June 13.
In these latter days I have lived in friendly communion with so many
excellent people, that my departure from Toronto was not what I
anticipated--an escape on one side, or a riddance on the other. My
projected tour to the west has excited not only some interest, but much
kind solicitude; and aid and counsel have been tendered with a feeling
which touched me deeply.
The first bell of the steam-boat had not yet rung, when one of my
friends came running up to tell me that the missionary from the
Sault-Saint-Marie, and his Indian wife, had arrived at Toronto, and were
then at the inn, and that there was just time to introduce me to them.
No sooner thought than done: in another moment we were in the hotel, and
I was introduced to Mrs. MacMurray, otherwise O-ge-ne-bu-go-quay, (i. e.
_the wild rose_).
I must confess that the specimens of Indian squaws and half-caste women
I had met with, had in no wise prepared me for what I found in Mrs.
MacMurray. The first glance, the first sound of her voice, struck me
with a pleased surprise. Her figure is tall--at least it is rather above
than below the middle size, with that indescribable grace and undulation
of movement which speaks the perfection of form. Her features are
distinctly Indian, but softened and refined, and their expression at
once bright and kindly. Her dark eyes have a sort of fawn-like shyness
in their glance, but her manner, though timid, was quite free from
embarrassment or restraint. She speaks English well, with a slightly
foreign intonation, not the less pleasing to my ear that it reminded me
of the voice and accent of some of my German friends. In two minutes I
was seated by her--my hand kindly folded in hers--and we were talking
over the possibility of my plans. It seems that there is some chance of
my reaching the Island of Michilimackinac, but of the Sault-Saint-Marie
I dare hardly think as yet--it looms in my imagination dimly described
in far space, a kind of Ultima Thule; yet the sight of Mrs. MacMurray
seemed to give something definite to the vague hope which had been
floating in my mind. Her sister, she said, was married to the American
Indian agent at Michilimackinac, and from both she promised me a
welcome, should I reach their island. To her own far off home at the
Sault-Saint-Marie, between Lake Huron and Lake Superior, she warmly
invited me--without, however, being able to point out any conveyance or
mode of travelling thither that could be depended on--only a possible
chance of such. Meantime there was _some_ hope of our meeting
_some_where on the road, but it was of the faintest. She thanked me
feelingly for the interest I took in her own fated race, and gave me
excellent hints as to my manner of proceeding. We were in the full tide
of conversation when the bell of the steam-boat rang for the last time,
and I was hurried off. On the deck of the vessel I found her husband,
Mr. MacMurray, who had only time to say, in fewest words, all that was
proper, polite, and hospitable. This rencontre, which some would call
accidental, and some providential, pleased and encouraged me. Then came
blessings, good wishes, kind pressures of the hand, and last adieus, and
waving of handkerchiefs from the shore, as the paddles were set in
motion, and we glided swiftly over the mirror-like bay.
The day was sultry, the air heavy and still, and a strange fog, or
rather a series of dark clouds, hung resting on the bosom of the lake,
which in some places was smooth and transparent as glass--in others,
little eddies of wind had ruffled it into tiny waves, or welts
rather--so that it presented the appearance of patchwork. The boatmen
looked up, and foretold a storm; but when we came within three or four
miles from the mouth of the river Niagara, the fog drew off like a
curtain, and the interminable line of the dark forest came into view,
stretching right and left along the whole horizon; then the white
buildings of the American fort, and the spires of the town of Niagara,
became visible against the rich purple-green back-ground, and we landed
after a four hours' voyage. The threatened storm came on that night. The
summer storms of Canada are like those of the tropics: not in Italy, not
among the Apennines, where I have in my time heard the "live thunder
leaping from crag to crag," did I ever hear such terrific explosions of
sound as burst over our heads this night. The silence and the darkness
lent an added horror to the elemental tumult--and for the first time in
my life I felt sickened and unpleasantly affected in the intervals
between the thunder-claps, though I cannot say I felt fear. Meantime the
rain fell as in a deluge, threatening to wash us into the lake, which
reared itself up, and roared--like a monster for its prey.
Yet, the next morning, when I went down upon the shore, how beautiful
it looked--the hypocrite!--there it lay rocking and sleeping in the
sunshine, quiet as a cradled infant. Niagara, in its girdle of verdure
and foliage, glowing with fresh life, and breathing perfume, appeared to
me a far different place from what I had seen in winter. As I stood on
the shore, quietly thinking, I was startled by the sound of the
death-bell, pealing along the sunny blue waters. They said it was tolled
for a young man of respectable family, who, at the age of three or four
and twenty, had died from habitual drinking; his elder brother having a
year or two before fallen from his horse in a state of intoxication, and
perished in consequence. Yes, everything I see and hear on this subject
convinces me that it should be one of the first objects of the
government to put down, by all and every means, a vice which is rotting
at the core of this colony--poisoning the very sources of existence; but
all their taxes, and prohibitions, and excise laws, will do little good,
unless they facilitate the means of education. In society, the same
evening, the appearance of a very young, very pretty, sad-looking
creature, with her first baby at her bosom, whose husband was staggering
and talking drunken gibberish at her side, completed the impression of
disgust and affright with which the continual spectacle of this vile
habit strikes me since I have been in this country.
Before quitting the subject of Niagara, I may as well mention an
incident which occurred shortly afterwards, on my last visit to the
town, which interested me much at the time, and threw the whole of this
little community into a wonderful ferment.