LETTER IV.
New-Year’s Day of 1872 was one of those exceptionally beautiful days, when hope is generated in the saddest heart, and when the most pressing cares and anxieties retire for at least a time into the background of our lives. The sky was blue and clear, the sun bright, and the air quite soft and balmy for the time of year. We had had some bitter cold and gloomy weather, and we found the change most delightful. As in France we were in the habit of making presents among ourselves on this day, I looked over all my stores with a view to keeping up the same pretty custom here; but alas! in the absence of all shops I was sorely puzzled. At last I made all right by giving pencils and paper for scribbling to the children; Eau de Cologne, sweet-scented soap, and pots of pomatum to the elders of the party; and finished off with a box of Bryant and May’s “ruby matches” to C. W., who considered them a great acquisition. Your brother E. came over for the whole day. He now boarded and lodged with C——s, to make a little more room for your sister F.’s confinement, which we expected at the end of the month. I watched E. with delight as he felled an enormous birch tree in honour of the day; but though placed in perfect safety myself, I could not avoid a thrill of fear for him, as this monarch of the forest came crashing down. Fatal accidents very seldom occur, but new settlers, inexperienced and unused to the axe, sometimes give themselves serious cuts. Your brother and brother-in-law have had many narrow escapes, but fortunately, as yet, are uninjured. Your brother C——s before we came gave himself a very severe cut, which prevented his chopping for some weeks. One of the settlers told your brother that when he first began chopping he had given himself a most dangerous wound, the axe having glanced from the tree on to his foot; for weeks after the accident he stood in a washing-tub for security while chopping his fire-wood. This account much amused us, and E——d made a neat little caricature of P. in his tub chopping.
I was greatly disappointed in the Canadian forest, and did not think it half as beautiful as I had been led to expect, for though there are certainly some very tall pines, and these of a considerable girth, yet being so closely packed together and hemmed in with small trees and a thick undergrowth of brushwood, they always seem cramped, and their lofty tops unable to spread out to their full size. Hurricanes here are of frequent occurrence, and at these times it is not unusual for full half an acre of trees to be entirely laid flat, giving the greatest trouble to the settler when he wants to clear. At times the “windfall,” as it is called, is a narrow belt of uprooted trees extending for miles, and distinctly marking the path of the hurricane through the forest. I was less astonished at the constant fall of the trees after examining an enormous pine lying on C——s’ land, which was blown down last year. The roots of this tree seemed to have formed an enormous web or network under the surface of the ground, and only a few large fibres here and there appeared to have gone to any depth. I missed the umbrageous oaks, elms, and beeches of our own parks, and also the open forest glades which so greatly enhance the beauty of our woodland scenery. I am told that the trees in the States are much larger and finer, but of this I am of course incompetent to judge, never having been there. The most beautiful tree here is certainly the “balsam,” a slender, delicate tree whose feathery branches droop gracefully to within a few feet of the ground.
We found the winter fearfully cold, the thermometer being at times forty degrees below zero. We had great difficulty in keeping ourselves sufficiently clothed for such a season. All people coming to the Bush bring clothes far too good for the rough life they lead there. In coming out we had no means of providing any special outfit, and therefore brought with us only the ordinary wardrobes of genteel life. We soon found that all silks, delicate shawls, laces and ornaments, are perfectly useless here. Every article we possess of that kind is carefully put away in our trunks, and will probably never see daylight again, unless indeed that, like Mrs. Katy Scudder in the “Minister’s Wooing,” we may occasionally air our treasures. What we found most useful was everything in the shape of woollen or other thick fabrics, winter dresses, warm plaid shawls, flannels, furs, etc.; of these we had a tolerable stock, and as the cold increased we put one thing over another till we must have often presented the appearance of feather-beds tied in the middle with a string. Indeed, as our gentlemen politely phrased it, we made complete “guys” of ourselves, and I must say that they were not one whit behind us in grotesque unsightliness of costume. Your brothers sometimes wore four or five flannels one over the other, thick jerseys and heavy overcoats when not actually at work, and pairs upon pairs of thick woollen socks and stockings, with great sea-boots drawn over all; or in deep snow “moccasins” or else “shoe-packs,” the first being made by the Indians, of the skin of the moose-deer, and the second mostly of sheep-skins. The great mart for these articles is at the Indian settlement of “Lachine” on the St. Lawrence, near Montreal. They also wore snow-shoes, which are not made like the Laplanders’ with skates attached for sliding, but simply for walking on the surface of the deep snow. They consist of a framework of wood three feet long by one and a half wide, filled up with strips of raw deer-skin interlaced, and in shape resembling a fish, more like a monstrous sole than any other. We ladies, too, were thankful to lay aside our French kid boots and delicate slippers, and to wrap our feet and legs up so completely that they much resembled mill-posts. Had you or any of our dear friends seen us in our Esquimaux costume, you would certainly have failed to recognise the well-dressed ladies and gentlemen you had been in the habit of seeing. To crown all, your brother-in-law and C——s had goat-skin coats brought from France, real Robinson Crusoe coats, such as are worn by the French shepherds, and these they found invaluable. We were very sorry that E——d had not one likewise.
Our occupations were manifold; hard work was the order of the day for every one but me; but all the work I was allowed to do was the cooking, for which I consider that I have a special vocation. A great compliment was once paid me by an old Indian officer in our regiment, who declared that Mrs. K. could make a good curry, he was sure, out of the sole of a shoe!
At other times I read, wrote letters, and plied my knitting-needles indefatigably, to the great advantage of our little colony, in the shape of comforters, baby-socks, mittens, Canadian sashes and petticoats for the little children. Sometimes I read to the children out of their story-books, but their happiest time was when they could get your sister P——e to give them an hour or two in the evening of story-telling. You know what a talent she possesses for composing, both in prose and verse, stories for little people, and with these she would keep them spell-bound, to the great comfort of the elders of the party, and of their poor mother especially, who towards night felt much fatigued.
Dear children! they required some amusement after the close confinement of the winter’s day. Meanwhile the gentlemen were busy from morning till night chopping down trees in readiness for burning in spring. This is mostly done in mid-winter, as they are reckoned to chop more easily then.
You must not suppose that all this time we had no visitors. By degrees many of the settlers scattered over the neighbourhood came to see us, some, doubtless, from kindly motives, others from curiosity to know what the strangers were like. I found some of them pleasant and amusing, particularly those who had been long in the country, and who could be induced to give me some of their earlier Bush experiences. A few of them seemed to possess a sprinkling of higher intelligence, which made their conversation really interesting.
One very picturesque elderly man, tall, spare, and upright, came to fell some pine-trees contiguous to the house, which much endangered its safety when the hurricanes, so frequent in this country, blew. He had begun life as a ploughboy on a farm in my beloved county of Kent, and had the unmistakable Kentish accent. It seemed so strange to me at first, to be shaking hands and sitting at table familiarly with one of a class so different from my own; but this was my first initiation into the free-and-easy intercourse of all classes in this country, where the standing proverb is, “Jack is as good as his master!”
I found all the settlers kindly disposed towards us, and most liberal in giving us a share of their flower-seeds, plants, and garden produce, which, as new-comers, we could not be supposed to have. They were willing also to accept in return such little civilities as we could offer, in the shape of books and newspapers from the old country, and sometimes medicines and drugs, which could not be got in the settlement. There might be a little quarrelling, backbiting, and petty rivalry among them, with an occasional dash of slanderous gossip; but I am inclined to think not more than will inevitably be found in small communities.
As a body, they certainly are hard-working, thrifty, and kind-hearted. Almost universally they seem contented with their position and prospects. I have seldom met with a settler who did not think his own land the finest in the country, who had not grown the largest turnip ever seen, and who was not full of hope that the coveted railway would certainly pass through his lot.
At this time I felt an increasing anxiety about your sister’s confinement, which was now drawing near. That such an event should take place in this desolate wilderness, where we had no servants, no monthly-nurse, and not even a doctor within reach, was sufficiently alarming. To relieve my mind, your brother-in-law went about the neighbourhood, and at last found a very respectable person, a settler’s wife, not more than three miles off, who consented to be our assistant on this momentous occasion, and he promised to go for her as soon as dear F——e should be taken ill.
We had been made a little more comfortable in the house, as your brother-in-law and brother had made a very tolerable ceiling over our bed-places, and your brother had chopped and neatly piled up at the end of the room an immense stock of fire-wood, which prevented the necessity of so often opening the door.
We felt now more than ever the want of fresh meat, as the children could not touch the salt pork, and were heartily tired of boiled rice and dumplings, which were all the variety we could give them, with the exception of an occasional egg. In this emergency your brother C——s consented to sell me a bull calf, which he intended bringing up, but having also a cow and a heifer, and fearing to run short of fodder, he consented to part with him. Thus I became the fortunate possessor of an animal which, when killed, fully realised my misgivings as to its being neither veal nor beef, but in a transition state between the two. It had a marvellous development of bone and gristle, but very little flesh; still we made much of it in the shape of nourishing broth and savoury stews, and as I only paid seven dollars for it, and had long credit, I was fully satisfied with my first Bush speculation.
The 18th of January arrived. The day had been very cold, with a drifting, blinding snow; towards evening a fierce, gusty wind arose, followed by pitch darkness. The forest trees were cracking and crashing down in all directions. We went to bed. At two a.m., having been long awake, I heard a stir in the room, and dear F.’s voice asking us to get up. What my feelings were I leave you to imagine—to send for help three miles off, in such a night, was impossible, for even with a lantern your brother-in-law could not have ventured into the Bush. Fortunately, we had no time to be frightened or nervous. We removed the sleeping children to our own bed, made the most comfortable arrangement circumstances would admit of for dear F——e, and about three a.m., that is to say, in less than an hour after being called, our first Bush baby was born, a very fine little girl.
Your sister P——e, who had been reading up for the occasion, did all that was necessary, with a skill, coolness and self-possession which would have done honour to “Dr. Elizabeth Black!”
I did indeed feel thankful when I saw my child safe in bed, with her dear baby-girl, washed, dressed, and well bundled up in flannel, lying by her side, she herself taking a basin of gruel which I joyfully prepared for her. God “tempers the wind to the shorn lamb.”
We could well believe this when we found your sister recover even more quickly than she had done in France, where she had so many more comforts and even luxuries; nor was she this time attacked by ague and low fever, from which she had always suffered before.
This sudden call upon our energies made me glad that my wandering life in the army had rendered me very independent of extraneous help, and that I had taught you all from childhood never to call a servant for what you could easily do with your own hands. The very first thing people must learn in the Bush, is to trust in God, and to help themselves, for other help is mostly too far off to be available.
At the end of this month, when I felt that I could safely leave dear F——e, I determined to go to B——e and sign for my land. The not having done so before had long been a cause of great anxiety.
I had been more than four months in the country, had begun to clear and to build upon my lot, and yet from various causes had not been able to secure it by signing the necessary papers. These having been sent to France, and having missed me, had been duly forwarded here. Till the signing was completed, I was liable at any moment to have my land taken up by some one else. Accordingly your brother wrote to B—— for a cutter and horse, and directed the driver to come as far into the Bush as he could.
We started on a very bright, cold morning, but I had walked fully three miles before we met our sledge, which was much behind time. I never enjoyed anything in the country so much as this my first sleighing expedition. The small sleigh, or cutter as it is sometimes called, held only one, and I was nestled down in the bottom of it, well wrapped up, and being delightfully warm and snug, could enjoy looking at the very picturesque country we were rapidly passing through. I did, however, most sincerely pity your brother and the driver, who nearly perished, for sitting on the front seat they caught all the wind, which was piercing. We stopped midway at a small tavern, where we dined, and I can truly say that in spite of the dirty table-cloth and the pervading slovenliness and disorder of the house and premises, I found everything enjoyable, and above all the sense of being for a few hours at least freed from my long imprisonment in the woods.
It was late in the afternoon when we arrived at B——e, where we went to the N. A. Hotel, and were made very comfortable by its kind mistress. The next morning at ten a.m. we went to the magistrate’s office, where I signed for my one hundred acres, and of course came away with the conscious dignity of a landed proprietor.
I was charmed with the kind and courteous manners of Mr. L——s. He reminded me more of that nearly extinct race—the gentleman of the old school—than any one I had seen since leaving England. His son, who is his assistant, seems equally amiable and popular. Seeing from my manner that I considered Muskoka, even at the present time, as the Ultima Thule of civilisation, he told us some amusing anecdotes of what it had actually been when his grandfather first became a settler in Canada. The towns and villages now called the “Front,” had then no existence; all was thick forest, no steamers on the lakes, no roads of any kind, and barely here and there a forest-track made by Indians or trappers. From where his grandfather settled down, it was sixty miles to the nearest place where anything could be got, and the first year he had to go all this distance on foot for a bushel of seed potatoes for planting, and to return with them in a sack which he carried on his back the whole way.
We left B——e to return home at one p.m., but it was nearly dark when we turned into the Bush, and quite so when we were put down at the point from which we had to walk home. Here we were luckily met by your brother C——s and C. W., with a lantern and a rope for our parcels, according to promise. C——s took charge of me, and led the way with the lantern. I tried to follow in his steps, but the track was so narrow, and the light so uncertain, that I found myself, every few moments, up to my knees in soft snow, if I diverged only a step from the track.
I became almost unable to go on, but after many expedients had been tried, one only was found to answer. C——s tied a rope round my waist, and then round his own, and in this safe, but highly ignominious manner, I was literally towed through the forest, and reached home thoroughly exhausted, but I am bound to say almost as much from laughter as from fatigue. I found all well, and the children were highly pleased with the little presents I had brought for them.
