As this result was entirely unsolicited by me, and as it was generally understood that the accountant had been sent out partly as a check on the superintendent, to prevent extravagant expenditure, I took this as a compliment paid by both to my abilities and integrity.

Several of the clerks had light neatly-made boats, in which we used to make excursions up the Speed for the purpose of trout-fishing. I think, without exception, this stream is the best for that species of fish I ever saw. I have frequently caught a pailful of these delicious trout in the space of two or three hours. For my own part, I found a small garden-worm the best bait; but one of our clerks, a Mr. Hodgett, was skilful with the fly, and consequently used to catch his fish in a more scientific manner.

My native county, Suffolk, with the exception of that part watered by the Waveney, is not famed for its fly-fishing: therefore I was no adept in the gentle art, but in ground-bait angling I consider myself no contemptible performer.

The small streams and creeks are so overarched with trees in Canada, that it is almost impossible, except in odd spots, to make a cast with the fly without endangering your tackle.

The speckled trout in the river Speed vary in size from four ounces to a pound and a half, though it is seldom that one of the latter size is captured.

Guelph I consider to be remarkably healthy, and for an inland town very prettily situated. I think, however, that the town-plot was laid out on too large a scale—especially the market-place, which is large enough for a city containing fifty thousand inhabitants. I have not been there since 1832. It has since become the assize-town for the Wellington district, and consequently has greatly increased both in size and population.

Although I had been several months a resident in Guelph, I had neither seen nor heard a clergyman of the Established Church. Why are we always the last to send labourers into the vineyard? No sooner does a small village, composed of a mill, a black-smith's shop, and a few houses, spring up in the woods, than you find a Presbyterian, Methodist, or Baptist Church—or perhaps all three—settled there immediately. No wonder, then, that our church is losing ground when so little energy is displayed either in building churches or sending active and zealous men to preach the gospel.

The first person I heard preach in Guelph was a tailor, who had made a professional visit to the city, and who had the reputation of being considered a very eloquent man. Due notice having been given, a large congregation assembled to hear Mr. H——-, who, to do him justice, was eloquent enough, though his sermon was all in his own praise from beginning to end.

He said that "he had once been a great infidel and an evil liver, but now he was converted, and was as good as he formerly had been wicked; and be hoped that all his hearers would take example from him and do as he had done—forsake the crooked paths and steadfastly follow the straight." After this autobiographical discourse was at length over, and a brother snip invited him to dinner, I was also honoured with an invitation, which my curiosity induced me to accept.

I found that the party consisted of a magistrate and his wife, from E——-, the mad Doctor, and Mr. Y——-, one of the Company's clerks. Our host-tailor, No. 1, took the head of the table; the preacher, tailor No. 2, sat at the foot. The dinner itself was quite a professional spread, and consisted of a fine fat roast goose at the top, and another at the bottom—a large dish of cabbage in the centre, and a plate of hard dumplings on each side. Mr. Y——-, who sat opposite, gave me such a comical look when the second goose made its appearance, that I found it impossible to suppress my risibility, which, unfortunately for me, exploded just as the preacher—who, of course, mentally consigned me to perdition—commenced a long grace; but if the Governor-General himself had been present, I do not think I could have restrained my inclination to laugh.

The dinner was certainly excellent of its kind; and in a new settlement where nothing but salt pork and beef could be obtained, I might with truth say, that it was a great treat. After the cloth was removed, it was proposed by the magistrate's lady, that the company should sing a hymn, upon which the mad Doctor, who was considered the most pious, as well as the most scientific, singer of the company, sang like an owlingale, Pope's celebrated lines:—

"Vital spark of heavenly flame, Quit, O quit; this mortal frame.

I am ashamed to say that I was obliged to stuff my handkerchief into my mouth to keep from laughing outright; and no wonder, for I never heard such an insane screeching in all my life.

In the course of the summer, Mr. Buchanan, the British Consul, visited Guelph, when the superintendent gave a public dinner at the Priory, to which I had the honour of an invitation. Amongst other guests was John Brandt, the chief of the Mohawks, and son of the celebrated chief whom Campbell the poet, in his "Gertrude of Wyoming," has stigmatized as—

"The monster, Brandt, With all his howling, desolating band."

And again—

"Accursed Brandt! he left of all my tribe, Nor man, nor child, nor thing of living birth."

It is said that John Brandt was very angry when these lines were pointed out to him.* [* Campbell subsequently made an apology to him.]

On his health being drunk, he acknowledged the courtesy in a short but eloquent speech. He was not handsome, though rather a fine-looking man. I believe he died of cholera in 1832.

One day, Dr. Dunlop came to my house, and informed me that I was to accompany him on an expedition to the township of Wilmot, joining the Huron tract, to examine the site, and make a report of the probable cost of building a bridge over the river Nith—or "Smith's Creek," as it was then called—one of the tributaries of the Grand River. "The accountant," he said, "has taken it into his head that he will accompany us; and, as he has never been in the Bush before, won't we put him through his facings before he gets back? that is all. Mind, and keep your eye on me. When I am ready to play him off, I will give the signal to you."

"Well, Doctor," said I, "if you will take the blame, I have no objection to the fun; but remember! I am a very young man, and if Mr. Smith should complain to the Company—"

"Oh, never fear," was his reply, "for I will make it all right with Galt, if he do. In the meantime, order my man to saddle the horses. Let the Cockney have the roan-mare. You can take your own pony; and do not forget to tell Hinds to bring the brandy. Should we have to camp out all-night, a small soupcon of the creature will do us no harm."

Everything being in readiness, we started about two o'clock, P.M. Our route lay through the new settlement of Guelph and the fine townships of Upper and Lower Waterloo. This tract of land was originally bought and settled by a company of Dutch Pennsylvanians, upwards of fifty years ago. The Grand River, or Ouse, intersects these townships—a fine stream, spanned by several substantial bridges. This part of the country is densely populated and very fertile. The soil, for the most part, is a light rich loam.

As soon as we had crossed the open country, we entered a narrow bush- road, only just wide enough for two persons to ride abreast. It must be remembered that Smith was a very bad rider, and looked as if he had never been on horse-back before; for every time he rose in his saddle you could see his horse's head under him.

The Doctor now gave me the wink to fall into the rear; then riding up abreast of Smith, he commenced operations by slyly sticking his spur into the roan mare, exclaiming at the same time, "Come, man, if we don't push on a little, we shall not reach Blenheim to-night."

As soon as the roan mare felt the spur, off she went at a rattling pace, the Dr. keeping close along-side, and applying the spur whenever he could get a chance. At first, Smith tried hard to pull in the mare; then he shouted to the Doctor to stop her; instead of which, the spur was only applied the sharper. At last, quite frightened, he seized the mane with both his hands. And then commenced a neck-and-neck race for nearly two miles—myself and the Doctor's man, John Hinds, bringing up the rear, and shouting with laughter. Smith was so frightened, and so intent on stopping his run-away steed, that he never suspected his persecutor who, looking quite grave, said, "He never remembered his roan running off in that extraordinary manner before; but," he added with a grin, "I suspect, Smith, she knew you were a Cockney."

After this exploit, we went on soberly enough, until we entered the township of Blenheim. We had still some distance to travel through a dense forest, before we should reach Springer's—a farm-house where we intended to stop all night, and where the Doctor kept a store of good things, under the charge of Mrs. Springer; for this was always his halting-place, on his various journeys to Goderich.

Darkness fell as we entered the Blenheim woods, and now the Doctor took the opportunity of asking me, "If I thought that I could howl?" I expressed confidence in my abilities that way.

The Doctor then said, "Second any move of mine for pushing you on to Springer's. But mind," continued he, "you are to stop within half a mile of his clearing; and when you hear us coming, you must howl with all your might, and leave the rest to me."

After a while, when it was quite dark, so that we could scarcely see our horses' heads, the Doctor proposed that I should take Hinds, and "ride on as hard as we could, and tell Mrs. Springer to have supper ready for us; and," said he, "let the old man tap the whiskey I forwarded to his house last week. We will follow you at our leisure; for my friend is not used to travel after dark on such roads as these."

We accordingly rode on smartly, till we could perceive a slight glimmering of light through the trees, which we knew to be Springer's clearing. We then halted, one on each side of the road, but entirely concealed from view by the thick underbrush. As soon as we heard the party coming, we set up a most unearthly yell, which made the woods fairly ring again. We could hear the Doctor cry out, "The wolves! the wolves! ride for your life, man," and he then galloped off in the direction from which they had just come.

Poor Smith shouted after him at the top of his voice, imploring the Doctor, for God's sake, not to leave him. "Oh Lord!" we heard him say, as he rode after the Doctor, "I shall surely be devoured by the ravenous wretches. Help—help! Doctor—stop!" and such like piteous ejaculations.

The Doctor, who had ridden ahead, as soon as he heard his victim approach, commenced in the same key as we had done before, and a dismal howling we all made. Fear now compelled poor Smith to wheel the mare round and ride back, whereupon we again greeted him with a second edition, even—if that were possible—more diabolical than the first, which terminated the fun sooner than we expected; for, losing all presence of mind, he let his steed get off the track into the woods, and, consequently, he was swept off by the branches. We heard him fall and roar for help, which we left the Doctor to administer, and made the best of our way to Springer's, where, half an hour after, we were joined by our fellow-travellers, one of whom had scarcely recovered from his fright, and still looked as pale as a ghost. Two or three glasses of whiskey-punch, however, soon restored him to his natural complexion.

I do not know if he ever found out the trick we had so successfully played him; but if he did, he kept it to himself, rightly judging that if the story got wind he would never hear the last of it.

Springer had only one spare bed, which we resigned in favour of the accountant, as some little compensation for the fright he had sustained. The Doctor and I took possession of the barn, where we found plenty of fresh hay, which we infinitely preferred to the spare bed and its familiars. There we slept delightfully, till a chorus of cocks (or roosters, as the more delicate Americans would call them) awakened us from our repose, to the wrathful indignation of Dunlop, who anathematized them for "an unmusical ornithological set of fiends."

We made an early breakfast off fried sausages, and the never-failing ham and eggs, and were soon again in the saddle. We took the nearest road to Plum Creek, where we left our horses, and proceeded for the remaining four miles on foot, through a magnificent forest.

We were now in that part of the township of Wilmot belonging to the Canada Company, which did not then contain a single farm, but has been since completely settled. At length, we came to a narrow valley, some fifty or sixty feet below the level of the country through which we had been travelling, in the centre of which flowed the Nith, sparkling in the sun: the wild grapes hanging in rich festoons from tree to tree, gave an air of rural beauty to the scene. For the convenience of foot- passengers, some good Samaritan had felled a tree directly across the stream, which at that place was not more than fifty feet wide. The current was swift, though not more than four or five feet deep.

Here a small misfortune happened to the Doctor, who was an inveterate snuff-taker, and carried a large box he called a coffin—I presume from its resemblance to that dreary receptacle.

While in the act of crossing the temporary bridge, and at the same time regaling his olfactory nerves with a pinch of the best Irish, his famous coffin slipped from his grasp and floated away majestically down the swift-flowing waters of the sylvan Nith.

The Doctor was a man of decision: he hesitated not even for a moment, but pitched himself headlong into the stream, from which he quickly emerged with his recovered treasure. It is but justice to my friend Dunlop, to remind the reader that his extravagant affection for his snuff-box is not without a parallel in history, since Louis XVIII has recorded with his own royal hand an attachment to his tabatiere, equally eccentric and misplaced.

Scarcely had this Prince escaped three miles from Paris and its democrats, when, on putting his hand into his waistcoat-pocket, in order to take a consoling pinch, he missed his snuff-box, which, in his hurry, he had left upon his toilette, at the discretion of the mob. "Mon Dieu, ma tabatiere!" was his horrified exclamation, as he deliberated for a moment upon a misfortune so overwhelming.

To go back to Paris was only to risk his life, while to proceed on his journey was to lose his snuff-box. His philo-tabatierishness triumphed: he returned, snatched up his beloved box, and made it the companion of his flight; and, in all his vicissitudes, from exile to a throne, he considered the possession of his favourite tabatiere as his principal consolation. The Doctor was no less rash than the French monarch, and in recovering his tabatiere equally fortunate.

A good fire and some brandy soon made the Doctor all right again, after his cold bath in the Nith. We now prepared our camp for the night: this we had no trouble in doing, for we found plenty of poles and bark, which had been used by the labourers, whilst cutting out the road to the Huron tract. The Doctor's man had brought a bundle of blankets and an axe, from Springer's, and I, like Dalgetty, carried the provender.

While Hinds was cooking the supper, I prepared our bed, by breaking a quantity of fine hemlock-brush to thatch the bottom of the camp, to keep us from the damp ground, which it did quite effectually. I have camped out, I dare say, hundreds of times, both in winter and summer; and I never caught cold yet. I recommend, from experience, a hemlock- bed, and hemlock-tea, with a dash of whiskey in it, merely to assist the flavour, as the best preventive.

The Doctor was in first-rate humour, and seemed determined to make a night of it; and even the Cockney appeared to enjoy himself amazingly. I knew, by the wicked eye of the Doctor, that he was bent on mischief. Hinds was kept busy after supper in making brandy-punch, the Doctor keeping us in a roar of laughter with his amusing anecdotes. I knew by the long Latin quotations that Smith indulged in, that he was fast verging on intoxication. For my part, tired and drowsy, I soon fell into a state of pleasing forgetfulness, leaving my two companions in the middle of some learned discussion, the subject of which I have long forgotten.

In the morning we examined the proposed site for building the bridge, which we found presented no unusual difficulties. I have since been informed that excellent mills and a thriving village now occupy the very spot where we bivouacked on this memorable occasion.

At Plum Creek we again resumed our horses, and, at the village of Galt* we parted company. The Doctor and his man went on to Flamborough+ West; whilst Smith and I returned to Guelph, which we reached a short time after dark, without inflicting on him any more adventures.

[* Galt is a thriving town, situated on the west bank of the Grand River, in the township of Dumfries. The town-plot originally belonged to the Honourable William Dixon, who gave it that name in compliment to the superintendent of the Canada Company. + One of the prettiest situations in Canada West, commanding a fine prospect of Ancaster and the surrounding country; and also the seat of the Hon. James Crooks.]



CHAPTER XVII.

A NEW WAY OF KEEPING A BIRTHDAY. — LOST IN THE WOODS. — KINDNESS OF MR. GALT. — ADVICE TO NEW SETTLERS. — UNEXPECTED RETIREMENT OF MR. GALT. — I ACCOMPANY HIM TO THE LANDING-PLACE. — RECEIVE ORDERS TO LEAVE GUELPH FOR GODERICH. — WHIRLWINDS AT GUELPH AND DOURO.

THE 6th of November was my birthday, so I determined to give myself a holiday, and go out still-hunting. I had been told by some of the workmen that deer were very plentiful in the Clergy-block, so I started early in the morning without waiting for my regular breakfast, merely taking a biscuit, as I was too eager for the sport to have much appetite; besides, I intended to be home to an early dinner. The sky was overcast, and a few flakes of snow were falling, but I did not dislike these signs; for I prefer a little dampness on the leaves, which causes less noise from the tread—an important point to the hunter; for when the leaves are crisp and dry, it is useless to attempt approaching the deer, who are sure to hear you long before you get within range.

I considered myself a tolerably good woodsman, and was, therefore, not much afraid of being lost; but I reckoned without my host in this instance. After crossing the river, I proceeded for some distance along a hard-wood ridge, till I came to a thicket of brush-wood, out of which sprang three fine deer, a buck and two does. I fired at the buck as he scampered off, and had the satisfaction of finding blood on the track, which I followed for more than two miles. But I lost him at last in the middle of a cedar-swamp, owing to the quantity of soft snow, which was by this time falling heavily. I, therefore, thought it best to return home, and put off my hunt to a more propitious day.

On emerging from the swamp, which I did on the wrong side—for I had no sun to guide me—I saw a fine doe within fifty yards of me, feeding on the side of a hill. I thought I was sure of this one at any rate; but, in this also, I was woefully disappointed; for the powder in the pan of the lock had got damp by the wet snow, and only flashed in the pan. My gun had the old flint-lock, percussion-caps being then hardly known in the colonies.

My second disappointment decided me to return home. This, however, was sooner said than done; for, after walking for more than two hours, I found I had lost my way, a conclusion as to which there could be no mistake. At first, I thought it would be best to take my back-track, but I found this would not answer; for the snow was melting as fast as it fell. I could not even avail myself of the common indications for finding my way, because the under-brush was still loaded with snow, so that it was quite impossible to see fifty yards in any direction.

Whilst I was debating what I had best do to extricate myself from this dilemma, I came upon a tolerably fresh blazed line, which I suspected was the boundary between the townships of Guelph and the Clergy- reserve-block of Puslinch. In this idea I was perfectly right; but the question now with me was, in which direction I should follow the line. After considering for some time, as ill-luck would have it, I took the wrong route, and, having walked at least three miles, came to the end of the blaze, where I found a surveyor's post, on which was legibly written, in red chalk, on each side, the names of the four townships, of which it was the corner-post; viz. Guelph, Puslinch, Nasagiweya, and Eramosa; and lower down on the post, "seven miles and a half to Guelph." I had, therefore, nothing for it, but to turn back on the line and retrace my steps. This I did in a smart run, for I saw the shades of night fast gathering around me.

In less than an hour I had passed the place where I first found the blaze, but soon after came to a windfall,* where I found it impossible to follow the line through. I was, therefore, compelled to leave the blaze—my only sure guide—which, however, I still hoped to re-find, by keeping round the edge of the windfall, till I again struck the line. Just before dark, I saw a partridge sitting on a log, I believe. I fresh primed, and snapped half a dozen times at him, without effect, but the gun had got so wet, that at last I gave it up as a bad job; though I should have liked him very much for my supper, for which I had a ravenous appetite.

[* A heap of great trees blown down by the wind.]

Presently, I came to a nice little spring creek running under some fine shady cedars. The ground looked dry and mossy; and as it was nearly dark, I thought the best thing I could do was to camp for the night, for I knew it was impossible to find my way after dark. I immediately collected a large quantity of dry balsam-fir, which lay about in great profusion, and chose a cluster of spreading cedars for my camp. After this, I piled a large heap of wood against one of the trees; and rubbing some dry cedar-bark quite fine, put it under my wood. In order to light my fire, I tore up a piece of a cotton handkerchief, which I laid over the pan of my gun, newly primed. Having fired the cotton in this manner, I enclosed it in the cedar-bark, keeping up the flame—not by using that primitive bellows, my mouth—but, by waving the bark to and fro, after the method used by the Indians. Thus, I soon had a large cheerful fire, which I much needed, for I was thoroughly wet.

My first care was to dry my gun and reload it, in case of wolves. Whilst I was busy doing this, I heard a shot, and then another; but the gunners were a long way off, as I knew by the sound—certainly not less than three miles; and as I was quite aware it was useless for me to attempt to make my way out, I contented myself with firing my gun in answer to their shots, which, not being repeated, I also ceased firing, though I had no doubt my neighbours were searching for me, but not near enough to find me out. However, I discovered the direction in which Guelph lay, by the sound of their volleys, so I did not despair, as I felt sure of being able to regain my home in the morning.

The snow soon ceased to fall, and the night came out fine and clear, though rather sharp. I had a famous fire, and slept tolerably well, though awaking occasionally with the cold; when I would replenish the fire and turn my chilled side to the blaze, by which means I managed to pass the night as well as I could expect under the circumstances, considering, too, that I had eaten nothing from six o'clock the previous morning.

By day-break, I was on my march in the direction in which I supposed Guelph to lie. The sun rose clear and bright, which enabled me to make a true course in half an hour; for I began to recognize ridges I had before traversed in former hunting excursions; and was soon confirmed in this opinion, by the firing of guns and blowing of horns in the direction I was going. In a few minutes, I heard two men in conversation, one of whom was a native of Somersetshire, living close to me. I stepped behind a large tree, directly in their path, when I heard my neighbour say to his companion—"This is the way he generally takes; I will warrant we shall find he." At that instant, I fired my gun close to them, which made them start with surprise. They then informed me that Mr. Galt had sent out all the workmen in search of me. This I was well-aware of, from the continual volleys which rang in all directions. We were soon out on the main-road leading to the bridge, where I found more than fifty of the inhabitants looking for me.

This birthday hunting excursion turned out anything but a frolic; for the result was, twenty-six hours' starvation and the loss of a fine buck; besides my being hungry, weary, and stiff, from sleeping all night in the woods. Moreover, in common gratitude, I was bound to treat my neighbours and the workmen sent to look for me, and the treat cost me five gallons of whiskey. To add to this chapter of accidents, two of the party who turned out to hunt for me in the woods, lost themselves, and spent the night in as disagreeable a manner as I had myself done.

I would advise all new settlers to provide themselves with a pocket- compass, which can be procured for a few shillings. This should be suspended round the neck by a ribbon, in the same manner as a watch— and I need not add that in the Bush it is of infinitely more use.

My employments in the Company's service often obliged me to leave home and take long journeys—fatiguing enough, indeed, they often were. But youth is the season of enterprise, and always have accustomed myself to look upon the bright side of everything, leaving to the grumblers the reverse of the picture, upon which I fear they are only too fond of dwelling. But I am sure a cheerful spirit is the best assistant in carrying a settler through every difficultly.

Early in the spring of 1829, I made a tour of the Newcastle district, selling land and receiving payments for the Company. Whilst so employed, I received a letter from the superintendent, informing me of his resignation, and appointing me to meet him in Toronto with what money I had collected.

I was very sorry to hear of Mr. Galt's retirement. He had always acted in a kind and liberal manner towards me; and, indeed, when he left the Company, I considered that I had lost a true and affectionate friend. I could not help, therefore, noticing with regret that, although most of the clerks belonging to the office were at that time in Toronto, only Dr. Dunlop, Mr. Reid* [* Mr. Galt's friend and ornate secretary.] and myself accompanied Mr. Galt to the landing-place to see him depart and cry "God speed!" But this is the way of the world. Those who should be most grateful when the hour of adversity dawns on their benefactor, are often the first to desert him.

On the same day the Doctor introduced me to one of our new Commissioners, Thomas Mercer Jones, Esq., a fine gentlemanly-looking person. The other Commissioner was the Hon. William Allen. These gentlemen were appointed by the directors to supersede Mr. Galt in the direction of the Company's affairs in Canada. On my return to Guelph, I received an intimation that I must prepare to take up my residence in Goderich, as my services in future would be required in the Huron tract.

A few days before my departure, I witnessed the most appalling land tornado (if so I may term it), I ever saw in my life. As this is a phenomenon seldom if ever witnessed in England, I think a particular description may possibly interest those readers who are unaccustomed to such eccentricities of Nature.

In my hunting excursions and rambles through the Upper Canadian forests, I had frequently met with extensive windfalls; and observed with some surprise that the fallen trees appeared to have been twisted off at the stumps, for they lay strewn in a succession of circles. I also remarked, that these windfalls were generally narrow, and had the appearance of a wide road slashed through the forest.

From observations made at the time, and since confirmed, I have no doubt Colonel Reid's theory of storms is a correct one, viz.:—"That all windstorms move in a circular direction, and the nearer the centre, the more violent the wind." Having seen the effects of several similar hurricanes since my residence in Canada West, I shall describe one which happened in the township of Guelph, during the early part of the summer of 1829.

The weather, for the season of the year (May) had been hot and sultry, with scarcely a breath of wind stirring. I had heard distant thunder from an early hour of the morning, which from the eastward is rather an unusual occurrence. About ten A.M. the sky had a most singular, I may say, a most awful appearance; presenting to the view a vast arch of rolling blackness, which seemed to gather strength and density as it approached the zenith. All at once the clouds began to work round in circles, as if chasing one another through the air. Suddenly, the dark arch of clouds appeared to break up into detached masses, whirling and eddying through each other in dreadful commotion. The forked lightning was incessant, accompanied by heavy thunder. In a short space the clouds seemed to converge to a point, which approached very near the earth, still whirling with great rapidity directly under this point; and apparently from the midst of the woods arose a black column in the shape of a cone, which instantly joined itself to the depending cloud: the sight was now grand and awful in the extreme.

Let any one picture to the imagination a vast column of smoke of inky blackness reaching from earth to heaven, gyrating with fearful velocity; bright lightnings issuing from the vortex—the roar of the thunder—the rushing of the blast—the crashing of timber—the limbs of trees, leaves and rubbish, mingled with clouds of dust, whirling through the air—a faint idea is then given of the scene.

"Through all the sky arise outrageous storms, And death stands threatening in a thousand forms; Clouds charged with loud destruction drown the day, And airy demons in wild whirlwinds play; Thick thunder-claps, and lightnings' vivid glare Disturb the sky, and trouble all the air."

I had ample time for observation as the hurricane commenced its desolating course about two miles from the town, through the centre of which it took its way, passing within fifty yards of the spot where a number of persons and myself were standing watching its fearful progress. As the tornado approached, the trees seemed to fall like a pack of cards before its irresistible current. After passing through the clearing made around the town, the force of the wind gradually abated, and in a few minutes died away entirely.

As soon as the storm was over, I went to see what damage it had done. From the point where I first observed the black column to rise from the woods and join the cloud, the trees were twisted in every direction. A belt of timber had been levelled to the ground about two miles in length, and about one hundred yards in breadth: at the entrance of the town it crossed the river Speed, and up-rooted about six acres of wood which had been thinned out and left by Mr. Galt as an ornament to his house.

The Eremosa road was completely blocked up for nearly half a mile, in the wildest confusion possible. In its progress through the town, it unroofed several houses, levelled the fences to the ground, and entirely demolished a frame-barn: windows were dashed in, and in one instance the floor of a log-house was carried up through the roof. Some hair-breadth escapes occurred, but, luckily, no lives were lost.

About twelve years since, a storm of this kind occurred in the north part of the township of Douro, though of less magnitude. I heard an intelligent settler who resided some years in the township of Madoc state that, during his residence there, a similar hurricane to the one I have described, but of a more awful character, passed through a part of Marmora and Madoc, which had been traced in a north-easterly direction upwards of forty miles into the unsurveyed lands, the uniform width of which appeared to be upwards of three quarters of a mile.

It appears very evident that storms of this description have not been unfrequent in the wooded regions of Canada; and it becomes a matter of interesting consideration, whether the clearing of our immense forests will not, in a great measure, remove the cause of these phenomena.

Dark, heavy clouds were gathering in the west, Wrapping the forest in funereal gloom; Onward they roll'd and rear'd each livid crest, Like death's murk shadows frowning o'er earth's tomb: From out the inky womb of that deep night Burst livid flashes of electric flame: Whirling and circling with terrific might, In wild confusion on the tempest came. Nature, awakening from her still repose, Shudders responsive to the whirlwind's shock Feels at her mighty heart convulsive throes; Her groaning forests to earth's bosom rock.

But, hark! what means that hollow rushing sound, That breaks the sudden stillness of the morn? Red forked lightnings fiercely glare around: What crashing thunders on the winds are borne! And see yon spiral column, black as night, Rearing triumphantly its wreathing form; Ruin's abroad, and through the murky light, Drear desolation marks the spirit of the storm. * * * * * * How changed the scene; the awful tempest's o'er; From dread array and elemental war The lightning's flash hath ceased, the thunder's roar— The glorious sun resumes his golden car.*

[* My description of this whirlwind, and the accompanying lines, have already appeared in the "Victoria Magazine," published in Canada West, under the signature of "Pioneer."]



CHAPTER XVIII.

THE HURON TRACT. — JOURNAL OF DR. DUNLOP. — HIS HARDSHIPS. — I LEAVE GUELPH FOR GODERICH. — WANT OF ACCOMODATION. — CURIOUS SUPPER. — REMARKABLE TREES. — THE BEVERLY OAK. — NOBLE BUTTER-WOOD TREES. — GODERICH. — FINE WHEAT CROP. — PURCHASE A LOG-HOUSE. — CONSTRUCTION OF A RAFT.

I HAD always wished to go to the Huron tract, whose fine lake, noble forests, and productive soil, have made it a source of wealth to many a settler. The climate too, was mild, and I had heard a great deal about it from my gifted and facetious friend Dr. Dunlop, whose services in exploring that part of their possessions were not only useful but inestimable to the Company, and, in fact, to emigration in general.

"Dr. Dunlop, the Warden of the Company's Woods and Forests, surveyed the great Huron tract in the summer of 1827, assisted by the Chief of the Mohawk nation, and Messrs. Sproat and MacDonald. They penetrated the huge untravelled wilderness in all directions, until they came out on the shores of the Huron, having experienced and withstood every privation that wanderers can possibly be subject to in such places."* [* Mac Taggart's "Three Years in Canada."]

The Doctor himself has given a very accurate account of the valuable resources of the Huron tract. He says in his journal—"I have already adverted to its nature and fertility, and think I may be justified in adding, such is the general excellence of the land, that if ordinary care can be taken to give each lot no more than its own share of any small swamp in its vicinity, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to find two hundred acres together in the whole territory, that would make a bad farm. Although the land may be capable of raising any kind of produce usual in that country, yet some spots are more particularly advantageous for particular crops. The black ash-swales (a kind of swamp) make the best ground for hemp; as by the scourging effect of two or three crops, the ground will be made more fit for the raising of wheat, for which, in the original state, it is too strong. The rich meadows by the side of the rivers, (more especially such as are annually overflowed,) are ready without farther preparation, for tobacco, hemp, and flax. The lower meadows, and meadows adjoining Beaver dams, which are abundant, produce at this moment enormous quantities of natural hay and pasture; and the rest of the land, for the production of potatoes, Indian corn, wheat, and other grain, is at least equal, if not superior, to any other land in the Canadas. Independent of the swamps, the timber on the land is very soon described.

"The sugar-maple is the principal growth, and the size and height which it, as well as other trees, attains, sufficiently evince the strength and power of the soil. Next to this come the beech, elm, and bass-wood, in various proportions. In some instances, the beech and elm predominate over the maple, but this is rare. Near the streams the hemlock is found; and interspersed through the whole is the cherry, butter-nut, the different species of oak, and the birch."* [* Mac Taggart's "Journal of Dr. Dunlop."]

In exploring this, then unknown, wilderness, Dr. Dunlop encountered many difficulties, and was more than once in danger of starvation— though an Indian Mohawk Chief shared his risks and perils.* [* Mac Taggart's "Journal of Dr. Dunlop."] As he told a story admirably well, I was delighted to hear him discuss his peregrinations over a glass of brandy-punch, of which he was very fond. Whatever might have been his feelings at the time, he only made a joke of his trials at the period in which he related them to me.

I should have experienced some regret in quitting Guelph, if the society had been more to my taste. The only persons of education in that town were, in fact, the Company's officers, many of whom I might reasonably expect to meet again at Goderich. Of course, I found some exceptions, but the average was not in favour of Guelph. Besides, the water was an attraction to me, as my Suffolk home was within a short distance of the German Ocean. Brought up so near a sea-port, my natural inclinations made me dislike an inland situation; and if I were not going to have a sea-side residence, at least the shores of the mighty Huron Lake came the nearest to it in my estimation.

I left Guelph early in June with Mr. Prior, the Company's agent at Goderich. Our road after leaving Springer's in Blenheim lay through the township of Wilmot to the southern boundary of the Huron tract, and from thence nearly in a straight line to the town of Goderich at the mouth of the river Maitland, on Lake Huron, on our route for a distance of nearly seventy miles, being bounded on the east by the townships of North Easthope, Ellice, Logan, McKillop, Hullett, and the east part of Goderich to the west, by South Easthope, Downie, Fullarton, Hibbert, Tucker Smith, and the west part of Goderich.

This road was a mere sleigh-track through the woods, newly cut out, and rarely exceeding twelve feet in width. At this time we saw only three log-cabins during the whole way, these being about twenty miles apart from each other. These three were kept by Dutch or German emigrants, who supplied travellers with whiskey and provisions—when they had any- -which was not always the case. Indeed, I can testify, to my sorrow, to the uncertainty of finding a decent table provided for guests by these foreigners; for I once had to stop at old Sebach's, the centre house, for the night, and being tired by a long day's march through the snow, I had calculated on making a capital supper. Not that I expected anything better than tea, fried pork and bread and butter, to which, hungry as I was, I should no doubt have done ample justice. Judge, then, of my astonishment and disappointment, when mine hostess placed before me a piece of dirty-looking Indian meal-bread, and a large cake of beef-tallow, and, to wash down this elegant repast, a dish of crust coffee without either milk or sugar, assuring me at the same time in her broken English, "That she had nothing better in the house till the return of her husband, who had gone fifty miles to the mill and store for a supply of flour, groceries, and other fixings."

Not being a Russian, I rejected the tallow with disgust, and made but a sorry meal of the other delicacies.

On our route, we crossed several pretty streams, the principal of which are the Avon, then called the Little Thames, the Big Thames, and the Black Water. The Bayfield does not cross the road, though it makes a bend close to it, and within sight. I believe I am correct in saying, that we did not cross a single cedar-swamp from the time we entered the Huron tract* till we reached Goderich, a distance of sixty-seven miles. I consider this block the finest tract of land I ever travelled over in Canada West.

[* "This interesting portion of the Company's possessions contains a million of acres in one block, within the compass of which a bad farm could scarcely be found. The soil is a rich black loam, on clay or limestone; and as it is entirely timbered with the best kind of hard wood, no land in the Province is so well adapted for the manufacture of potash, an object of considerable importance to the industrious settler. It is bounded, for an extent of sixty miles, by Lake Huron; is a separate district; and Goderich, its principal town, where the district courts are held, is situated at the confluence of the river Maitland with Lake Huron, where it forms an admirable harbour. The population of the town is seven hundred, and there are several good stores and shops in it; mechanics carrying on some useful trades. There are also an episcopal church and other houses of religious worship, and a good school, where the higher branches of the classics are taught, as well as the more ordinary routine of education."—Statistics published by the Canada Company.]

The land is well timbered with the best description of hard wood, amongst which is to be found in considerable abundance, the black cherry. This tree grows often to a large size, and is used extensively for furniture, particularly for dining-tables: if well made and polished, it is little inferior to mahogany, either in appearance or durability.

I remember, on this very journey, that Mr. Prior and myself were much struck by the size and magnificent appearance of one of these cherry- trees, which grew close to the road side, not far from the Big Thames. Two years afterwards, passing the same tree, I got out of my sleigh and measured the circumference as high as I could reach, which I found to be ten feet seven inches, and, I should think, it was not less than fifty feet in height from the ground to the first branch: it is a great pity to see such noble trees as these either burned or split up into fencing rails.

I think the largest tree of the hard wood species I ever saw in this country, was near Bliss's Tavern, in the township of Beverly, and it was called the Beverly-oak.* I was induced to visit this giant of the woods from the many accounts I had heard of its vast dimensions, and was, certainly, astonished at its size and symmetry. I measured it as accurately as I could about six feet from the ground, and found the diameter to be as nearly eleven feet as possible, the trunk rising like a majestic column towering upwards for sixty or seventy feet before branching off its mighty head. Mr. Galt, who was induced to visit this tree from my description has, in his "Autobiography," mentioned the height of the trunk from the ground to the branches, as eighty feet; but I think he has overrated it. I was accompanied to the tree by the landlord, who remarked, "that he calculated that he should cut that 'ere tree down some day, for he guessed it would make enough rails to fence the side of a ten acre field"

* * * * * * [* "On the road to Guelph, a short distance from Galt, there is an uncleared portion of the primeval forest, on the edge of the township of Beverly, where, in those days, a small tavern, convenient to rest the horses of travellers, was situated. One day, when I stopped at this house, while my horse was taking his corn, I strayed into the woods, not many hundred yards, and came to a tree, the most stupendous I had ever seen.

"At the first glance, the trunk reminded me of the London Monument, an effect of the amaze which the greatness of its dimensions produced. I measured its girth, however, at the height of a man from the ground, and it was thirty-three feet, above which the trunk rose without a branch to the height of at least eighty feet, crowned with vast branches.

"This was an oak, probably the greatest known, and it lifted its head far above the rest of the forest. The trees around, myrmidons of inferior growth, were large, massy, and vigorous, but possessed none of the patriarchal antiquity with which that magnificent 'monarch of the woods' was invested. I think, therefore, that I was not wrong in imagining it the scion of a forest that had passed away, the ancestral predecessor of the present woods.

"Had I been convinced it was perfectly sound, I would have taken measures for cutting it down and sending home planks of it to Windsor Castle. The fate that awaited it would have justified the profanation. The doubt of its soundness, however, and the difficulty of finding tools large enough to do it justice, procrastinated the period of its doom. I recommended the landlord of the tavern to direct his guests, from time to time, to inspect this Goliath of oaks."—Galt's "Autobiography."] * * * * * *

I replied, "Surely, you would not be such a Goth as to cut down such a splendid oak merely for fence-wood, when you have plenty of rail-timber which will answer that purpose equally well; and, besides, it may be the means of drawing customers to your tavern."

"I do not know what you mean by a Goth; but I do know, if I could get a crosscut saw long enough to cut that tree, I would not let it stand there long; for you see it is mighty straight in the grain, and would split like a ribbon."

Thus was this gigantic specimen of the primeval forest preserved for a time, because there was not a saw long enough to cut it through in Canada. I dare say there are many old oaks in England that exceed this in diameter; but I do not believe one is to be found whose length of trunk can be at all compared to it.

On the flats about a mile from the mouth of the Maitland, are some very large button-wood trees. There is one, in particular, growing near a fine spring of water, the circumference of which appeared very vast, though I did not measure it; but the tree was a complete shell, and had a sort of natural arched doorway, just high enough to admit a full- sized man. I was once inside this tree with Dr. Dunlop and eleven other persons, at the same time. The trunk of this tree forked at twelve or fourteen feet from the ground. There are several others of this species near to the one I have described, of very large growth, which apparently are sound, but not equalling it in size.

I left a noble oak-tree standing in the middle of one of my fields in the township of Douro, which I hoped I should have been able to preserve, as it was such a remarkably fine tree. It, however, was doomed to destruction; for in the summer of 1838, it was twice struck with lightning in the space of a week. The first time, the bark only was furrowed by the electric fluid, but at the second stroke it was split from the top to the bottom, and thrown down by the violence of the shock. I measured this tree correctly, and found the diameter, twenty-four feet from the ground, to be five feet three inches. The length of the trunk was forty-eight feet up to the first branch, and it was perfectly sound to within three or four feet of the soil.

Generally speaking, the white or American pine, from its vast length of trunk, contains a larger number of cubic feet than any other tree in the Canadian forest. I have seen several of these pines sold for masts, the trunks of which were upwards of one hundred feet in length, and full three feet in diameter, a third of the way up from the butt-end. There is very little pine-timber on the Huron tract, which, though a disadvantage in regard to building, is all the better in respect to the land, hard wood being the best indication of a good soil.

I did not—as I have said—regret my transfer to Goderich, though that flourishing town was then in its infancy, the most unpleasant aspect in which any Canadian settlement can be viewed. Still, I am pleased that I have had the opportunity of tracing some of these important places from their dawn to their present prosperous condition.

I found the general aspect of the country level. There is scarcely a rise of land sufficient to justify the appellation of hill from Wilmot to Goderich; but as you approach the lake, the land becomes more rolling, and better watered by fine spring streams.

I was quite delighted with the situation of Goderich, though the town- plot was only just surveyed. Three frame-houses were in process of building. A log-house, beautifully situated on a bold hill, overlooking the harbour, called by Dr. Dunlop, the Castle,* and a dozen or so of log-cabins, comprised the whole town of Goderich, most of the latter being inhabited by French Canadians and half-breeds. The upper town is situated on a fine cliff fronting the lake and harbour, and upwards of one hundred feet above the level of the water.

[* "In the afternoon of the following day, we saw afar off, by our telescope, a small clearing in the forest, and on the brow of a rising ground a cottage delightfully situated. The appearance of such a sight in such a place was unexpected, and we had some debate, if it could be the location of Dr. Dunlop, who had guided the land-exploring party already alluded to. Nor were we left long in doubt; for on approaching the place we met a canoe, having on board a strange combination of Indians, velveteens and whiskers, and discovered within the roots of the red hair, the living features of the Doctor. About an hour after, having crossed the river's bar of eight feet, we came to a beautiful anchorage of fourteen feet water, in an uncommonly pleasant small basin. The place had been selected by the Doctor, and is now the site of the flourishing town of Goderich."—Galt's "Autobiography."]

The lower town comprises a few acres of alluvial flat, only a few feet elevated above the river. This piece of land was destitute of trees or stumps, and had evidently been cleared many years ago by the Indians, who had cultivated it with Indian corn. I ploughed up this flat of land for the benefit of the Company, and sowed it with oats in the spring of '29; and, therefore, I can justly claim the honour—for the sake of which I did it—of putting the first plough into the ground of the Huron tract. I also put in four acres of wheat on the top of the hill near the castle, in the fall of the same year, the yield of which was upwards of forty bushels to the acre—a good yield for any country, especially when it is considered that at least one-twelfth of the ground may be fairly deducted for stumps of trees, stones, and other obstructions, usually found in all new clearings. I believe, however, I may say without exaggeration, that the Company's tract may safely challenge any other block of land of the same dimensions either in Canada East or West, for fertility of soil, average yield per acre, or healthiness of the climate.*

[* "The Canada Company's Huron tract is known to be one of the most healthy and fertile settlements in Canada. The tract in the year 1842 contained 7101 souls. In June last year (1849) the Huron district numbered 20,450 souls, according to official reports, exclusive of the townships of Bosanquet and Williams. The Canada Company's tract now contains a population of 26,000 souls, showing an increase of 18,900, and that the population has nearly quadrupled itself in seven years—a progress of settlement of a tract of country scarcely exceeded in any part of the North America."—Information to Emigrants by Frederick Widder, Esq.]

I bought a small log-house and town-lot, or rather the good-will of them, from a French Canadian, putting myself in his place with the Company, with whom I completed the purchase. The situation was very pretty, commanding a fine view of the Lake. I immediately prepared to build a suitable house, to receive my wife and family, whom I had been under the necessity of leaving behind me in Guelph, till I could make suitable preparations to receive them here.

At this time, there was only one saw-mill* in the whole Company's tract, and that was ten miles up the river, situated near the mouth of a large creek, which flowed into the Maitland. This mill was built close to one of the finest pine-groves in the block.

[* "In no situation can settlers be distant from a mill, as there are at convenient places distributed throughout the tract twelve grist- mills and twenty saw-mills, and the facilities for communication are very great; for seventeen of the townships are bounded on the one side by the great roads traversing the tract in two directions for one hundred miles in extent, and six of them are bounded by the Lake on the other side."—Statistics published by the Canada Company.]

I hired a man, who had been a raftsman on the Delaware, to go with me by land up to the mill, for a few thousand feet of boards, that I required for my new house. It was only seven miles to the mill by a new cut-out sleigh-track, through the township of Goderich as far as the Falls, which we crossed by wading the river just above them, which at that time we were able to do, though not without some caution; for, although the spring-floods were considerably abated, the water ran with great rapidity, and in some places was up to our middles; but with the help of a strong setting-pole, we got over with safety.

We made our little raft in three cribs, of a thousand feet of boards in each crib, which we connected together by short pieces of scantling, which are bored near each end with a two-inch auger and strung on the corner-pickets of each crib, thus uniting them in one length. At each end of the raft, a long oar is securely fixed, in temporary rowlocks for that purpose.

The whole course of the river, from the mill to the harbour at Goderich, is a strong rapid: two perpendicular falls occur in its course to the lake. The Upper, or Big Fall, is about six feet, and the Little Fall three. We made a capital run down, though in plunging over the first Fall we were up to our arm-pits in water. But our little raft rose gallantly to the surface; and we encountered no further difficulty.

I enjoyed my trip down the river amazingly. I do not know anything more delightful, when all goes well than being borne over the foaming rapids at the rate of eight or ten miles an hour. The channel of the Maitland is wide, and the banks picturesque. Our voyage did not exceed an hour, though the distance was above nine miles.



CHAPTER XIX.

MY NEW HOUSE AT GODERICH. — CARPENTRY AN ESSENTIAL ART. — AMERICAN ENERGY. — AGREEABLE VISITORS. — MY WIFE'S DISASTERS. — HINTS FOR ANGLERS. — THE NINE-MILE-CREEK FROLIC. — THE TEMPEST. — OUR SKIPPER AND HIS LEMON-PUNCH. — SHORT COMMONS. — CAMP IN THE WOODS. — RETURN ON FOOT. — LUDICROUS TERMINATION TO OUR FROLIC.

MY new house at Goderich was constructed with cherry-logs neatly counter-hewed both inside and out, the interstices between the logs being nicely pointed with mortar. I had no upstair-rooms, excepting for stowage. The ground-story I divided into a parlour, kitchen, and three bedrooms. After office-hours I used to work a good deal at the carpenter's bench—for I was always fond of it when a boy. I had made some useful observations, as well as tormenting our workmen on repairs at home, with the usual amount of mischief, and I now reaped the benefit of my juvenile experience. I was able to make the doors, and do nearly all the insidework of my house myself. Indeed, it is really essential for the well-doing of the emigrant, that he, or some members of his family, should have some knowledge of carpentry—in fact, be a jack-of-all-trades; and, in that excellent profession, educated persons, healthy in mind and body, excel the most.

There is a very true saying, that necessity is the mother of invention, and in no country is it better exemplified than in Canada. The emigrant has there, especially when distant from a town or settlement, to make a hundred shifts, substituting wood for iron, in the construction of various articles, such as hinges for barn-door gates, stable and barn- shovels, and a variety of other contrivances whereby both money and time are saved.

I have often heard young men say, they "could not" do this or do that. "Did you ever try?" is a fair question to such people. I believe that many persons, with average capacities, can effect much more than they give themselves credit for. I had no more been bred a carpenter than a civil engineer, in which last capacity I was holding office satisfactorily. My education had consisted of Latin, Greek, and French, and the mathematics. My time had been spent in my own country; riding, shooting, boating, filled up with a little amateur gardening.

Want of energy is not the fault of the Americans; they will dash at everything, and generally succeed. I had known them contract to do difficult jobs that required the skill of the engineer or regular architect, and accomplish them cleverly too, although they had never attempted anything of the kind before; and they generally completed their task to the satisfaction of the parties furnishing the contract. "I cannot do it" is a phrase not to be found in the Yankee vocabulary, I guess.

It is astonishing how a few years' residence in Canada or the United States brightens the intellects of the labouring classes. The reason is quite obvious. The agricultural population of England are born and die in their own parishes, seldom or never looking out into a world of which they know nothing. Thus, they become too local in their ideas, are awake to nought but the one business they have been brought up to follow; they have indeed no motive to improve their general knowledge.

But place the honest and industrious peasant in Canada, and, no matter how ignorant he may be, when he sees that by his perseverance and industry he will in a short time better his situation in life, and most likely become the possessor of a freehold, this motive for exertion will call forth the best energies of his mind, which had hitherto, for want of a proper stimulus, lain dormant. Having to act and think for himself, and being better acquainted with the world, he soon becomes a theoretical as well as a practical man, and consequently a cleverer and more enlightened person, than he was before in his hopeless servitude in the mother-country.

When I left Guelph, I had arranged with my wife that as soon as I could get the new house ready, I would send for her. I did not think that this could possibly be done before sleighing-time, as the newly-cut road was almost impassable for waggons. Judge, then, of my surprise when, on returning home from the store-house one day, I noticed the door of my log-cabin open, and saw a lovely curly-headed child sitting in the doorway. I could hardly believe my eyes—it was my own little Maria. My dear little boy had remained at Douro with my wife's sister Eliza, of whom he was so fond that my wife did not like to separate such friends from each other. On my entrance I found my wife surrounded by a pile of luggage, laughing heartily at my astonishment.

She told me, she felt so lonely that she determined to brave all the dangers of the road in order to join me. Accordingly, she hired a settler who was the owner of a waggon and a yoke of oxen, which she loaded with the most useful articles we required—bedding and bed- clothes, &c.,—reserving room in the waggon for herself, the child, and nursemaid.

During the whole of the first day's journey and part of the next, all went on smoothly enough, their route lying through settlements; but as soon as they entered the newly-cut road their difficulties commenced, and before they had traversed five miles, the waggon was twice upset. This so alarmed my poor wife, on account of the baby; that she durst not ride another step of the way, although the travellers had still upwards of sixty miles to go. Moreover, she was obliged to carry the child the entire distance; for their teamster had enough to do to look after and guide his cattle, and the servant girl was too young and too tired to render much assistance.

Fifteen miles a day was the outside distance they could persuade the oxen to travel, consequently, they were compelled to camp out two nights out of the six in which they were on the road. Luckily, the weather was dry and warm. At night the musquitoes were dreadfully annoying, as my poor little Maria's neck and arms too plainly showed.

During the afternoon of the second day, when within six miles of Trifogle's tavern, their intended resting-place for the night, they were overtaken by a man who was going in the same direction, who very politely—as my wife thought—offered to carry her baby part of the way. She was, of course, very glad to avail herself of his kind offer; nor did she perceive, till after he had got possession of the bairn, that he was intoxicated. She immediately demanded back her little treasure, but no inducement could persuade him to relinquish it, and he set off with the infant as fast as he could. In vain the poor mother besought him to stop—in vain she sobbed and cried. On he went, followed by my Mary, who found great difficulty in keeping up with him, which she did at first, till, at length, exhausted by the unusual fatigue, maternal anxiety, and the roughness of the road, she lost sight of him when about a mile from the tavern. He had walked off with his little burden.

She was now dreadfully alarmed, for night was fast coming on, and she did not know whether she was on the right track or not. Fortunately, a light through the trees extricated her from this dilemma: her only uneasiness was now for her child. She was soon, however, relieved from this uncertainty; for, on entering the house, there sat the man with the baby on his knee. The child appeared to be on very friendly terms with him, and had, no doubt, enjoyed herself amazingly while her bearer was running away with her.

He at once restored the child to her mother's arms, observing, "that he hoped she would give him the price of a quart of whiskey for his trouble, for the child was main heavy, God bless her."

My wife, of course, did not dispute the payment. She was only too glad to recover her little pet, whom she took good care not again to trust to masculine keeping, however tired she might be. So Maria remained safely in her mother's arms, for the remainder of the journey.

At length, when down-hearted and weary, the bright waters of the Huron gladdened their eyes, on the morning of the sixth day, and a few minutes afterwards they took possession of my log-cabin, and gave me the happy surprise already recorded.

"I wonder you were not afraid of encountering such hardships, and even danger, in travelling so many miles through the wild woods and on foot, and with that heavy child to carry in your arms," was my remark to my enterprising wife. She replied, "that there had certainly been more difficulties than she had anticipated; but had they been double, it would not have prevented her from joining me." So much for woman's love and devotion.

During the summer months, we were plentifully supplied with fish. On some days the harbour appeared to swarm with them. When the sun shone brightly, you could see hundreds lying near the surface. There was no difficulty in catching them, for the moment you threw in your bait, you had a fish on your hook.

In the early part of the season, I used to make an imitation mouse of a piece of musk-rat fur. This is a killing bait for trolling either for black bass or maskilonge—as the season advances, a red and white rag, or a small green-frog. But the best bait for the larger fish, such as salmon-trout and maskilonge, is a piece of brass, or copper, about the shape and size of the bowl of a tablespoon, with a large hook soldered upon the narrow end. If properly made, and drawn fast through the water, it will spin round and glitter, and thus is sure to attract the fish. I have caught hundreds by this method, and can therefore recommend it as the most certain. Your trolling line, which is attached to your left arm, should not be less than eighty or a hundred feet in length, and sufficiently leaded to sink the bait three or four feet beneath the surface, this line following the canoe as you paddle it swiftly through the water.

The scenery up the Maitland, from the harbour's mouth to the flats, or natural meadows, two miles from the lake, is very pretty and interesting. I think it would be difficult to find for a summer residence a more charming situation than the town of Goderich, and I might say with equal confidence, a more healthy one. The water is excellent, and the town-plot abounds with copious springs.

About a mile from the town, there is one of the largest and purest springs of the coldest and best water I ever drank. It gushes out of the side of a hill, and rushes down the declivity with great swiftness over its pebbly bed, till it is joined in its course, a few yards below the hill, by another spring of nearly equal size, within half a mile of its source, turning a grist-mill on its way to swell the waters of the Maitland.

Nine miles up the lake-shore, east of Goderich, a fine little stream empties its bright waters into the mighty Huron. A party of us had often expressed a wish to explore the outlet of this stream, and at length a day was fixed for the expedition. As we intended merely to pass one night at the river, and return the next day, we only supplied ourselves with as much provisions and grog as would last for that time—a great mistake, as it afterwards proved. However, I will not anticipate.

A large piece-log canoe was furnished by Mr. W. F. Gooding, our Goderich store-keeper, who was one of the party, which consisted of nine persons, including myself. All things being in readiness, Mr. Fullarton was dubbed Captain for the occasion. At an early hour one fine sunny morning in June, we stood out of the harbour with a light breeze, having rigged up two blankets as sprit-sails. They answered very well, as long as we had any wind, which, however, unfortunately soon died entirely away.

"Come, boys," said the Captain, "this won't do. We must raise a white- ash-breeze (meaning that we must have recourse to our paddles) or we shall not see the Nine-Mile Creek this day, I can tell you." The impetus given to our canoe by the vigorous application of eight paddles, independent of our steersman, made the De Witt Clinton (the name of our canoe) fly through the water, which was now as calm as a mirror. After the wind fell, the heat was intense; and, towards noon huge double-headed thunder-clouds showed themselves, slowly emerging out of the still waters of the Huron, far away to the north-west—a certain indication of a thunder-storm and change of wind.

About noon, we entered the creek by a very narrow channel, not ten feet in width. Indeed, the lake has choked up the entrance of the little harbour with sand and gravel, which, the water, descending the creek in summer-time, is not sufficient to disperse. I think, however, by clearing out, and piling the channel, and erecting two piers a short distance from each other, carried out upon the lake, and curving towards each other, until only sufficient space is left between them for the entrance of steam-boats and schooners, it might yet be made navigable. The harbour at Cobourg has been built something on this plan, which answers tolerably well; but if it had had a creek only the size of this I am describing, it would have been much better, as the current is a great help in clearing out the sand and gravel.

On crossing the bar, we found ourselves in a snug little basin, sufficiently deep for a vessel drawing six or seven feet water. We landed on a little peninsula, between the lake and the harbour, and commenced operations for cooking.

After dinner, we paddled through the harbour, and up the river, as far as we could go, which was only a very short distance, the navigation being interrupted by a pretty fall of water, which tumbled from ledge to ledge, like a succession of stone stairs, stretching from bank to bank across the stream, and forming, as the Americans would say, an elegant mill-privilege.

Since I left Goderich, a township, called Ashfield, has been laid out north of the Company's township of Colborne; the principal place of which is the village of Port Albert—the very spot we went to explore.

What a difference a few years make in a new country like Canada! With the aid of a compass, or by following the course of some unknown stream, with much toil and difficulty we make our way back for miles, through dense forests, swamps, and creeks; scale the rocky precipice, or launch the light bark-canoe on some far distant lake. We travel the same route twenty-five years afterwards, and the forests have bowed their lofty heads—the swamps are drained—the rivers bridged, and the steamer ploughs the inland wave, where shortly before glided the canoe of the hunter. Such is no over-coloured picture. I have seen it in my day realized many a time. The Huron tract, and the county of Peterborough, are the proofs of my assertion; and various other settlements I could name, would equally bear me out.

But to return to our expedition—or as I might with greater truth say— our pic-nic, for we did little else than paddle up and down the creek, ramble about the falls, and eat and drink whenever we felt inclined. In this manner we spent the first day; till the coming night, and the distant growl of the thunder, warned us to prepare for our night-bivouac.

One of our party, Mr. Brewster—the professor, as we generally called him—from the circumstance of his being a near relation of Sir David Brewster, the talented author of "Natural Magic," had a small tent- cloth with him, but not sufficiently large for the whole party. It was, therefore, determined that four of us should sleep under the canoe, and the remaining five under the tent. Quite a contention now arose between us, as to who should be the favoured possessors of the tent.

Not liking the appearance of the weather, I resigned any pretensions I might have had to the canvas, knowing the canoe was, from its length and size, capable of effectually sheltering four persons. We, accordingly, turned the canoe bottom upwards, and raised one side of it sufficiently high to allow us to creep under. To keep it in that position, we supported the raised edge on some forked sticks; and a quantity of hemlock brush and fern, spread evenly under it, made as good a bed as I would care to sleep on in hot weather. Our companions pitched their tent close beside us, so that we might be more sociable. After supper, we amused ourselves by singing songs, telling stories, and—if the truth must be told—drinking whiskey-punch.

The lightning was now incessant, illuminating the harbour and lake, and revealing dark masses of clouds, piled upon one another in endless succession. Few spectacles are more grand than the coming storm, or more awful when it bursts in its wildest fury. Such was its appalling character on this night. For the last hour I had been watching its progress, and admiring the brilliant forked lightning, and listening to the deep-toned thunder, which woke the lone echoes of the wood-crowned heights.

A few large drops of rain warned us to seek the friendly shelter of our respective camps. I had just settled myself snugly, when our skipper came to me with a jug of lemon-punch fresh mixed. I declined taking any more. He was too old a stager, however, to be put off that way, and was proceeding to show me the necessity of taking a night-cap, when he was saved all the trouble of any farther solicitation, and me of refusal, by a blinding flash of lightning, followed by a succession of deafening reports. At the same instant, the wind burst upon us like a whirlwind, prostrating in its irresistible fury our unfortunate skipper, punch, and all. As for the tent, it was whisked half across the harbour, in one blast, and the unfortunate inmates were left exposed to all the pelting of the pitiless storm, which raged with unmitigated violence till the dawn of day. We made room under the canoe for the professor and our skipper, the utmost we could accommodate. The three remaining unfortunate fellows were left to brave the tempest as they best might.

The next morning, the lake was white with breakers. The storm of the preceding night had brought a strong north-wester in its train, so that we found it impossible to launch our canoe—and, indeed, if we had, it would have been unsafe to have attempted the passage therein; there was nothing else for us but patience. But the worst part of the business was, that we had barely sufficient provisions for breakfast, and what the professor said—"Was worse than all—there was not a single horn of whiskey left in the jar."

The merchant and three of our party now determined to take the woods, and endeavour to reach Goderich by that route, leaving us to follow with the canoe if the wind should fall, of which, however, there appeared but little chance.

It now became expedient that we should look out for food of some description, as there was no doubt we should have to pass another night. On examining the state of our larder, we found that our whole stock consisted of half a loaf of bread, and a few ounces of sugar— rather short commons for four hungry men, even for a single meal.

We had no gun with us, or any fishing-lines. I had, it is true, a spear, but there was too much wind to fish in the harbour. Luckily, I bethought myself of the falls up the creek, where there was a pool sheltered by the woods. Thither we went with the canoe, and succeeded in spearing a number of suckers, which are, without exception, the softest and worst of all Canadian fish, especially in the hot months; but even bad suckers are better than nothing. Our first starvation- dinner consisted of a dish of boiled fish, a little bread, and a cup of hemlock-tea; our supper, boiled fish without bread, and hemlock-tea without sugar.

To amuse ourselves, we built a nice camp on a wooded point overlooking the harbour, and arranged everything comfortably to pass the night; and, although we had such bad commons, we were merry enough, considering we had nothing stronger to drink than hemlock-tea.

In the morning, as appearances were no better in respect to the weather, and as we were heartily sick of boiled suckers, we determined to do—as some of our party had done previously—take the bush-route for Goderich.

Accordingly, we crossed the harbour in the canoe, which we hid amongst the bushes, and commenced our journey along the lake-shore. In some places we found tolerably good walking, while in others we were compelled to mount the cliffs to avoid the break of the surges, where headlands jutted out into the lake. For the most part, however, we were enabled to travel upon natural terraces about half way up the bank, which I should think averages nearly one hundred feet in height.

To our great delight, we discovered an abundance of fine wild strawberries, the largest and most delicious I had ever seen. We found this a very seasonable refreshment. The day was fine, and we enjoyed the prospect, which, viewed from some of the highest points of land, was truly magnificent.

About four o'clock in the afternoon we reached Goderich, weary and half-starved. Thus ended our memorable pic-nic to the Nine-Mile Creek.



CHAPTER XX.

CHOICE OF A LOCATION. — THE COMPANY'S LANDS. — CROWN LANDS. — TABLES PUBLISHED BY THE CANADA COMPANY. — PROGRESSIVE IMPROVEMENT OF THE HURON TRACT.

AFTER twenty-seven years' residence in Canada West, it may be reasonably inferred that I am justly entitled, from my long experience, to give a fair opinion as to the best chances of location at present available to the emigrant.

On mature consideration, I must give the preference to the Huron tract, as affording a greater facility for settlement, and this for three reasons. First, on account of the excellent roads constructed by the Company—an inestimable boon, which none but the early pioneer can fully appreciate. Secondly, because of the excellent quality of the soil, which is remarkably free from surface-stone, that every old settler knows is both troublesome and expensive to clear away. And, thirdly the low price of these lands, and the facility of payment. Indeed, their system of leasing affords the poor man every chance. I shall copy a table of the yearly rent of farms leased on this plan by the Company, for the information of those of my readers who contemplate emigrating to Canada West. The present price of the Company's lands in the Huron tract, is from 12 shillings 6 pence to 20 shillings currency per acre.

The Company dispose of their lands, according to quality and situation, for ready cash, or by lease for a term of ten years. In the latter case no money is required to be paid down, the lease being granted upon the following terms:—

s.d. L. s. d. 100 acres, at 2 0 per acre, ann. rent 0 10 0 and no more. " 3 6 " " 0 12 0 " " 5 0 " " 0 18 0 " " 6 3 " " 1 4 0 " " 7 6 " " 1 10 0 " " 8 9 " " 1 17 0 " " 10 0 " " 2 5 0 " " 11 3 " " 2 12 0 " " 12 6 " " 3 0 0 " " 13 9 " " 3 7 6 " " 16 3 " " 3 15 0 " " 17 6 " " 4 2 6 "

The rent is payable on the first day of February in each year, full power being reserved to the settler to purchase the freehold, and take his deed for the land he occupies, at any time during the lease, an arrangement, of course, saving all future payment of rent.

Many persons unacquainted with the country, might object to pay from twelve shillings and six pence to twenty shillings for the Company's lands, when they see that the Government price on the wild lands belonging to the Crown, in most townships, is only eight shillings per acre.

However, they must recollect, that all the choice lands belonging to the Crown have long since been located; and unless the emigrant is prepared to go back into the remote townships, he cannot expect to get land as good as that belonging to the Canada Company.

Indeed, the only Crown-lands which could at all compete with the Company's lands are the townships lately surveyed north of the Huron track to the River Saugeen, and the new settlements of Owen's Sound and the Queen's Bush.

In a report, drawn up and published by Daniel Lizars, clerk of the peace for the united counties of Huron, Perth, and Bruce, May, 1851, he says,—

"In this favoured portion of the province of Upper Canada, blest with a salubrious climate and a fertile soil, watered with crystal springs and brooks in every direction, reposing upon a table-land whose natural drainage flows uninterruptedly onwards to the streams and great rivers which intersect it in every quarter towards the noble Huron, or Lake St. Clair, the energies of the people have been steadily devoted to practical progress and improvement; having, in the short period above alluded to, brought upwards of eighty thousand acres of the wilderness into cultivation, erected five thousand dwelling-houses, fifty-six schools, fourteen churches, twelve grist mills, with nineteen run of stores, five oat and barley-mills, five distilleries, two breweries, eight tanneries, and twenty-four pot and pearl-ash factories."

"Among other matters which crowned their industry in 1850, I may state the following productions:—

Wheat . . . . . 292,949 bushels. Barley . . . . . 13,012 " Rye . . . . . 2,181 " Oats . . . . . 215,415 " Peas . . . . . 54,657 " Indian Corn. . . . 5,352 " Potatoes. . . . . 210,913 " Buck-wheat . . . . . 673 " Mangel-wurzel . . . . 297 " Turnips . . . . . 143,725 " Hay . . . . . 12,823 tons. Flax or Hemp . . . . 7,359 pounds. Maple Sugar. . . . 351,721 " Wool . . . . 54,347 pounds. Fulled cloth . . . 10,303 yards. Linen, or cotton cloth 1,197 " Flannel, or other unfulled cloth 41,397 " Cheese for Market . . 7,761 pounds. Butter for Market . . 58,873 " Beef, or Pork for Market 1,308 barrels.

"And they further rejoice in the possession of the following stock:—

Neat Cattle . . . 26,260 Horses . . . . . 2,646 Sheep . . . . . . 20,022 Hogs . . . . . . 14,655

"The above gratifying examples speak loudly for the industry of the settlers; and where hired labour can, with difficulty, be obtained at a high remuneration, notwithstanding the yearly increased ratio of new comers, and, moreover, where all are diligently employed in the onward march to happiness and independence, we may truly be thankful to a superintending Providence, that prosperity is in the ascendant."

Mr. Lizars states in another part of his Report, that the population of the Huron district

In 1841, was . . . . . 5,600 In 1847, six years afterwards 16,641 increase 11,043 In 1848, one year do . . . 20,450 " 3,807 In 1850, two years do. . . 26,933 " 6,483

According to this ratio of increase, we may safely infer the population at the present time (1852), to exceed thirty-two thousand souls; an increase almost incredible; as, upon reference to Smith's Work on Canada, it will be found that the Huron district has made more rapid progress since its first settlement in 1827, than Lower Canada did in one hundred and four years; its population then being (in 1721), 24,511.

Many contradictory statements have been made and published in respect to what is the real actual grain average of Canada West. My own opinion is, that even could a truthful average be obtained, it would throw very little light on the real capability of the land—and for this reason. One-half of the emigrants who settle upon land in Canada, and adopt cultivation as their employment, are weavers, tinkers, tailors, sailors, and twenty other trades and professions. It must be the work of years to convert such settlers into good practical farmers. In such cases, how can a fair yield be extracted from land ignorantly cultivated? But I will venture to affirm, that wherever good farming is in practice, as good an average yield will be obtained, as in any country in the world.

"The following average of ten years for the Huron tract, has been published:—Wheat, 25 bushels; barley, 30 bushels; oats, 40 bushels; rye, 30 bushels; potatoes, 250 bushels per acre. Swedish turnips, mangel-wurzel, and other roots of a similar kind, are not yet sufficiently cultivated, to enable an average yield to be given; but it may very safely be said, that, with similar care, culture, and attention, the produce will not be less per acre than in England. Indeed, it may be said with truth to apply to every grain except beans, which do not thrive well in the Canadian climate."



CHAPTER XXI.

THE KING PROCLAIMED IN THE BUSH. — FETE AND BALL IN THE EVENING. — MY YANKEE FELLOW-TRAVELLER. — AWFUL STORM. — MY LONELY JOURNEY. — MAGICAL EFFECT OF A NAME.

I WAS busy in the storehouse one afternoon, when Mr. Prior entered with a newspaper in his hand, which he had just received from the old country.

"I see by this paper, Strickland, that George IV. is dead; and that his Majesty King William IV. has been proclaimed. Now, I think, we must give the workmen a holiday on this memorable occasion."

"In what manner do you intend to celebrate the day?" was my rejoinder.

"I have been thinking," he replied, "of making a little fete, and inviting all the settlers within reach to assemble on the Button-wood Flats. We will have some refreshments served round; and if the day is fine, I have no doubt we shall enjoy ourselves much."

Due notice having been given, upon the appointed day every-one within ten miles assembled on the Flats, dressed in their best attire; and ready to show their loyalty in any way Mr. Prior might think proper to recommend.

As soon as the squire made his appearance, he ascended a large stump; and, in a patriotic and loyal speech, informed us "that he had called this meeting to hear him proclaim his most gracious Majesty King William IV."

He then read the proclamation, which was received with nine rounds of British cheers. Our party then formed a large circle by joining hands; and sang the national anthem, accompanied by the Goderich band, which was composed of two fiddles and a tambourine. "Rule Britannia" for our sailor-king was also played and sung—I was going to say in good style, but at all events with great loyalty and enthusiasm.

As soon as this ceremony was over, a pail of whiskey, with a tea-cup floating on the surface, was handed round, followed by another pail containing spring-water. Every person present drank his Majesty's health; even the fair sex, on this propitious occasion, did not disdain to moisten their pretty lips with the beverage.

The eating and drinking part of the festival now commenced in earnest. We had seated ourselves on the grass, under the shade of four or five immense button-wood trees, which effectually sheltered us from the scorching rays of the sun. In the centre of the group, the union-jack of Old-England waved gracefully above our heads—

"The flag that braved a thousand years The battle and the breeze."

As soon as we had eaten and drunk to our satisfaction, a dance was proposed and acceded to by the party. The band struck up "The Wind Shakes the Barley:" country dances, Scotch reels, and "French fours," were kept up with great spirit on the level turf—"All under the greenwood tree."

"For all that day to the rebeck gay They danced with frolicsome swains."

Those of our party who did not patronize the dance, amused themselves with ball-playing and a variety of old English games.

The day was lovely; and the spot chosen for our sports is one of the most beautiful natural meadows I ever beheld. We kept our fete in honour of King William on a smooth green semi-circular meadow, of large extent, ornamented here-and-there with clumps of magnificent button- wood trees.* Towards the north, skirting the meadow, a steep bank rises in the form of an amphitheatre, thickly-wooded—tree above tree, from the base to the crown of the ridge. The rapid waters of the Maitland form the southern and western boundary of this charming spot,—then not a little enhanced by the merry groups which dotted the surface of the meadow, and woke its lone echoes with music and song.

[* Both the wood and the growth of this tree greatly resemble the sycamore.]

I was much amused by a Yankee mill-wright, who had contracted to build a large grist-mill for the Company, both in Guelph and Goderich. He appeared enchanted with the whole day's proceedings.

"I do declare," he said, "if this don't almost put me in mind of the 4th of July. Why, you Britishers make as much fuss proclaiming your king as we do celebrating our anniversary of Independence. Well, it does me good to look at you. I vow if I don't feel quite loyal. Come, let us drink the old gentleman's health agin. I guess, I feel as dry as a sand-bank after so much hollering."

The setting sun warned us to discontinue our pastime and prepare for a move. Before doing so, however, the squire again came forward, and after thanking us for our attendance, loyalty, &c., he proposed "we should give three cheers more for the King, and three for Queen Adelaide," which were given with all the power of our lungs, not a little aided by sundry potations imbibed by the loyal in drinking their Majesties' healths during the day's proceeding.

Three cheers were then given for the Canada Company, three for the Commissioners, and three for the old Doctor. Thus terminated the proclamation of our sovereign in the Bush.

Mr. Prior had kindly issued invitations to the elite to a ball and supper at Reid's Hotel, which was well attended. The refreshments were excellent, the supper capital; and the dancing was kept up with great spirit till day-light warned us to depart.

The next day, I started for Guelph with the Yankee mill-wright, whom I found a clever, shrewd man. He told me he had travelled over a great part of the Western States and Canada; but in all his wanderings he had never seen a section of country, of the same size, that pleased him equal to the Huron tract.

"I guess, when this country of your'n is once cleared up, and good roads made, and the creeks bridged, there won't be such another place in all creation."

"What makes you think so?" I enquired.

"Wal, just look what a fine frontage you have on that 'ere big pond (he meant Lake Huron) and good harbours and land that can't be beat not no how. All you want is 'to go a-head,' and you may take my word for it that this will be the garden of Canada yet."

We had only one horse between us, which belonged to the Doctor, so that we were obliged to ride turn about. In this manner we got on pretty well, so that by four o'clock we were within two miles of old Sebach's. The day had been excessively hot, and for the last hour we had heard distant thunder. We, therefore, pushed on with redoubled energy, in hopes of escaping the storm.

Ever since I had witnessed the devastating effects of the whirlwind which passed through Guelph, and which I have described in a previous chapter, I had a dread of being exposed in the woods to the fury of such a tempest. In this instance, however, we had the good fortune to reach the shanty just as the rain commenced; and well for us it proved that we had gained a shelter for ourselves and steed; for I seldom witnessed a more terrific storm. The lightning was awful, accompanied by the loudest thunder I ever heard. The volleys of heavy hail-stones on the shingled roof, together with the rushing sound of the wind, and the crash of falling trees, made it impossible for us to hear a word that was said. Indeed, I did not feel much inclined for conversation; for I could not help meditating on the peril we had escaped. Had the storm commenced an hour or two earlier or later, we should have bean exposed to its utmost fury, as there was no place of refuge nearer than twenty miles either way.

To show the terrible danger we had avoided, I counted a hundred and seventy-six large trees that had fallen across the road between Sebach's and Trifogle's—a distance not exceeding twenty miles.

What a contrast this road now presents to what it was when I used to be in the habit of travelling over it! I remember, once having been sent on some important business to the settlement, which admitted of no delay. It was late in November; the snow had fallen unusually early, and there was no horse then to be procured at Goderich; so that I was obliged to walk without even a companion to cheer the solitary way. I found the walking exceedingly laborious: the snow was fully a foot deep and unbroken, save by the foot-marks of some lonely traveller.

I was very curious to learn who the person could be who had been necessitated to take such a long journey through the wilderness alone. The second day of my journey, my curiosity was gratified by seeing the name of the person written in large characters in the snow. I stopped and read it with much interest: it was that of a Scotchman I knew,—one James Haliday. After reading that name, it appeared as if half the loneliness of the road was gone; for I knew from the freshness of the track, that a human being was travelling on the same path, and that he was, perhaps, not far ahead.