THE VALLEY OF THE DON.

I.—From the Bridge on the Kingston Road to Tyler's.

etracing our steps; placing ourselves again on the bridge, and, turning northwards, we see on the right, near by, a field or rough space, which has undergone excavation, looking as though the brick-maker or potter had been at work on it: and we may observe that large quantity of the displaced material has been spread out over a portion of the marshy tract enclosed here by a bend of the river westward. What we see is a relic of an effort made long ago, by Mr. Washburn, a barrister of York, to whom reference has been made before, to bring this piece of land into cultivation. In its natural state the property was all but useless, from the steepness of the hill-side on the one hand, and from the ever wet condition of the central portion of the flat below on the other. By grading down the hill and filling in the marsh, and establishing a gentle slope from the margin of the stream to the level of the top of the bank on the right, it was easy to see that a large piece of solid land in an eligible position might be secured. The undertaking, however, was abandoned before the work was finished, the expense probably being found heavy, and the prospect of a return for the outlay remote.

At a later period Mr. O'Neill, with greater success and completeness, cut down the steep ridges of the bank at Don Mount, a short distance up, and filled in the marsh below. These experiments show how the valley of the Don, along the eastern outskirts of the town, will ultimately be turned to account, when the necessities of the population demand the outlay. At present such improvements are discouraged by the length of time required to cover large surfaces of new clay with vegetable mould. But in future years it will be for mills and factories, and not for suburban and villa purposes, that the parts referred to will be held valuable.

These marshes along the sides of the Don, from the point where its current ceases to be perceptible, appear to be remains of the river as it was at an epoch long ago. The rim or levee that now, on the right and left, confines and defines the meanderings of the stream in the midst of the marshes, has been formed by the alluvial matter deposited in the annual overflowings. The bed of the stream has probably in the same manner been by degrees slightly raised. The solid tow-path, as it were, thus created on each side of the river-channel, affords at present a great convenience to the angler and fowler. It forms, moreover, as shown by the experiments above alluded to, a capital breastwork, towards which the engineer may advance, when cutting down the adjoining hills, and disposing of their material on the drowned land below.

Once more imagining ourselves on the bridge, and looking obliquely to the north-west, we may still discern close by some remains of the short, shallow, winding ravine, by which in winter the sleighs used to ascend from the level of the river, and regain, through a grove of pines and hemlocks, the high road into the town. As soon as the steady cold set in, every year, the long reaches and grand sweeps of the river Don became peculiarly interesting. Firmly frozen over everywhere, and coated with a good depth of snow, bordered on each side by a high shrubbery of wild willow, alder, wych-hazel, dog-wood, tree-cranberry and other specimens of the lesser brushwood of the forest, plentifully overspread and interwoven in numerous places with the vine of wild grape, the whole had the appearance of a fine, clear, level English coach-road or highway, bounded throughout its winding course by a luxuriant hedge, seen as such English roads and their surroundings were wont to be, all snow-clad, at Christmas-tide, from the top of the fast mail to Exeter, for example, in the old coaching days.

Down the river, thus conveniently paved over, every day came a cavalcade of strong sleighs, heavily laden, some with cordwood, some with sawn lumber, some with hay, a whole stack of which at once, sometimes, would seem to be on the move.

After a light fall of snow in the night, the surface of the frozen stream would be marked all over with foot-prints innumerable of animals, small and great, that had been early out a-foraging: tracks of field-mice, minks and martens, of land-rats, water-rats and muskrats; of the wild-cat sometimes, and of the fox; and sometimes of the wolf. Up this valley we have heard at night the howling of the wolf; and in the snow of the meadows that skirt the stream, we have seen the blood-stained spots where sheep had been worried and killed by that ravenous animal.

In one or two places where the bends of the river touched the inner high bank, and where diggings had abortively been made with a view to the erection of a factory of some kind, beautiful frozen gushes of water from springs in the hill-side were every winter to be seen, looking, at a distance, like small motionless Niagaras. At one sheltered spot, we remember, where a tannery was begun but never finished, solid ice was sometimes to be found far on in the summer.