Here is a small tug whose engine capacity is out of all proportion to its size. It is towing a huge raft of timber, and, notwithstanding the heavy pull, is making good progress upstream and against the current. Now, the deep and wide Oromocto River is reached, and a busy scene is enacted at the wharf as all hands on the steamer are pressed into the work of loading produce of every kind on board.
We go only a short distance across stream before reaching another landing, where squash, cucumbers and other vegetables by the barrel, and in immense quantities, are loaded on the lower decks.
Now a wharf is neared where, it so happens, there are no passengers awaiting the steamer, and none to get off. A man puts off in a small boat and makes fast to our boat, well out in the river, transfers some crates of tomatoes—the vessel still in motion and pushes back to the shore.
Nearing a spot where meadow and rolling upland mark a particularly rich agricultural district, a great flat barge or hay-boat is almost ahead, and the steamer slows up to give the boat an opportunity for coming alongside. She is loaded with fine-looking pressed hay, fresh from the fields and done up in the usual bales which are piled on the low boat to such a height as almost to be level with the decks of the large river steamer. No sooner is the barge made fast than men pour out on to the hay, and, while we are still proceeding on our downward course the product of the meadow is quickly stowed away below. It seems only a minute or two before the empty float rises high out of the water, and saluting the two men with a wave of the hand as they cast off, we go ahead under full steam.
A garden country now comes into view, where fair plots of all kinds of vegetable growth greet the eye in great profusion as we pull inshore. The wharf is stacked with hundreds of barrels of fresh corn and other produce destined for St. John as a consuming and distributing point. There is barely room to move about, but the united forces of steamer crew and wharf gang make short work of the huge stack, and in a few minutes all is nicely stowed away on the lower decks. Ingenious packers they must be down there to stow away such immense quantities so quickly.
Here a delightful little point is passed, dotted with bungalows and having trim yachts and smart launches moored offshore in a snug little cove. A very pretty picture of comfort, cool breezes and aquatic pleasures it makes, and we are just turning out into midstream when a mellow-toned salute from an upstream passenger boat greets the ear. Passing to the offshore side of our boat a fine full view is had of a St. John River steamboat churning a way to Fredericton at full speed, freighted with a goodly company of happy people all engaged with the superb views of the noble river.
And now a trading sloop passes by so close that we can call to and converse with her crew; and here, as elsewhere, evidence is found of the general courtesy and happy disposition of Maritime Province people, for the men of the small craft crowd to her side and wave their hands in pleasant greeting—as much as to say, “You are on the famous St. John; enjoy it as we do that have been on it all our lives, and love it dearly.”
