Letters from Muskoka

by Mrs. Charles Gerrard King

Of course we travelled in Indian file, one after the other.

When we finally departed, your brother-in-law and Sister P——e preceded me, laden with all manner of small articles, and every few yards down they came. I followed with a stout stick which helped me along considerably, and as I was not allowed to carry anything, and picked my way very carefully, I managed to escape with comparatively few falls, and only two of any consequence, one when I pitched forward with my face down flat on the ground, and another when my feet suddenly slipped from under me and sent me backwards, rolling over and over in the snow before, even with help, I could get up. The effects of this fall I felt for a long time.

At length we arrived at our new home, but in spite of the magic of that word, I felt dreadfully depressed, and as we were all thoroughly wet and weary, and on looking out of the windows in front saw nothing but a wall of snow six feet deep, which encircled the house and quite hid the clearing from our eyes, I need not say that we were anything but a gay party. Your kind brother-in-law, to console me a little, went home and brought back in his arms, as a present for me, the little cat of which I had been so fond at his house. I cheered up immediately, and had so much trouble to prevent little Tibbs from running away and being lost in the snow, that it was quite an occupation for me. One member of our party made himself at home at once, and from the moment of our entrance took possession of the warmest place before the stove. This was dear old Nero, who, as a “French seigneur,” had great privileges, was much admired in the settlement, and was always called the “Frenchman!” His chief delight seemed to be incessantly barking at the squirrels.

The thaw continuing, we were quite prisoners for some weeks, and as to our property left at your sister’s, it was nearly three months before we could get it, as your brother-in-law with your brothers had to cut a path for the oxen between our clearings, and to make a rough bridge over his creek, which, though not so deep as the one on my land, was equally impassable for a wagon and team.

Happy would it have been for us, and for all the new settlers, if, when the snow was quite melted, which was not till the second week in May, fine dry weather had ensued. This would have enabled us to log and burn the trees felled during the winter, and to clear up the ground ready for cropping. Instead of this, drenching rain set in, varied by occasional thunder-storms, so that even after the logging was done it was June before we could venture to fire the heaps, the ground being still quite wet, and even then the clearing was such a partial one that by the 15th of June we had only three-fourths of an acre thoroughly ready, and on this your brother planted eight bushels of potatoes, happily for us regardless of the prognostics of our neighbours, who all assured him that he was much too late to have any chance of a return. He had, however, an excellent yield of eighty bushels, which fully repaid him for his perseverance and steady refusal to be wet-blanketed. He also, however late, sowed peas, French beans, vegetable-marrows, and put in cabbages, from all of which we had a good average crop.

We had, of course, to hire men for our logging, with their oxen, and to find their meals. I could not but observe how well they all behaved, washing their faces and hands before sitting down to table, and also scrupulously refraining from swearing, smoking, or spitting, while in the house. A man who hires himself and his oxen out for the day, has two dollars and food for himself and his beasts; and should he bring any assistants, they each have seventy-five cents and their food. You should have seen the gentlemen of our party after a day’s logging! They were black from head to foot, and more resembled master chimney-sweeps than anything else. Most of the settlers have a regular logging-suit made of coarse coloured stuff; anything better is sure to be spoiled during such work.

Our fire, though a bad one, was very picturesque. It did not burn fiercely enough to clear off the log-heaps still wet from the late rains, but it ran far back into the forest, and many of the tall trees, particularly the decaying ones, were burning from bottom to top, and continued in flames for some days and nights. During the logging I sincerely pitied the poor oxen, who are yoked together and attached by a heavy chain to one immense log after another, till they are all brought into position, and the log-heaps are arranged for burning. It is most distressing to see these patient animals panting after their exertions, and too often, I regret to say, beaten and sworn at in a most outrageous manner.

Great care is required to prevent accidents during logging, and fatal ones sometimes occur. I was in conversation with the reeve of an adjoining township this summer, and he told me that two years ago he lost his eldest son, a young man of great promise, in this melancholy way. The poor fellow made a false step while driving his team, and fell right before the oxen who were coming on with a heavy log, quite a tree, attached to them. Before it was possible to stop them, they had drawn the tree over him and he was literally crushed to death.

Not having been able to get the land ready for corn of any kind, and our only crops being the potatoes I have mentioned, and a few garden vegetables, your brother thought it best to give his whole attention to fencing our clearing all round, and putting gates at the three different points of egress. This was the more necessary as your brother Charles had a cow and heifer with a large circle of acquaintances among our neighbour’s cattle, who came regularly every morning to fetch them away into the Bush, where they all fed till night. Your brother made three gates on the model of French ones, which are both solid and simple in their construction, easy to open and easy to shut.