CHAPTER XIX.
A Trip to the Uttawa.
Having spent a fortnight in the enjoyment of lovely scenery and warm hospitality, and taken a last and lingering gaze at the glorious panoramic view from the citadel, I embarked once more on the St. Lawrence. It was evening; and, as the moon rose bright and clear, the wooded banks and silvered stream formed as charming a picture as the eye of man could wish to rest upon. Morning found us at Montreal. Among my fellow-passengers were two members of the Cabinet, or Executive Council, Mr. Hincks and Mr. Drummond, both on their way to the Ottawa, the commercial importance of that river to the prosperity of the colony having induced them to take the trip with a view of ascertaining, by actual observation and examination, what steps were most advisable to improve its navigation.
My intention was to start at once for Kingston; but when they kindly asked me to accompany them, I joyfully accepted, and an hour after I landed at Montreal I was on the rail with my friends, hissing away to Lachine, where the chief office of the Hudson's Bay Company is fixed. There we embarked in a steamer on Lake St. Louis, which is a struggling compound of the dark brown Ottawa and the light blue St. Lawrence. The lake was studded with islands, and the scenery rendered peculiarly lovely by the ever-changing lights and shades from the rising sun. We soon left the St. Lawrence compound and reached that part of the Ottawa[[AQ]] which the poet has immortalized by his beautiful "Canadian Boat Song."
St. Anne's is a small village, and the rapids being impassable in low water they have built a lock to enable steamers to ascend; but fortunately, when we passed, there was sufficient water, and we steamed up the song-famed rapids, above which the river spreads out into the Lake of the Two Mountains. It is proposed to build a railway bridge for the main trunk line, just above the rapids. How utterly the whizzing, whistling kettle spoils the poetry of scenery, undeniable though its utility be! There is no doubt that the Lake of the Two Mountains has many great beauties; but, whatever they may be, a merciless storm of rain effectually curtained them from us, and we traversed the whole lake to Point Fortune in a mist worthy of the Western Highlands. There we took coach, as the locks at Carillon are not yet large enough for full-sized steamers to pass. The road was alike good and uninteresting, running by the side of the canal, whose banks were here and there enlivened by groups of wild flowers.
A stage of twelve miles brought us to Grenville, where we again took steamer on the Ottawa, and, the weather being finer, we had an opportunity of enjoying the scenery, which is very peculiar. It has none of the wild features of grandeur which one associates with comparatively unknown streams, in a country where all is gigantesque. There is nothing mountainous or craggy, but the banks and hills at the back being luxuriously wooded, and conveying the idea of being well tenanted, the absence of human habitations seems unnatural, and gives the solitude an air of mystery, only broken at long intervals by a bowered cottage or a wreath of smoke. The most remarkable building is the French château of M. Papineau, very prettily situated on the northern bank, commanding an extensive view of the river, and looking in its isolation as though its occupant was a second Robinson Crusoe, and monarch of all he surveyed. Night soon buried all scenery in its sable mantle, and, after sixty miles steaming, we reached Bytown, where we found friends and conveyances ready to take us over to Aylmer, there to sleep preparatory to a further excursion up the river early in the morning. As the distance was only eight miles, we were soon at Mr. Egan's hospitable board, from which we speedily retired to rest, so as to be ready for the morrow's trip.
Early dawn found us on hoard and steaming merrily up the glorious stream, which, spreading out very widely, has been lakefied, and is called Lake Chaudière and Du Chêne, thus named, I suppose, because the water is cold and there are few oaks to be seen. Be that as it may, the scenery, though possessing neither striking features nor variety, is very pretty and cheerful. A quantity of lovely little villas stud the banks, some ensconced snugly in cosy nooks, others standing out boldly upon the rich greensward; and, for a background, you have full-bosomed hills, rich in forest monarchs, clad in their dense and dark mantles. Suddenly the scene changes, the Chats Falls burst upon the sight; and well does the magnificent view repay the traveller for any difficulty he may have had in his endeavours to reach this spot. About three miles above the rocky and well-wooded island that creates the falls, the river contracts very considerably, and in its rushing impetuosity seems as though it were determined to sweep the whole island into the lake below; then there appears to have been a compromise between the indignant stream and the obstinate island, and the latter seems to have offered up a great portion of its timber at the shrine of Peace, and to have further granted various rights of way to its excited neighbour. The river seems to have taken advantage of both these concessions very largely, but it appears that in nature, as it often occurs in politics, concessions only breed increased demands, and the ungrateful Ottawa, while sweeping away forest timber and baring the granite rock in a dozen different channels, thunders its foaming waters along with an angry voice, ever crying "More, more."
I never saw anything more beautiful than these falls. They are generally from twenty to forty feet broad, and about the same in height; but from the shape of the island you cannot see them all at once; and as you steam along there is a continual succession of them, each revealing some new beauty. It was at this place that I, for the first time, saw a slide for the descent of lumber, to which I shall have to refer hereafter. For many years the porterage of goods across this island to the Ottawa above—which is called Lake Chats—was a work of much difficulty and expense. Mr. E., with that enterprise and energy which mark his character, got two friends of kindred spirit to join him, and made a railway across, about three miles and a half long. It is a single line, constructed upon piles, and the car is rattled over at a jolly pace by two spicy ponies. As the piles are in some places from twenty to thirty feet in the air, it looks nervous work; and if one of the ponies bolted, it might produce a serious accident; but they seem aware of the danger, and trot away as steadily as an engine, if not quite so rapidly.
On reaching the north-western end of the island, another steamer was waiting for us, and we again breasted the stream of the Ottawa. After passing the first three miles, which, as before mentioned, are very narrow, and thus produce that additional impetus which ends in the lovely Chats Falls, the river opens out into the Lake. The shores are low and with a gentle rise, and there is comparatively little appearance of agricultural activity, the settler having found the ground at the back of the rise better suited for farming purposes.
Some distance up the lake, and close to its margin, is the farm of Mr. McDonnell, thus forming an exception to the general rule. His residence is an excessively pretty cottage, commanding a grand panoramic view. Here we stopped to pay a visit to the energetic old Highlander and his family, and to enjoy his hospitalities. If he is to be taken as a specimen of the salubrity of the climate, I never saw so healthy a place. He came here as a lad to push his fortunes, with nothing but a good axe and a stout heart. He has left fifty summers far behind him; he looks the embodiment of health, and he carries his six feet two inches in a way that might well excite the envy of a model drill-sergeant; and when he took my hand to welcome me, I felt all my little bones scrunching under his iron grasp, as if they were so many bits of pith.