CHAPTER XXII.
Through interminable forest of spruce, pine and hemlock; through scraggy underwood, through clumps of tamarack poles, through dense cedar hedges; in and out among boulders of rock hard as adamant, jutting crags and angry precipices, over mounds of granite and shelving plates of limestone; over hill and down dale, the men of the 100th slowly made their way. Cutting down brushwood among rocky masses, made a narrow lane through which soldiers, two abreast, could force a tortuous march; but to make sleigh roads for teams to transport goods for settlement and garrison was a more difficult matter. The way through the frozen wilderness was unbroken, and Indian guides, as well as their own scouts, were sent on ahead to locate the road they must cut. Even a deadlock was possible, and to save interminable journeys around impassable ravines, teams would be unhitched and horses saddle-bagged and led singly, while men carried goods in their arms or on their shoulders to the smoother way beyond.
Many more days passed away as slowly but surely they forged ahead in a south-west direction. Monotony of labor, monotony of snow, monotony of cold, but variety of wilderness. Sometimes troops of squirrels chattered and scampered around them. Bold, black fellows would run down tall pines and angrily interrogate the drivers and, having delivered their message, dart back from tree to tree and disappear in the distance. Mink would run in and out among the boulders, sometimes brought down by a soldier's gun, but more frequently lost in a hole in the ice, to reappear next minute when distance lent safety to the view. Now and then a wild cat was seen as well as heard, and in the early dawn the tail of the red fox, as he darted across the smooth surface of a frozen lake and startled the deer as they lay in sheltered nook or browsed among the bushes. But of wolves they saw no more, though night was often made hideous with their unearthly yells, always reminiscent of that one occasion, so long to be remembered.
At last, on a bright March morning, they drove out upon a broad, level plain. Octopus feelers stretched out in every direction. They were on the Lake of Bays. Next, with all the speed they could muster, they struck southward along Muskoka River. Then over hill and dale, across ponds and beyond Muskoka Lake. South and west was still the watchword till Waubashene was left behind, and finally one day, with the bright sun shining above them, the terminus was reached.
"All things come to him who waits and prays the Lord to guide him!" piously exclaimed the Chaplain.
"God be praised, we're here at last, thanks to our perseverance," echoed Sir George. "But waiting would never bring a man to his destined haven. Egad! this is a fine spot! Looks well in winter, what must it be in summer?"
"Mon Dieu!" exclaimed the Doctor, whose expletives were always in French, "if yonder is not a schooner frozen fast in the ice."
"Yes, and by my father's ghost, there's a man on her deck taking stock of us," cried Cummings.
At this moment the men gave a loud cheer, which was answered by a whoop from the owner of the boat.
"The unexpected always happens," said Sir George; "who could imagine that we should find a brig here? Captain, send down Bond and Hardman to tell the man I would like to converse with him."