly respectable congregation. In 1814, a most important donation was made by a wealthy individual—the Hon. James M^cGill—to found a college for the principal branches of education. The endowments consist of a valuable estate at the Mountain, with 10,000l. in money. It has not, however, yet come into operation, in consequence of a law-suit, which did not terminate till 1835, when the available funds in the hands of the institution amounted to 22,000l. It is to be conducted on the most liberal system,—individuals of every religious persuasion being admitted as students, and even as teachers. There is a Natural History Society and a Mechanics’ Institution, whose labours have been meritorious. The private establishments for education are also respectable. The limited means of the Hôtel Dieu are amply compensated by the more ample income of the Montreal General Hospital, which was built in 1821-2 by voluntary subscription, at an expense of nearly 6000l. It is said to be one of the best regulated institutions of the kind in America.

The harbour of Montreal does not seem to have received all the attention which its importance merits. It is somewhat confined, and has no wharfage, though close to the bank, in front of the town, is a depth of fifteen feet, sufficient for the largest vessels which ascend to this point. Its chief disadvantage consists in two shoals, and in the Rapid of St. Mary’s, about a mile below, which vessels often find it difficult to stem. Important improvements are now contemplated, and a grant for the purpose has been even voted by the legislature. The communication with the opposite sides of the river is carried on by means of ten ferries, on several of which ply a number of steam-vessels. A wooden bridge was once constructed from Repentigny, on the northern shore, but in the spring after its completion it was carried down by the masses of ice. It is still thought that one of larger span might be constructed free from that danger.

In considering the rural districts of Montreal, so far as they extend northward of the St. Lawrence, we shall begin with the tract reaching down to the province of Trois Rivières. It presents an aspect similar to that of the whole coast from Quebec, but still more level, and also more fertile and populous. It forms one uninterrupted succession of flourishing settlements with villages, on a larger scale than in the lower districts. Berthier, with 850 inhabitants, on a branch of the St. Lawrence, called the North Channel, is a great thoroughfare, being midway between Trois Rivières and Montreal, and supplying a variety of goods to the neighbouring seigniories. St. Eustache, on the channel called Jesus, or St. Jean, which seems to be a joint branch of the St. Lawrence and Ottawa, commands the route to the territories on the latter river; and, before the recent insurrection, had a considerable traffic, and a population of fully a thousand. The Isle Jesus, separated from the main land by this channel, extends parallel to that of Montreal for the space of twenty-one miles, and is six at its greatest breadth. It is throughout level, fertile, and highly cultivated; the original forest being almost entirely extirpated, except for ornament and fuel. In this quarter, on the small lake of the Two Mountains, are a couple of villages belonging to the Algonquins and Iroquois, containing altogether about two hundred houses.

Timber Slide at “Les Chats.”
(Upper Canada.)

The portion of Montreal district on the St. Lawrence extends to Pointe au Baudet, fifty-five miles above the capital, where it meets the boundary of Upper Canada. This tract, between the St. Lawrence and the Ottawa, forms the county of Vaudreuil; it is level, diversified only by a few gentle hills, and is also very fruitful. Vaudreuil and Rigaud are only villages; the chief importance being attached to the places which lie on the river. La Chine is about eight miles above Montreal, where the navigation is interrupted by the fall of St. Louis, to obviate which, the fine canal, bearing its name, has been erected, at an expense of 137,000l. This village, which originally received its appellation from the chimerical idea that it would afford a route to China, stills forms an important point in the navigation both of the St. Lawrence and the Ottawa, near whose junction it is situated. About twelve miles farther up, at the village of Pointe des Cascades, commences a series of formidable cataracts, which, with little interruption, extend about nine miles. There is nowhere any high fall; but the stream, filled with hidden rocks and covered with breakers, dashes like the waves of a tempestuous ocean. Yet the rafts, the Durham boats, and bateaux constructed for the purpose, can, under skilful guidance, be safely piloted through these dangerous rapids. The crews, however, are often obliged to unload the most bulky part of their cargo, and have it conveyed by land. Steam navigation, which ceases at one end of this obstruction, is resumed at the other; and the village of the Cedars, situated opposite to the rapids of the same name, is the chief depot for the land-passage. It commands a magnificent view of the foaming billows, and of the barks which steer through them their perilous course.

The Ottawa province, extending about 350 miles along the northern bank of that great river, forms, as it were, a very extensive wing, detached from the district and from Lower Canada, while the upper province extends opposite to it along the southern bank. Thus the boundary between these two territories, which at first runs due north, as soon as it strikes the Ottawa stretches first north-west, and then almost due west. This extensive tract is as yet by no means occupied or improved in proportion to its natural capabilities. The numerous obstacles to the navigation, though now in part removed, have doubtless greatly retarded its settlement.

The Lac des Allumettes.

The upper part of the river beyond the falls and Portage des Allumettes, is used by the fur-traders, who have a post also in Lake Temiscaming, more than 350 miles above the junction of the Ottawa with the St. Lawrence; but this tract has never been surveyed, nor even accurately described. Up to the Portage, it is regularly frequented by the lumberers, who find valuable supplies of pine and oak, which they contrive to float down in rafts, through all obstructions. At the Allumettes the stream separates into two channels, enclosing an island fifteen miles long, and forming three small lakes, called the Allumettes, the Mud, and the Musk Rat. On the latter is one solitary farm, said to be in a prosperous condition. Eight miles below the junction of these channels is Fort Coulange, where the Hudson’s Bay Company have a post, near which is one well-cultivated settlement. Four or five miles down, another division of the stream forms an island of about twenty miles long; but the two channels are much impeded by falls and rapids. The northern, which is the more practicable, has four portages within a few miles of the port of junction, and there is another five miles below it. The falls are not above eight or ten feet high, but they are much broken by masses of rock, and have a very wild appearance.

Junction of the Ottawa and St. Lawrence.
(near Cedars.)

For ten miles downwards the stream is beautifully diversified by wooded islands, through which it rushes with various degrees of violence. The banks, great part of the way, consist of white marble, somewhat soft and coarse; but farther inland, it is believed, a superior description would be found. At the end of this tract, Bisset’s chantier, a solitary log-house, with a few cleared acres, relieves the eye after the monotony of these vast solitudes; it affords also a welcome asylum to the fur and timber traders. Soon after, the view opens upon the magnificent expanse of the Lake des Chats, about fifteen miles long, studded with richly-wooded islets. On the south are one or two scattered mansions, and particularly Kinnell Lodge, the residence of the Highland chieftain, M^cNab. The northern side appears uninhabited; yet at a little distance from the beach is the settlement of Clarendon, formed in 1829, and in 1831 containing 257 inhabitants. The township of Bristol, in 1828, presented only a few poor hovels and 31 settlers, which number had, in 1831, increased to 96, and in 1836 to not less than 445. At length the lake suddenly contracts, and the rapids of the Chats, for three miles, dash in violent eddies, amid a labyrinth of islands. They terminate in the Falls des Chats, fifteen or sixteen in number, extending in a curved line across the river, and divided by wooded islands; but only from sixteen to twenty feet high. The northern coast, having a rocky and uneven surface, forms the township of Onslow, which in 1836 had 150 settlers.

Portage des Chats.

Falls of the Ottawa at Les Chats.

About six miles below this point commences Lake Chaudière, an expanse eighteen miles long, and, like the former, terminating in rapids, succeeded by falls. These last, called the Great and Little Chaudière (Kettle), are on a larger scale, 60 feet high and 212 broad. The descending torrent, striking on a great circular rock, is thrown up in clouds of spray, which conceal the bottom of the fall, and often rise in revolving columns high above its summit. A great portion of the water being unaccounted for, is believed to escape through subterraneous channels. Immediately below, where the stream still rolls in rapid eddies, a bridge has been thrown across. The difficulties of the undertaking were overcome by dividing the structure into four parts, consisting of different materials. The broadest span is stretched by means of a hempen fabric, composed of three-inch cables, forming an inverted segment of a circle, the lowest point of which is only seven feet above the torrent. But at no time can it be passed without a feeling of peril.

A Shanty on Lake Chaudière.
(Canada)

The Owls Head.
(Lake Memphremagog.)

The township of Onslow is followed by that of Eardley, extending along Lake Chaudière, and having much excellent land, which is very imperfectly occupied by 200 persons. Below is Hull, the most flourishing of all the upper settlements on the Ottawa. Its front towards the river is level or gently undulating; but it rises behind into hills, some 900 feet high, yet finely wooded, or affording good pasturage. It is watered by the large river Gatineau, and contains valuable mines of iron and quarries of marble. This township was surveyed by Philemon Wright, an American loyalist, who in 1806 obtained a grant of 12,000 acres of it for himself and his associates. Having, by his pecuniary advances, secured the exclusive property of the greater portion, as well as of large tracts in neighbouring townships, he has become a most extensive landowner. By great exertions he has rendered it extremely flourishing, and has led the way in all the measures now taking for the improvement of this fine district. The town of Wright, situated immediately opposite to the great Rideau Canal, must rapidly grow in importance. Its population is already considerable, and it contains a neat church and comfortable hotel. The Chaudière Falls and the bridge immediately adjoin it.

Bridge at Bytown, Upper Canada.

The Rideau Canal, Bytown.

Locks on the Rideau Canal.
(near Bytown)

From this point to Grenville, sixty miles distant, the Ottawa affords an uninterrupted navigation for steam vessels. The township of Hull is succeeded by those of Templeton, Buckingham, and Lochaber. Large tracts were here granted to different proprietors, who unfortunately have not taken due pains to increase their value; and the space for new settlers has been further narrowed by the crown and clergy reserves. Steps, however, are taking to induce the owners either to improve or renounce their possessions, and to arrange the preserves on such a principle, that they may not interrupt the continuity of settlement. The population of all three, which in 1828 little exceeded 300, has since been greatly augmented. Buckingham, in 1831, contained 570; Lochaber, 236; Templeton, in 1836, supposed 390. La Petite Nation, a seigniory early formed, but as yet only partially settled, acquired a considerable accession of Irish emigrants, through the exertions of M. Papineau, the seignior, who erected extensive saw-mills on its eastern border. It has now 826 settlers.

The Ottawa River at Bytown.

The township of Grenville, which next follows, may be considered as commencing the densely-peopled portion of Lower Canada. This is not owing to its fertility, which is much impeded by the interruption of hilly ground, connected with the lofty range which traverses the interior. A branch from this gives rise to the rugged cataract named the Long Sault, which can be passed only by the most skilful voyageurs; and obstructions continue to occur as far as Point Fortune, where the river, opening into the Lake of the Two Mountains, becomes united with the St. Lawrence. To remedy this evil, a fine canal, called the Grenville, which will be more fully described afterwards, has been formed. Numerous individuals employed on this work have settled and taken farms in the township, which by these means had acquired, in 1836, a population estimated at 1450. Below is Chatham, which, through exertions commenced in 1806 by Colonel Robertson, Dr. Fraser, and others, has become one of the most flourishing settlements. Though traversed by some naked hills, it has extensive level tracts, and the public road is every where bordered by thriving farms and handsome dwelling-houses, built of brick. The population in 1831 was 2604. Chatham Gore, a rising township, has already 473, all Irish protestants. Here the Ottawa country terminates, Chatham being bounded by Argenteuil, the first of that range of old French settlements which extend along the river as far as Quebec.

Mill on the Rideau River, near Bytown.

CHAP. II.

QUEBEC AND ITS NEIGHBOURHOOD.

The district of Quebec occupies the whole coast watered by the gulf and river of St. Lawrence, from the eastern limit of the colony to the mouth of the river St. Anne, about thirty miles below Trois Rivières; and thence, in a direct line, to the northern boundary. The greater part of this extensive section belongs to the uncultivated portion of the country, and presents a chaos of mountains, lakes, and torrents, tenanted only by wild beasts and a few wandering Indians. At Cape Tourment, however, it begins to give place to a tract of a much more pleasing character; and though still traversed by rugged eminences, it contains much fertile land, which is described as being at once romantic and beautiful. On the northern side of the St. Lawrence it is divided into the counties of Quebec, Montmorency, Orleans, and Port Neuf, and comprised, in 1831, a population of 56,615.

Church at Point Levi.

In the midst of this fine landscape stands Quebec, the capital of British America, it is seated on a promontory stretching out into the river, which, by means of it and Point Levi on the opposite side, is narrowed to about three quarters of a mile, though immediately below it spreads out into a wide basin. Cape Diamond, the most elevated point of the city, is reckoned by an eminent traveller 1000 feet high; a proof of the fallacious nature of such estimates, since the more accurate observations of Bouchette fixes it at 345. Above a hundred feet lower is an elevated plain, on which are built the castle and the whole of what is termed the upper town. Thence a perpendicular steep of above 200 feet descends to the banks of the St. Lawrence; and in the narrow interval between this precipice and the river is the lower town, the crowded seat of business and shipping.

The scenery of Quebec and the surrounding country is described by all travellers as rivaling in picturesque beauty the most favoured parts of the earth. The navigator who ascends the St. Lawrence, after he has passed the Isle of Orleans, and entered the broad basin already mentioned, where he first comes in sight of this capital, is struck with intense admiration. He sees its citadel crowning a lofty cliff, its castle and batteries overhanging a range of formidable steeps, the river crowded with numerous vessels of every form and size, from the huge timber-raft to the bark canoe. The fall of Montmorency appears dashing its white foam almost to the clouds, and on each side is a long range of fertile and beautiful shore. On ascending Cape Diamond, a still grander and more extensive panorama bursts upon his view, combining all the boldness of rude with the richness of cultivated nature. Up and down the magnificent stream of the St. Lawrence is a reach of more than forty miles, on which sails almost innumerable are in ceaseless movement. Below is the beautiful Isle of Orleans, while the opposite coast is diversified by a great variety of natural and cultivated scenery. To the north appears the river St. Charles, winding amid fertile valleys and hills, with villages hanging on their sides, while the prospect is closed by a bold screen of mountains. Mr. Weld prefers the views from the upper town, where, though fewer objects are seen, they appear more distinct and brilliant. This traveller, after visiting a great part of Europe and America, gives to them a preference over every thing he had observed on either continent. Mr. M^cGregor considers them similar, but much superior, to those from the castles of Edinburgh and Stirling.

The Citadel of Quebec.

Quebec, from its situation and the care with which it has been fortified, is a very strong town, and considered the chief bulwark of British America. On the summit of the lofty headland just described stands the citadel. The rock consists of gray granite mixed with quartz crystals, and a species of dark-coloured slate. About forty acres are here covered with works, carried to the edge of the precipice, and connected by massive walls and batteries with the other defences of the place. The main body of the fortress, however, consists of the upper town, whose fortifications enclose a circuit of about two miles and three quarters. The face of the hill towards the river is so precipitous, that it requires only a common wall to protect it, though the gate leading from the lower town is defended by heavy cannon, and the steep approach by Mountain-street is enfiladed and flanked by many guns of large calibre. As the declivity towards the interior and the Plains of Abraham does not present the same abrupt face, but descends by successive ridges, it has been strengthened by a series of regular works, including ditch, covered way, and glacis, with some exterior defences to obstruct the approach of an enemy. It seems probable, therefore, that the place would hold out against any attack, till the approach of the rigorous winter should compel the assailants to raise the siege.

The upper town, which these fortifications enclose, forms the chief part of Quebec, and the residence of all the principal inhabitants not engaged in trade. It is a tolerably handsome old-looking town; the houses being mostly of stone, partly roofed with tin. The streets are well paved, and in some instances macadamized, but they are much too narrow, as the broadest does not exceed thirty-two feet. St. Louis-street, the almost exclusive residence of the fashionable circle, has been lately adorned with several elegant mansions. The public buildings are commodious and substantial, without much pretension to architectural ornament. The Castle of St. Louis, a large, plain baronial-looking edifice, forms the dwelling of the Governor. It comprises a space of four acres, once fortified; but the great extension of the works has rendered its walls superfluous, and they are allowed to go to decay. The apartments are large and commodious, and the veranda commands a magnificent vista up the river. Adjoining is a spacious structure, once occupied by government offices, now chiefly employed for public entertainments. The enclosure contains two excellent and well-cultivated gardens.

Of religious edifices the chief is the Roman Catholic cathedral, being 216 feet long by 180 in breadth, and capable of containing a congregation of 4000. The interior has a lofty and solemn aspect, but the outside is heavy and not in very good taste. There are several other Catholic churches. The English cathedral, though smaller, being only 136 feet long by 75 broad, and in a simple style, is considered extremely neat. The Scotch church is much inferior. The monastic establishments are spacious. The Hôtel-Dieu, founded in 1637 by the Duchess d’Aiguillon, includes a convent, church and courtyard, besides cemetery and gardens. The range of buildings is extensive, but without any ornament; and its chief use is as an hospital, in which respect it affords the greatest benefit to the colony. A prioress and thirty-two nuns are continually employed in ministering to the sick, with a great degree of attention and skill: hence Government have been induced to make occasional grants in addition to the considerable revenues attached to the establishment. The Ursuline Convent is a neat building, in the heart of the city, surrounded by fine gardens. It was founded, in 1639, by Madame de la Peltrie, chiefly for the purposes of education. The inmates, forty-six in number, observe a somewhat rigid seclusion, but they instruct, in reading, writing, and needlework, a certain number of girls, comprehending even Protestants. They are very assiduous in embroidery and other ornamental works, especially for ecclesiastical vestments; and the fruits of their industry are often sold at high prices, which are thrown into the common stock. The spacious monastery of the Jesuits, 224 feet by 200, surrounded by noble gardens, was forfeited on the suppression of that order, and at the conquest was regarded as crown property. It was then converted into a place of exercise for the troops, and, to the regret of many, its fine trees were cut down, but the legislature of the province have lately petitioned for its being restored to its original purpose of education. The large edifice, called the Seminary, with an extensive domain attached to it, was founded, in 1663, by M. de Petré, with a view to the instruction of the Catholic clergy. It is now open to all students of that persuasion, who are initiated in the different branches of knowledge upon paying the trifling sum of five shillings annually to defray incidental expenses. Pupils, indeed, may be boarded as well as taught for 12l. 10s. a year.

The buildings employed for public purposes are ample and commodious, though mostly reared for different objects. The bishop’s palace formed an extremely elegant residence, with a chapel and many conveniences; but, in return for an annuity, it was relinquished, and now accommodates the two branches of the legislature. About the year 1803, a very handsome house was erected by a joint stock company, in the best situation the town afforded, with the view of being employed as an hotel. This plan, however, being abandoned, it was sold to the chief justice, and is now leased at 500l. a year by government, who give it up to the use of their chief civil departments. It contains also the museum of the Literary and Historical Society, founded in 1824, and which, in 1829, was united to that for the promotion of arts and sciences. The collection is said to be valuable, in regard to mineralogy and botany. There is a Library also, though only in its infancy. The artillery barracks form a long range of building, somewhat roughly constructed, but substantial and convenient. The Armoury contains equipments for 20,000 men, and, being extremely well arranged, excites the admiration of strangers.

The Market Place, Quebec.

The market is held in an open space, 250 feet long, with a breadth in some places of about 165. A large building with stalls has been reared in the centre, though the chief business is still transacted on the open ground. It is held every day, but Saturday is the busiest. The crowds of carters, with their wives and families, bringing in the productions of the surrounding country, their brawlings and vociferations in bad French and broken English, form a scene of noise and confusion, amid which appear a few Indian squaws, and the gentlemen of the city and garrison going round to make purchases. Every kind of provision is abundant and cheap, except fish, which is less plentiful than might be expected from the situation. Among public places may also be mentioned the Grand Parade in front of the castle, surrounded by the most distinguished edifices; and also the Esplanade, a large level space along the interior wall, which is the chief theatre for military exercises.

The lower town is a narrow crowded range of buildings, extending along the base of the precipice. The spot on which it stands is entirely the creation of human industry; for, originally, the waves at high water beat the very foot of the rock. Wharfs, however, have been founded, and carried out into the river, though nowhere farther than 240 yards, and on these streets have been erected. So limited, indeed, is the space, that the quarter beyond Cape Diamond communicates with the rest only by a path cut in many places through the solid rock. This part of Quebec is compared to the most irregular and confused districts of Edinburgh. It is connected with the upper town by what is called Mountain-street, which formerly was not passable for carriages without extreme difficulty, but has of late been much improved. The Breakneck-stairs, as they are denominated, are more commodious for foot passengers. Besides extensive wharfs, the lower town contains the Quebec bank, which, in addition to apartments for its appropriate purpose, has others for a fire assurance company, and a subscription library, the most extensive and valuable in Canada. The government warehouses are all spacious, and the custom-house having been found inconvenient, the foundation-stone of a new one was laid in 1831. Amid wharfs lately formed on the flat beach of the St. Charles, has been erected the exchange building, an elegant structure, containing a spacious reading room, and several others devoted to commercial purposes. Projects are in contemplation for erecting a pier, which would also serve as a bridge across the estuary; an improvement, which, while it would afford ample space for the extension of the lower town, would enable the largest vessels and rafts to lie in security, instead of resorting, as at present, to caves in the neighbourhood.

On the inland side of the fortress, stretching more than a mile into the interior, are the large suburbs of St. Roche and St. Johns. They are built regularly, but chiefly of wood, and with accommodations suited only to the lower ranks; though of late, indeed, they have been adorned with many stone houses of a superior class. There is also a smaller suburb, named St. Louis.

Timber Depot near Quebec.

Quebec maintains a constant communication with Point Levi on the opposite shore, whence it derives a great part of its provisions. A steam ferry-boat plies every half hour, making the trip in about ten or fifteen minutes. The navigation also being very properly left free, the river is constantly covered with numerous canoes, generally hollowed out from the trunks of trees. The boatmen brave the most tempestuous weather; and, though often driven several leagues out of their course, are scarcely ever wrecked. Even in winter, when they must encounter blocks of ice, with which the channel is encumbered, they contrive with ropes and iron-pointed poles to raise their vessels upon the surface of the masses, and drag them along till they find open water on which to launch it. When this channel is frozen entirely over, the communication becomes still more easy. A line is marked with beacons placed by the Grand Voyer, over which hay, firewood, with other bulky articles, are transported abundantly and at reduced prices. This advantage occurs only occasionally; but every year the channel between the Isle of Orleans and the northern coast is frozen over, when the produce of that fertile spot, reserved for the occasion, finds a ready conveyance. Formerly, milk and vegetables were brought in a frozen state from distant quarters, but now these commodities are procured in abundance from the neighbourhood.

The society of Quebec is more gay and polished than is usual in colonial cities, where the pursuit of wealth forms too often the sole object of the inhabitants. Here, besides merchants, there are a number of British civil and military officers, and a body of French noblesse, living on their domains. These different classes do not, it is said, always thoroughly amalgamate. The French, though often superior in manners and habits, are in some degree disdained by the ruling people, which they do not well brook. Among the English themselves, the chief test of rank is an introduction at the castle, without which strangers will find themselves placed below those whom they would have been classed above in the mother country. The hotels are good, and, after the fashion of the United States, the inmates commonly dine at a table d’hôte, which often affords to the visitor the opportunity of meeting with interesting characters. He can, however, if he wishes, have private apartments.

The cultivated country northward of Quebec does not extend far, being closely hemmed in by the range of mountains, and settlement being obstructed through the very imperfect titles by which alone the land can be conveyed. Immediately westward, in front of the fortification, are the Plains of Abraham, memorable as the scene whereon Quebec was gained by the gallant Wolfe, and whence only it can be successfully assailed. The summit, indeed, is 330 feet high, which does all but command the loftiest pinnacle on which Fort Diamond stands. As some security against this danger, four martello towers have been so placed as to range over the whole plain. Immediately to the north, a road leads along the heights to the village of St. Foix, and to the beautifully secluded dingle of Sillery, about four leagues in length and one in breadth, formerly the seat of a missionary settlement, which we shall have occasion again to mention. In the same direction from the suburb of St. Roch is the Huron village of Lorette, near the banks of the river St. Charles, which in this neighbourhood forms a beautiful cascade. Onward still, twelve miles from Quebec, is the lake of the same name, about four miles long and one broad. It is divided into two parts by projecting ledges, and the upper one especially is finely diversified by rocks, woods, bays, hills, and lofty mountains in the distance.

Crossing the St. Charles, and going eastward through the agreeable village of Beauport, we reach the Falls of Montmorency, one of the most picturesque objects in all America. They do not, indeed, pour down that immense flood of water which renders Niagara so wonderful; but the height is greater, being 240 feet, and the stream descends the whole of this vast steep in one white sheet of foam. It is received into a vast basin, whence arise clouds of vapour that display the most brilliant tints of the rainbow. M. Bouchette imagines that even Switzerland, though it contains much loftier falls, has none which descend in so unbroken a mass. He overlooks, we think, the Staubbach, whose stream, however, is less copious than that of Montmorency. In winter, when the falling waters congeal into icicles, these accumulate above each other, till they, on some occasions, swell to an amazing magnitude, and present a most curious spectacle. About fifty years ago General Haldimand, then governor of Canada, built a house close to the fall, and commanding a most advantageous view of it. This was afterwards occupied by the Duke of Kent, and is now the residence of Mr. Paterson, who has erected upon the river an extensive range of saw-mills.

CHAP. III.

EASTERN TOWNSHIPS.

The county of Sherbrooke embraces the greater part of the district of St. Francis, immediately south of Trois Rivières, to which it is often considered as attached. Being quite beyond the range of the Seigniories, it has been divided into twenty-nine townships, which include much valuable land. It presents in general a broken and varied surface, sometimes rising into mountains clothed with fine timber, is well watered, yet not so encumbered with swamps as the more western districts. The only part hitherto settled is that adjoining to Stanstead in Montreal; but the British American Land Company expect soon to diffuse culture over the whole. Orford, indeed, the first on this side, is so mountainous as to be almost unfit for improvement, and contains only 320 inhabitants. But the west, Ascot, with 1,800, Compton to the south, with 2,020, and Eaton to the east, with 1,500, are in general very fine, with an undulating surface, and commodiously watered by streams well adapted for mills. The first contains Sherbrooke, the county town, where the commerce of the neighbouring settlements chiefly centres. It contains about 350 inhabitants, with three places of worship and a woollen manufactory; and the Land Company have lately made it the centre of their operations. They have undertaken a new road to Port St. Francis, whereby the distance will be reduced to seventy miles, and have likewise established a stage conveyance between the two places, by which the journey is performed in one day. They have also improved the roads to Quebec and Montreal, from each of which it is about 100 miles distant. In Eaton and Compton are rising villages bearing the same names. South from Eaton, Clifton and Newport, though hilly, contain much good land; yet in 1831 their united population was only 188.

Mills at Sherbrooke, on the River Magog.

Bridge at Sherbrooke.
(Eastern Townships.)

The north-western part of the county includes Melbourne, with 1,280 settlers, and Shipton, on the Nicolet, with 1,900. The two are considered the finest of all the St. Francis townships, and their population is rapidly increasing. Shipton contains Richmond, a village of some consequence, and another is rapidly rising in Melbourne. Windsor and Stoke are represented as possessing almost equal advantages; yet they have drawn little attention, the former containing only 220 settlers, the latter scarcely any. Brompton, west from these, though uneven and rocky, has some good tracts, which have drawn 350 inhabitants; while Dudswell, east of Windsor, which has also a variegated surface, can boast of 342.

The whole south-eastern part of this large county, containing the townships of Garthby, Strafford, Whitton, Adstock, Marston, Chesham, Emberton, Hampden, and Bury, with certain portions of Weedon, Singwick, Ditton, Auckland, and Hereford, composes the great block purchased by the Land Company. It had not been previously surveyed, and was occupied only by detached individuals, who had availed themselves of its neglected situation to squat upon it. Its surface is very varied. The central part, according to a recent report, appears too mountainous to invite settlement; but from this height it slopes down in various directions to the St. Francis, to its tributary the Salmon, and to Lake Megantie. These lower declivities are richly wooded, and well fitted for a mixed system of corn and pasture farming. The Salmon river, which traverses in a northerly direction nearly the whole district, has beautiful and fertile banks, one part of which, about ten miles long, from its luxuriant verdure is called “The Meadows.” This river, as well as numerous little streams which flow into it, is rapid and broken by falls, unfit for navigation, but convenient for mills. Here the Company have determined to begin their settlement; and about half a mile from the principal fall they have founded a village, named Victoria. During the summer of 1836 several hundred labourers were employed by them in forming a road between it and Sherbrooke.

Pass of Bolton, Eastern Townships.

Scene on the River St. Francis near Sherbrooke.
(Eastern Townships.)

The tracts on this side of the river belonging to the district of Quebec, embrace a great extent of coast; but the settlements do not extend far into the interior. The possession of a portion, too, amounting to 6,400,000 acres, is still under discussion with the United States. This division consists of the counties of Beance, Belle-chasse, Dorchester, Kamouraska, L’Islet, Lotbinière, Megantie, and Rimouski, which contain a population of 87,700. The aspect of the territory, as compared with the western, is decidedly bold and hilly, though not mountainous, as on the opposite shore. The land generally stretches in irregular ridges, which, at from ten to twenty miles inland, swell into a broad table land, that slopes down to the river St. John. Between these ridges, however, intervene valleys, and even extensive plains, many of which, from the encouragement afforded by the markets of the capital, have been brought into very tolerable cultivation. The territory is watered by numerous rivers, full and rapid, though, from being closely hemmed in by high land on the south, they have not so long a course as those farther west. The principal are the Chaudière, Du Sud, St. Anne, Ouelle, Green River, Rimouski, Great Mitis, and Matane. In ascending the St. Lawrence, the views along the valleys marked out by these streams and the heights by which they are bounded, are singularly grand and picturesque.

Orford Mountain.
(Eastern Townships.)

The tract watered by the Chaudière, the largest of these rivers, and comprising the county of Beance, is hilly and broken, the soil light, and in some places stony, yet on the whole fertile, and the vicinity of the capital has led to its careful cultivation. It derives very great advantages also from the Kennebeck road, leading from Quebec to Boston, and completed in 1830, by which its agricultural produce is conveyed to a good market, and large supplies of live stock transported. The fall on the Chaudière forms one of the most picturesque objects in America. If it does not equal the grandeur of Niagara and Montmorency, it possesses features more interesting than either. The river is here narrowed to the breadth of between 300 and 400 feet, and the height does not exceed 130. It descends, too, not in one continuous sheet, but is broken by projecting rocks into three channels, which, however, unite before reaching the basin below. Nothing, therefore, is on the same great scale as in its two rivals; yet it surpasses both in the magnificent forests by which it is overhung, whose dark foliage, varied and contrasted by the white foam of the cataracts, produces the most striking effects. These are heightened by the deep and hollow sound of the waters, and the clouds of spray, which, when illumined by the sun, exhibit the most brilliant variety of prismatic colours. A succession of rapids for some space upwards displays a continuation of the same bold and beautiful scenery.

Lake Memphremagog.
(near Georgeville.)

Outlet of Lake Memphremagog.

CHAP. IV.

SUGGESTIONS ON EMIGRATION.

The Edinburgh Cabinet Library, in a most valuable paper on emigration, makes the following remarks and statements, which, being drawn up after evidently most careful observation and research, are better worthy than anything we could write, of being recorded in a chapter on this subject. “Britain can conveniently spare every season not less than 50,000 or 60,000 of her inhabitants, retaining a sufficient number for every useful purpose, and with much advantage to those who remain behind. The adventurers, too, will form on the other side of the Atlantic a great and flourishing people, imbued with the laws, letters, manners, and all the acquirements which have raised their native country high among nations. A portion even of our superfluous capital, which sometimes seeks employment in distant and even chimerical objects, might be very advantageously invested in the culture and improvement of those valuable colonies.

“Admitting, however, the national benefits of emigration, it remains a very important question, what are the individuals or classes to whom it affords advantages sufficient to compensate for leaving their native land; and what course they ought to follow in order to realize these benefits. This is a point on which the reader may reasonably expect us to throw some additional light; and we can in truth assert, that we have considered it as anxiously as if all our own prospects had been involved in its solution. To arrive at any fixed conclusion, however, has been by no means easy. The materials are ample, but they are furnished by individuals usually more or less prepossessed on one side, and in many instances incapable of expressing their ideas with precision, or even of forming any distinct or decided opinion on so perplexed a subject. We have endeavoured, however, by carefully collating opposite statements, by fixing upon ascertained facts and points in which all parties agree, to draw up for the intending emigrant a reasonable view of what he may expect to meet with in the settlements beyond the Atlantic.

“The individuals who usually migrate into that new region may be divided into two classes,—those belonging to the labouring order, and those who seek to support themselves in the middling rank of society. The former go in the view of obtaining each a spot which he can cultivate with his own hands, subsisting chiefly on its produce: the latter hope, by the application of skill and capital, and by engaging the aid of others, to carry on operations on a larger scale, and to draw from their property a portion of the conveniences and even elegancies of life. The former comprise the more extensive, and indeed the more important branch of the subject; but as the latter will lead us to view it under a greater variety of lights, we shall most conveniently direct our first attention to it.

“No one, who has made any observation on the present state of this country, can have failed to observe the extreme difficulty which the middling classes find to support their place in society, and particularly to enable their sons to succeed them in stations of well-remunerated employment. The reduced scale of the army and navy, and the rigid economy now introduced into all the departments of the government, have withdrawn many former sources of income. Manufactures and trade, even when prosperous, can be carried on with advantage only on a large scale, with low profits upon an extensive capital. Hence there remain only the learned professions, with the officers and clerks employed by banks, insurance companies, and similar establishments; and in these pursuits, the increase of population and the number thrown out from other occupations cause an eager competition. This is increased by the general diffusion of information among the inferior classes, many of whom, by merit and address, compete successfully for these higher appointments,—a state of things which may be, on the whole, advantageous, as securing for national purposes a greater degree of talent; but it obviously increases the pressure on the middling ranks already severely felt.

A Settler’s hut on the frontier.

“Among the numerous young men, however, thus languishing for want of employment, there are probably not a few who possess or could command a small capital of from 500l. to 1000l. and who have the degree of judgment and industry requisite to superintend the labours of agriculture. It becomes then an interesting question, whether Canada affords the means of attaining that independence, and earning those conveniences, which their native country denies to them. On this subject, and every thing connected with it, a great variety of opinions prevails; but on comparing all together, we shall state grounds for concluding that, with a due degree of skill and perseverance, the emigrant in this rank will find the means, not indeed of rising to wealth, but of placing himself in a comfortable and independent situation.

“The cultivator in Canada stands in very different circumstances from either the proprietor or farmer in Britain. He obtains an estate in full and perpetual property for a smaller sum than the annual rent which he would here be obliged to give for it. After paying this price, however, he must expend at least three times as much in clearing and bringing it into a state of cultivation. Even then it will not yield him rent; it will be merely a farm for him to cultivate, with the very important advantage indeed of its being wholly his own, and no landlord to pay. The taxes also are extremely light, when compared to those which press on the English farmer. But in return for these benefits, he must give to his servants considerably higher wages, and will even have no small trouble in procuring them on any terms. What is worse, he obtains for his produce much lower prices, and even these with difficulty, because the supply of grain and provisions in a region so wholly agricultural must more and more exceed the demand within the country itself. These commodities, indeed, will always find a market among the dense population of Britain, to which they are now admitted on payment of easy duties; and in point of fact, the price must be finally ruled by what they will sell for here. After paying the expense of transportation across the Atlantic, added to that of conveying them from the place of production to the ports of Montreal or Quebec, there is little prospect that the finest wheat of Upper Canada will permanently bring in this country more than 50s. per quarter. Deducting the duty, 5s.—freight, 10s.—carriage from even a favourable situation in the interior, 8s.—we have only 27s.; or about 3s. 4d. per bushel left to the cultivator.

“Under these circumstances, it has become a prevailing opinion, and maintained by many as an indisputable maxim, that a Canadian proprietor cannot cultivate with advantage by means of hired servants, but must himself perform the full task of a common labourer. Those only are represented in the way of well-doing who have constantly in their hands the axe or the plough, whose ladies are seen milking the cows, churning, and performing the humblest menial offices. We must frankly say that, if such be the necessary lot of a settler in Canada, we cannot but concur with Captain Hall in thinking it unfit for the class now in consideration. Can it be supposed that a young man, accustomed to refined society, should renounce friends and country, and remove to a remote land, not to improve his condition, but to reduce himself to the level of a common labourer? How can he expect a fair partner, accustomed perhaps to value somewhat too highly the immunities of a refined society, to share with him so hard and humble a lot? We most readily admit that the labouring classes have within their reach the best blessings of life, and are often happier than those called their superiors. Still the desire of exemption from bodily toil, and of enjoying a portion of the conveniences and elegancies of life, is natural, and has a salutary effect in stimulating to activity and invention. The lively author of the “Backwoods,” a zealous advocate of the working system, admits the hardship of a young gentleman, employed to “chop down trees, to pile brush-heaps, split rails for fences, dressed in a coarse over-garment of hempen cloth called a logging shirt, and a Yankee straw hat flapped over his eyes.” We cannot help thinking that this ingenious lady is somewhat too severe on those of her own sex who, without her internal resources and powers of reflection, could not accommodate themselves to the hard and dreary life consequent upon this system. In short, we may observe, that if land in Canada will pay nothing but the mere manual labour put upon it, it is fitted only for the peasant settler, and can never afford an income for a person of better rank. This opinion seems confirmed by the judgment of the learned lady herself, when, after an experiment of three years, she concludes, that for a gentleman a small income is almost indispensable,—a good one desirable; this last a case not very likely to occur.

“Notwithstanding these weighty authorities, we do not hesitate to assert, that in farming on such a scale as will remunerate a person in the middling rank, his devoting himself to constant bodily labour is not only unnecessary, but decidedly injurious. It is admitted, we suppose, that, in our country, upon an extent of 150 to 200 acres, the tasks of planning, arranging, inspecting, and finding a proper market for the produce, afford very full occupation to a single individual. But in a Canadian farm, all these occupations are much more arduous and difficult. The business cannot be reduced into the same fixed routine; a greater variety of produce, both in grain and live stock, must be reared; servants, less steady, and oftener changed, require much stricter superintendance; markets are not found without more difficulty, and at a greater distance. To perform all these functions carefully and well, on a property of this extent, must, we apprehend, keep the owner’s hands very full. To attempt to combine with them the daily task of a common labourer, seems to ensure their being executed in an imperfect and slovenly manner, and consequently the whole concern greatly mismanaged. The newly-arrived emigrant is indeed told that the other is the approved mode, and that if he wishes to thrive in the country he must follow its customs. The fundamental principles of rural economy, however, cannot be changed by the interposition of the Atlantic. The original settlers in Upper Canada were mostly of the less opulent class, who could cultivate their lots only by the labour of their own hands. A few of them, who, by extraordinary exertion, have risen to some degree of wealth, retain still probably their primitive habits and maxims, and represent their success as connected with the hard personal labours which they then underwent. These are held forth as the models to be followed by the young cultivator. But a general rule cannot be founded on a few cases where peculiar activity and energy were displayed. With an average allotment of these qualities, such as we are generally entitled to expect, the union of the intellectual and directing with the manual and operative department, can rarely succeed. We are convinced that a person of competent judgment, devoting himself wholly to the former, would raise on the same ground a considerably larger produce than one who, exhausted by daily toil, should follow only in a rough way the mechanical routine observed among his neighbours. He would thus create a surplus applicable to his own profits; and we are convinced that it is only by the exertions of such a class that any improvement can be expected in the system of Canadian culture, which is admitted on all hands to be at present exceedingly defective.

Davis’ Clearing.
(Eastern Township.)

“In estimating, however, the plans and views of such a settler, several circumstances must be taken into consideration, and, in particular, the situation of his property. The Canadian districts are classed under two heads. The first, called The Bush, comprehends those situated in the depth of the forest, where towns and markets are distant, and reached only by roads which are almost impassable. To compensate the obvious disadvantages of this locality, settlers obtain a greater chance of good land at a considerably lower rate; a party of neighbours or friends can cluster together; and they have every prospect that sooner or later the communications will be much improved, that villages will spring up in their vicinity, and their estates be thereby raised in value. These considerations may justly weigh with certain classes of emigrants, but for those now under consideration they are far overbalanced by the disadvantages. In such a position, there is much greater difficulty in procuring hired labour, while its price must be higher, because the workmen are not only fewer, but more generally aim at having land of their own. Hence the expense of clearing ground in the several districts has been stated as differing to the extent of 2l. an acre; and while the cost of raising the produce has thus been augmented, its price or money value is greatly diminished. Cash indeed is scarcely ever seen in the remoter parts. It may at first view seem singular that there should be abundance of commodities worth money, and yet not able to procure it; but we may observe, that gold and silver will purchase any thing in every quarter of the world, while the products of a landed estate are of value only on the spot: the merchant, therefore, may give goods produced in the same vicinity, but he cannot give money. Connected with this want is the impossibility of procuring many of the elegancies and luxuries of life, portions of which have, by the middling classes, come to be viewed in the light of necessaries. Mr. Pickering mentions that tea, when sold at Buffalo, cost 4s., at Port Talbot, 6s. per lb. Salt at the former place was 9s., at the latter, 1l. 2s. 6d. a barrel. The settler may have plenty of food and homespun cloth, but almost every other commodity will be beyond his reach. These observations are not indeed to be understood in their utmost rigour, for in every district a certain amount of money, or at least of foreign articles, may be obtained in exchange for the surplus produce. The merchant, however, in fixing the value, makes a large deduction on account of the long and difficult conveyance; besides, as he carries on trade on a small scale and without competition, he exacts high profits, and has the farmer a good deal at his mercy. Commercial transactions in all the country districts of America are usually carried on by an individual named a storekeeper, who keeps an assortment of all the commodities likely to be wanted, and receives in return the produce of the cultivator. This mode of proceeding still farther supersedes the necessity of employing cash as a medium of exchange.

“Compared to the various disadvantages now stated, the gentleman settler, who must take with him a certain amount of capital, ought not to regard even a considerable difference in the price of the land, because, as already observed, it forms the smallest part of the outlay requisite for bringing it into a productive state. With regard to the contingent expectation of a future rise in value, this can only take place upon the low original price, and therefore can never be of any very great amount. Besides, along with the general advance of the country, the settled districts, and those in the vicinity of towns, will acquire also an additional value. At all events, a rise in the land is of little importance to him, if it ceases to be his,—an issue to which a long course of heavy expenses and scanty produce is very likely to lead.

“We have thought it the more necessary to dwell upon these considerations, as they seem to have escaped a large proportion of the opulent settlers recently attracted towards Canada. Under the influence of vague and speculative hopes, they have made it their ambition to plunge into the extreme west and the heart of the bush, and seem to have imagined that the farther they placed themselves beyond every vestige of culture and civilisation, the greater advantages did they secure. A letter in 1834 states that almost all the emigrants of capital were hastening to the London District, a territory perhaps the most decidedly woodland of any in Canada. Settlers in these wilds encounter peculiar and extreme hardships, being deprived of every accommodation to which they had been accustomed; sometimes even in want of common necessaries, and in danger of starvation. At different times, pork, flour, or tea are wanting, when the weather cuts off all communication with the shore; and the ox-waggon, in travelling thence with supplies, is often so shaken that the contents are strangely mingled. Rice, sugar, currants, mustard, are jumbled together; and the next pudding perhaps proves to be seasoned with pepper, and even rappee. However, while their money lasts, they can make their way, and clear a certain portion of land, which yields in plenty the rude necessaries of life.

View from the house of R. Shirreff, Esq.
(Ottawa River.)

But they have no means to recruit their exhausted purse, or secure any supply of the comforts and elegancies to which they had been accustomed. If, in anticipation of prosperity, they have incurred any extent of pecuniary obligation, their situation becomes extremely embarrassing, and may issue in the entire loss of their property.

“Important, however, as a marketable situation appears, it ought by no means to be procured by any great sacrifice as to the quality of the land; for, as Mr. Talbot justly states, it is vain for a cultivator to be near a market, if he has little or nothing to carry to it. It has been already mentioned, that after paying the original price, a much larger sum, nearly equal in every case, must be expended in bringing the land under cultivation. Thus there is little difference between the cost of good and bad soil, while the former only, under existing disadvantages, ever can remunerate the settler. It is a grievous thing, as Mr. Shirreff observes, to incur heavy labour and expense in clearing a spot, and then find it worth little. The settler, therefore, who brings with him a certain amount of capital, practises a most wretched economy when he hesitates to pay such an original price as will secure both a good situation and good land. If a small sacrifice must be made, it should rather be on the former. A larger produce will pay for a small addition on the cost of transport, and time may remedy the one evil, but will never make a bad sale good. Some sacrifice of this kind may often be necessary; since, as Mr. Fergusson remarks, on the immediate banks of lakes and rivers it is not unfrequently light and sandy, whence arises the necessity of going somewhat into the interior in order to find the more valuable description.

“In consequence of the views now stated, it becomes a highly important question what are the market or cash districts (as they are sometimes called), in contradistinction to those in the bush. In regard to Canada, the topographical details already given must throw important lights on the subject; and to these some general observations shall now be added. The shipping ports of Montreal or Quebec form the central points, by proximity to which the advantages of all sites in either province are to be estimated; and next to this is a location on navigable waters having a ready communication with them. The banks of the St. Lawrence between these two cities are occupied to a considerable depth inland by the French seigniories. Land, however, in the vicinity of Montreal may still be procured, having the advantages of a ready market; but from this very circumstance it cannot be purchased under a price varying from 10l. to 20l. an acre, a rate beyond the reach of most emigrants. It may be rented indeed at 10s. or 12s. and Mr. Shirreff is of opinion that farming may there be carried on with advantage; but in a country where land may be obtained in full property at so cheap a rate, the British settler is not likely to be content with this dependent tenure. His object, therefore, must be sought somewhat farther in the interior.

“The parts of the Eastern and Johnstown districts along the bank of the St. Lawrence enjoy perhaps the best situation as regards proximity to market of any in Upper Canada; and their advantage in this respect will be further improved on the completion of the canal now in progress for overcoming the obstructions in the navigation of that river. This tract, however, labours under the very serious drawback of being decidedly inferior in soil and climate to the more western territories. The former deficiency, it is true, will appear from our topographical survey to be by no means universal, the idea having been in some measure suggested by the rugged aspect of the immediate banks. Matilda and other districts appear to contain a considerable extent of fine land yet-unoccupied. The climate operates chiefly to prevent the raising of wheat so fine as to bear the cost of transportation to Europe; but this is of less moment since live stock had begun to be considered the more profitable branch. On the whole, therefore, we incline to think that settlers of capital, in their eagerness to push westward and into the bush, have bestowed too little attention on this portion of territory.

“The banks of the Ottawa on both sides as far up as Hull, and including those of its tributary the Rideau, appear to possess similar advantages. Some demand for produce is also made by the lumberers who pass to and from the upper tracts on this river. The soil and climate seem to call for nearly the same observations as have been made on the two preceding districts.

Timber Slide and Bridge on the Ottawa.

“The shores of Lake Ontario, including a space varying from ten to twenty miles inland, afford good scope for a settler of moderate capital. This territory, though not uniformly fertile, contains a large extent of excellent soil with a comparatively mild climate; and as the rigorous season is shorter, winter wheat even of fine quality may be produced. Toronto and Kingston, now considerable towns, present a ready market, through the medium too of respectable merchants, who are known to deal on liberal terms. The river Trent and the Rice Lake might perhaps be viewed as enlarging the sphere of eligible settlement somewhat beyond the limits now stated; but we could scarcely recommend to a gentleman to go far beyond Peterborough. The vicinity of the city first mentioned, and the goodness of the road called Gouge-street, may indeed carry the range a little farther in that direction, though we doubt whether it would be advisable to go to the remoter shores of Lake Simcoe. Gore district, where it passes Burlington Bay, must, we suspect, be considered as mere bush.

“Beyond Ontario, the shores of Lake Erie, even since the completion of the Welland Canal, cannot be recommended without some hesitation. The distance from Montreal becomes great, and as the goods could scarcely be conveyed without transhipment, the tolls of three canals must be paid. At all events, it is only the lands closely adjoining this great lake that appear to afford a profitable site for the more opulent settlers; for the interior of the London District, including even the banks of the Thames, must still, we suspect, be classed with the bush-territory. Mr. Shirreff found that wheat bore a very low price there, and that it was moreover difficult to be procured. The shores of Lake Huron must also be included under the same description.

Lake Massawhippy.
(Eastern Townships.)

“It ought, however, to be observed that these limits may be considerably modified by the great works mentioned in the commercial chapter as being contemplated for extending the communications of Upper Canada. These, unfortunately, are now at a stand for want of means; but if the plans of Lord Durham be carried into effect, we may hope to see them all accomplished on an augmented scale.

“It will be proper to consider under this view the eastern townships of Upper Canada. Their situation is peculiar, owing to the banks of the St. Lawrence and of the Richelieu being occupied by the French seigniories, having a tract of inferior ground in their rear. The townships are thus thrown much inland, and their products can be brought to market only by a land-carriage, varying from 60 to 120 miles. The roads too have hitherto been bad; but the British American Land Company have been employed in making a very good one from Port St. Francis to Sherbrooke, and in improving the others. The evil also is much mitigated by the circumstance that cattle, which form the main staple of this territory, can convey themselves to market, and, even if killed, the salted meat contains much more value in the same bulk than grain. Yet we should hesitate in advising settlers of the more opulent class to proceed further than Melbourne and Shipton, on the side of Port St. Francis, or beyond Shefford, if proceeding from Montreal. Here they will find good land, which, when the promised improvements are completed, will not be much more than 50 miles from a port on the St. Lawrence.

“A young man, who desires to form a judgment how far such a mode of life will suit him, must be warned not to carry out the ideas of rank and dignity which are connected with the possession of land in Europe. Here, according to feudal ideas, not wholly extinct, it was anciently combined with power; and still, from the large rents paid for its use, it generally confers wealth without labour—the enjoyment of splendor and luxurious ease. But in America, this species of property has never implied hereditary influence; and it yields income, in most instances, only by hard personal labour, or an active superintendence. The few wealthy men of which it can boast, have acquired their riches by acting as merchants and storekeepers; and these are, on the whole, the persons of greatest consequence in the country. But, though landed estate does not ensure those factitious distinctions, there are important advantages of which it can never be divested. It is attended with a degree of independence seldom enjoyed by the middling classes in Britain; for here, farmers, with a heavy burden of rent and taxes, which they must make good amid many uncertainties, are always liable to come under the power of their landlords. Salaried officers, too, may be exposed to insult, and even the loss of their situations, through the caprice of employers or superiors; whereas, a proprietor in the colonies, if he can draw a subsistence from his lands, and keep clear of debt, is scarcely liable to any vicissitude. He is removed, indeed, from the society of his friends; but this, unless as to occasional visits, is usually the lot of professional men even in our own country, who must accept employment wherever they can find it. Again, he can never return to reside in his native land—a privation which, to those who have spent the best part of their lives abroad, is, in a great degree, imaginary; and, aided by the improving means of communication, he is not debarred from the possibility of seeing his relations at home. In regard to society in Canada, if he has followed the advice of not going far into the bush, he will find it as good as it is usually met with in the rural parts of Britain, or even in provincial towns.

A Lake farm on the Frontier.

“The foregoing estimates have been made with the view of ascertaining what income may be expected from a Canadian farm, after it is cleared and placed under regular cultivation; but the momentous question—by what means and resources the emigrant is to bring it into this condition, still remains to be considered. It must not be concealed that his task will be arduous; and if he is to perform it, as is here supposed, by hired labourers, a certain capital will be requisite. 200 acres of land, of good quality, and in an eligible situation, cannot be purchased for much less than 200l. He must erect some kind of habitation, though at first a simple one, and have certain farm-offices, implements, and labouring stock, which will require at least 100l. He must also have the means of subsistence till he is able to draw it from his farm; though this, it is presumed, during his noviciate, will be managed with the strictest economy. But the hardest part of the task now remains; for the dense forest which covers his ground must be cut down before a single blade can grow upon it. This process, with the addition of fencing and sowing, is averaged at 4l. an acre, which, with reference to the requisite space of 150 acres, would amount to 600l.; the remaining 50 being advantageously allowed to remain in woodland. It is true that this process may be gradual, and that the increasing produce of the improved portions will afford means for clearing the remainder; but as there is also to be paid out of it the subsistence of the emigrant, the expenses of cultivation, and the additions necessary to the stock of the enlarged farm, the improvements must be far advanced before any surplus can be expected.”

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

CHAP. V.

SPORTING IN CANADA.

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

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

Orford Lake.

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

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

‘Where human thought, like human sight,

Fails to pursue their trackless flight.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CHAP. VI.

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

SETTLERS.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The hand that made us is divine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Working a Canoe up a Rapid.

At the Cascades a short canal has been cut, and locks formed by the government, through which the vessels pass, till they attain the head of these rapids, after which they proceed without departing from the river till they arrive at the Cedars, where, by other locks, they ascend the most difficult part of the rapids. The current between the Cascades and the Cedars is so very impetuous, that the boatmen are obliged to have recourse to their setting-poles, which they fix in the bed of the river, and thus propel their boats with considerable celerity. These exertions, though fatiguing in the extreme, they are often obliged to continue for several hours without intermission, and not unfrequently even their best endeavours in this may prove abortive. When this is the case, they make a rope fast to the bow of the boat; and leaving only the helmsman on board, they plunge into the water and tow her by main strength up the rapids. This is the manner in which they perform the arduous passage, which, though only 120 miles, they seldom accomplish in less than ten days. How the men who are employed in this difficult navigation exist without ruining their constitutions is a mystery which I am utterly unable to explain. They are compelled, almost every hour, when actually melting with heat and fainting with fatigue, to jump into the water, frequently up to their arm-pits, and to remain in it towing their boats until they are completely chilled. They then have recourse to the aid of ardent spirits, of which on all occasions they freely partake, and, in a few minutes, are once more bathed in perspiration. The principal rapids between Montreal and Prescott are the Cedars and the Cascades already mentioned, the Coteau du Lac and the Long Sault, the latter of which are about nine miles in length; and though they are seldom ascended in less than a day, boats have been known to descend through their whole length in fifteen minutes.

While about 140 of the settlers took their passage from La Chine in what the Canadians call Durham boats, my father and his family, with the remainder of the settlers, embarked in a vessel of the same description. The accommodation which the boat afforded was so poor, that our situation, during the thirteen days of our voyage from La Chine to Prescott, was in reality “below the reach of envy.” To make room for my mother and the children in the wretched little hole of a cabin, my brother and I were frequently obliged to sleep on the shore in the open air—the refreshing zephyrs being our only curtains, and the “spangled heavens, a shining frame,” our resplendent canopy. Taverns are undoubtedly found in many parts along the banks of the river; but, as the boats do not always stop in the neighbourhood of these refectories, we seldom had any other method of reposing our weary bodies than the one to which I have now alluded.

One night in particular, when we felt the air rather too cool for sleeping on the ground, my brother and I, with three of the settlers, solicited permission of a Canadian farmer to lie on the floor of his kitchen. This request, though humble and moderate, was peremptorily refused. We asked for neither bed nor blanket, meat nor drink, but barely for leave to stretch our fatigued limbs on the uncovered boards; yet even this was denied. We were in the act of quietly returning to the boat, when, on approaching the door of his stable, we found it open, entered, and had but just discovered some clean straw, upon which we designed to rest our heads for the night, when the owner stalked in, and on recognising us, commanded our instant departure. We were therefore compelled to decamp and to take our usual nightly station on the shore. This little incident banished sleep from my eyes; and I spent the greater part of the night in the indulgence of the most gloomy reflections. That fondly beloved Isle of Erin, where the genius of hospitality continually holds her court, and freely spreads her social influence, again recurred to my memory. I thought of her humblest sons, generous and humane, sons of benevolence and toil, whose hard labour just gives what life requires, but gives no more; yet who, with the ever ready smile of heart-felt sympathy, are willing to share that hard-earned little with the weary traveller whom chance directs to their threshold, or necessity throws upon their bounty.

We were from the 18th of August to the 1st of September in accomplishing this voyage of only 120 miles. I think I may say, without any danger of hyperbole, that, during this short period, each of us encountered greater difficulties, endured more privations, and submitted to stronger proofs of our fortitude, than had been our lot in all the preceding years of our lives. We were obliged by day, in consequence of the great weight of our luggage, to assist the sailors in towing the boat up the rapids, often up to the arm-pits in the water; and by night to rest our enervated and shivering limbs on the inhospitable shore of this river of cataracts.

On the ninth day of our amphibious journey my brother and I with several of the settlers, for the sake of a little variety, left the boat, and walked a few miles along the shore of the St. Lawrence. As we were entirely unacquainted with the country, we resolved to keep as close as possible to the bank, which in this part was completely covered with thick woods. When we had walked about a mile, our progress was interrupted by a large tract of swampy land, which we found to be totally impassable. Before we had reached the head of the swamp, and once more gained the shore, the boat was out of sight. However, we pursued our route along the bank until night approached, when we perceived a light about two miles down the river, which we concluded to be that of the boat. This conjecture proved to be correct. It appeared that, in our hurry to overtake her, we had over-reached the mark, and got too far a-head. As the night was dark, we whistled, hallooed, and fired off our guns, hoping to induce them to pull up and take us on board. But all our efforts proved ineffectual; we could neither make them hear us, nor understand our signals. At length one of our party observed a house about half a mile above us;—a discovery which afforded no small degree of pleasure. We had walked nearly ten miles through a dismal forest, over swamps and marshes, and were hungry and fatigued. A few moments before we had no prospect of discovering even a dry spot of land on which we might lay ourselves down to rest. Nothing appeared—

Canadian Scenery, Volume 2 (of 2)

CHAP. I.

CHAP. II.

CHAP. III.

CHAP. IV.

CHAP. V.

CHAP. VI.