Coming back to the horses, they found they had finished the oats Jabez had brought, and were nibbling at the leaves within reach. On regaining Yonge street, the horses were watered at a tavern, Jabez dropping five coppers on the counter, the price of two drinks. 'You are expected to drink when you stop to water a horse, but I want no whiskey, I prefer to pay for what the horse drinks.' Arrived in Toronto the master said he would go and see Mr Bambray after supper. Jabez asked him to remember that Quakers do not dicker, so if the price was too high for him to pay to come away at once.
The master found Mr Bambray reading a newspaper, told him he was satisfied with the land and would buy it were the price within his ability. The Quaker took from a desk a sheet of paper; pointing to the figures written on it he said, 'I do not deal in land, believing it not to be agreeable with the teaching of the Gospel to make merchandize of what God intended for all his children. I do not consider it right to buy land you are not able or do not mean to make use of, but secure with a view to sell at an advanced price to the man who will cultivate it. These 400 acres were transferred to me for a just debt which the man could not otherwise pay. On this line is the amount of that debt, here are the legal charges paid by me in the transaction, and here is interest. The whole totals $472, which is the price.' The master was surprised, for from what he had heard of the prices asked for land so close to Toronto at least double would have been sought. 'My friends and I are able to pay that sum to you and we take the land.' The Quaker moved not a muscle. Taking up a quill he wrote out a promise of sale, and was given a bank of Scotland note for ten pounds as surety. Inquiring what steps he would next take, the master was advised to secure the services of Jabez for a month at least. 'Thee are ignorant of bush-farming and need an instructor, otherwise loss will befall thee and much trouble.' Arranging for the final transfer of the land, the master sought out Jabez. He and two brothers carried on a cartage business. Jabez said there would not be more calls than his brothers could attend to until August, and he would go if he was willing to pay two dollars a day for himself and an ox-team. 'That is settled,' replied the master. 'Now what is to be done first?' 'To cut out a sledge-road across your lot, so that you may get your freight in.' To help he was to hire a man, and it was arranged to start at daylight.
Next morning Jabez appeared at the door of the tavern with an ox-team, and seated beside him in the wagon was a youth. 'This is Jim Sloot, who can handle an axe with any man. You have that to learn. It is the axe that has made Canada.' Arrived at the bridle-path that led to their lot, they had a day's work on it brushing and prying off fallen trees. On reaching the lot master had bought, trees had to be felled to continue the path. These Jabez and Jim assailed, while master trimmed their branches off with a hatchet. On the evening of the third day they were in sight of the pond, when the master left, for the Kingston boat might arrive next morning, and he must be on hand to meet his family. How he met us I have already told.
CHAPTER VI.
FIRST DAYS IN THE BACKWOODS
Our freight, as Jabez termed it, filled three wagons and started up Yonge-street. A fourth wagon came to the door of the tavern for the women and children, I being left to help them. We were told to stop at Mr Dunlop's store for supplies that had been bought. He came out to see us and in a minute was thick in talk with the women about Ayrshire. On the team starting he declared meeting them was like a visit to Scotland. The driver pointed out to us how straight Yonge-street was; runs forty miles to Lake Simcoe straight as the handle of my whip. It was a jolty, hot drive but we enjoyed it hugely; everything was new to us and we were all in high spirits at the prospect of our long journey being about to end and in coming into possession of our estates, about which there was no end of jokes. Mrs Auld was in doubts as to what name they would give their hundred acres, while Mrs Brodie settled on Bonnybraes for hers. 'But we have not seen a hill since we left Montreal,' remarked the mistress. 'I dinna care,' rejoined Mrs Brodie, Bonnybraes was the name of the farm we left and it will make the woods hamelike.' When we spied at a distance several men standing by the roadside we gave a shout of joy and were soon reunited. The laughing and talking might have been heard half a mile away. Jabez now took the lead. As the wagons arrived he had caused them to be unloaded under a clump of hemlocks, the chests and packages being arranged to make a three-sided enclosure. In front he had started a fire, over which, slung from a pole resting on crotched sticks, was a pot, and soon the mistress was preparing supper. It was dark before we had settled for the night, which was so warm that sleeping under the trees was no hardship. Jabez covered the dying fire with damp litter, the smoke of which kept off the mosquitos, which pestered us dreadfully.
In the morning Jabez was the first to be stirring. Giving me two pails he directed me to go to a house I would find a bit down Yonge-street to get water, and, if they had it, some milk. The house I found and also the well, but how to draw water out of it I knew not. There was nobody stirring until my awkward attempts to work the bucket brought a man out. I told him who I was. 'You are an emigrant and this is the first sweep-well you have tried to work. Well, now, you have got to learn,' and he showed me how simple it was. He was much interested when he heard of our party and of their camping out. 'Stay a minute till I tell mother.' Coming back to the door he cried to me to go on with the water and he would fetch milk after a while. The porridge was ready when he and his wife appeared with the milk. He called his wife mother, which we thought strange. She was a smart, tidy woman and was soon deep in advice to our housekeepers about bush ways of doing things and bush cookery. After they had gone their children, three in number, came shyly round and watched us with open-eyed curiosity.
Jabez was in haste to get us moved to our own location, and to do so had provided two oxsleds. Taking charge of one and Sloot of the other they dragged the first loads over the bush track, all the men, except the master, following. On returning for a second load, Jabez reported Brodie and Auld were pleased with the land and that Allan and the children were having a wash in the pond. How to get grannie through the woods concerned the master. Jabez solved the difficulty by making a comfortable couch on his sled, on which she rested, with the master on one side, Robbie running alongside of the ox, and myself following. So slowly and carefully did the ox step that grannie was little discomposed. On stepping from her rude conveyance, she gazed in wonder on the pond and the forest that encompassed it. 'This is our new farm,' shouted Allan in her ear, 'A' this ground and the lakie?' 'Yes,' answered Allan. 'An thae trees?' 'Yes,' replied her grandson, 'father is laird of it all.' She stood for a minute or two as if dazed; and then a light came to her face as if she had suddenly comprehended it all. She stepped to the master, and laying her hands on his shoulders said, 'You have been a good and true son and weel you deserve to be a laird.' Seeing a black squirrel jump from tree to tree Robbie darted off with a shout of glee.
Jabez cut a number of poles, and with them and blankets made two roomy tents, which were to give shelter until shanties were built. Before sites for them could be picked out it was necessary to divide the 400 acre lot. Brodie and Auld were to get each a hundred acres and they were agreed in choosing the portion of land that lay south of the road and included the pond. The master, as I found later, would have liked that part for himself, but willingly agreed to their choice. The next point was to divide the 200 acres between Auld and Brodie. Covered equally with heavy bush there was no apparent difference, yet a division had to be made. Jabez, seeing that one waited on the other to decide, cut two twigs and held them out between his fingers. 'The man who draws the long one, gets the east half, and the short one the west.' Brodie drew the long bit of stick and Auld the short. It was agreed to raise Brodie's shanty first, as he had young children, and the Aulds could stay with them until their own shanty was ready. Brodie selected the spot for his home, and we began at once to cut the trees that stood upon it. Saturday evening Jabez and Jim returned to Toronto to stay over Sunday. The weather had been warm with two showers and camping was no discomfort beyond the inconvenience to the women. There was no complaining, for we were all in good spirits, buoyed up with the prospect of future prosperity, and determined, if hard work would ensure it, we would not spare ourselves. Our tasks for the week were ended and we gathered on the site of Brodie's house, sitting on the felled trees. It was a calm night with soft air, the moonbeams making a pathway of light across the pond. None seemed inclined to speak, just wanting to rest and enjoy the peaceful hour. It was Alice who broke the silence by starting to sing, and song followed song, all joining when there was a chorus. It was a strange thought that came into my mind, that for all the ages these woods and lakelet had existed this was the first time they had echoed back our Scottish melodies. When Alice started Ye banks and braes o' bonny Doon, we helped in the first verse, but as the scenes we had left rose before our minds voices quavered, until all became silent, tears flowed, and Mrs Auld was sobbing. 'This wont do,' cried the master, 'we have come here as to a land of promise and there must be no looking backward. We go forward. Alice, start the second paraphrase and then to bed.'