of Montreal to the townships was toilsome in the extreme; and the same
journey, which is now accomplished in a few hours by railway, was then
the work of several days; and the only mode of conveyance for themselves
and their luggage, were the horse-carts hired for the occasion. But
their fatiguing journey was at length terminated; and they arrived
safely at the bush settlement in R., where the friends of Mrs. Ainslie
resided. That now thriving and prosperous settlement was then in its
infancy, and possessed but few external attractions to the newcomer; for
at the period when Mrs. Ainslie's parents settled there it was an
unbroken wilderness. It is needless for me to add that the wayworn
travellers met with a joyous welcome from the friends who had been long
anxiously looking for their arrival. Mr. and Mrs. Miller were overjoyed
to meet again their daughter, from whom they had been so long separated
by the deep roll of the ocean; and almost their first enquiry was for
the "wee lassie," who when they left Scotland was less than a twelve
month old. Mr. Ainslie was unable to reply, and looked toward his wife
as if beseeching her to answer to their enquiry. She understood the mute
appeal, and composing herself by a strong effort said: "My dear father
an' mither, a great grief has o'erta'en us sin' we left hame', an' our
hearts are wellnigh broken; we buried wee Susie in the caul waters o'
the ocean." She endeavoured to relate to them the particulars of the
child's death; but her feelings overcame her, and for some moments they
could only weep together. When Mr. Miller was able to command his voice
he said, "God is good, my children, an' overrules a' things for our
good, let us bow before him in prayer;" and when they rose from their
knees, they felt calmed and comforted, by the soothing influence of
prayer. With the two boys, Geordie and Willie, fatigue soon got the
better of their joy at meeting with their friends, and they were soon
enjoying the sound sleep of healthful childhood; but with the elder
members of the family, so much was there to hear and to tell that the
hour was very late when they separated to seek repose. Mr. Ainslie
decided upon purchasing a lot of land, lying some two miles north of the
farm occupied by Mr. Miller. Although it was covered with a dense
forest, its location pleased him, and the soil was excellent, and he
looked forward to the time when he might there provide a pleasant home.
They arrived at R. on the first of July. There were beside Mr. Miller
but three other families in the settlement; but they were all very kind
to the newly arrived strangers, and they assisted Mr. Ainslie in various
ways while he effected a small clearing upon his newly purchased farm.
They also lent him a willing hand in the erection of a small log house,
to which he removed his family in the fall; Mrs. Ainslie and the
children having remained with her parents during the summer; and kind as
their friends had been, they were truly glad when they found themselves
again settled in a home of their own, however humble. They were people
of devoted piety, and they did not neglect to erect the family altar the
first night they rested beneath the lowly roof of their forest home. I
could not, were I desirous of so doing, give a detailed account of the
trials and hardships they endured during the first few years of their
residence in the bush; but they doubtless experienced their share of the
privations and discouragements which fall to the lot of the first
settlers of a new section of country. The first winter they passed in
their new home was one of unusual severity for even the rigorous climate
of Eastern Canada, and poor Mrs. Ainslie often during that winter
regretted the willingness with which she bade adieu to her early home,
to take up her abode in the dreary wilderness. They found the winter
season very trying indeed, living as they did two miles from any
neighbour; and the only road to the dwelling of a neighbour was a
foot-track through the blazed trees, and the road such as it was, was
too seldom trodden during the deep snows of winter, to render the
footmarks discernible for any length of time. Their stores had all to be
purchased at the nearest village, which was distant some seven miles,
and Mr. Ainslie often found it very difficult to make his way through
the deep snows which blocked up the roads, and to endure the biting
frost and piercing winds on his journeys to and from the village. In
after years when they had learned to feel a deep interest in the growth
of the settlement, they often looked back with a smile to the
"homesickness" which oppressed their hearts, while struggling with the
first hardships of life in the bush. Mr. Ainslie and his family,
notwithstanding their many privations, enjoyed uninterrupted health
through the winter, and before the arrival of spring they already felt a
growing interest in their new home. Mrs. Ainslie regarded the labours of
the workmen with much attention during the winter, while they felled the
trees which had covered nearly ten acres of their farm. As each tree
fell to the ground it opened a wider space in the forest and afforded a
broader view of the blue sky. A stream of water, which in many places
would have been termed a river, but which there only bore the name of
Hazel-Brook, flowed near their dwelling, and as the spring advanced, the
belt of forest which concealed it from view having been felled, she
gained a view of its sparkling waters when the warm showers and genial
rays of the sun loosened them from their icy fetters; and she often
afterward remarked that the view of those clear waters was the first
thing which tended to reconcile her to a home in the forest. With the
coming of spring their "life in the woods," began in earnest. When the
earth was relieved of its snowy mantle, the fallen trunks of the trees,
with piles of brush-wood were scattered in every direction about their
dwelling. But the fallow was burned as soon as it was considered
sufficiently dry, the blackened logs were piled in heaps, and the ground
was prepared for its first crop of grain. The green blades soon sprang
up and covered the ground, where a short time before was only to be seen
the unsightly fallow or the remains of the partially consumed logs.
It was a long time before Mr. and Mrs. Ainslie became reconciled to the
change in their circumstances, when they exchanged the comforts and
conveniences of their home beyond the sea, for the log cabin in the
wilderness. Cut off as they were from the privileges of society to which
they had been accustomed from childhood, they felt keenly the want of a
place of worship, with each returning Sabbath; and next to this, the
want of a school for their two boys; for taken as a people the Scotch
are intelligent; and we rarely meet with a Scotchman, even among the
poorer classes, who has not obtained a tolerable education. And the
careful parents felt much anxiety when they beheld their children
debarred from the advantages of education; but to remedy the want as
much as lay in their power, they devoted the greater part of what little
leisure time they could command to the instruction of their boys. They
had been regular attendants at their own parish church in the old
country; and very sensibly they felt the want, as Sabbath after Sabbath,
passed away, with no service to mark it from other days. "It just
seems," said Mr. Ainslie, "that sin' we cam' to America we ha'e nae
Sabbath ava." In order to meet the want in some measure, he proposed to
the few neighbours which there formed the settlement, that they should
assemble at one house, on each Sabbath afternoon, and listen to the
reading of a sermon by some one present. "I think it our duty," said he,
"to show our respect to the Sabbath-day by assembling ourselves
together, and uniting in worship to the best, o' our ability. I ha'e
among my books a collection o' sermons by different divines, an' I am
verra willin' to tak' my turn in the readin' o' ane, an' I'm sure you
should a' be agreeable to do the same." His proposal met with the hearty
approval of all his neighbours, and for some years each Sabbath
afternoon saw most of the neighbours collected together for the best
mode of worship within their reach. The bush settlements at this period
were much infected by bears, and they often proved very destructive to
the crop of the early settler, and also a cause of no little fear. I
believe the instances have been rare when a bear has been known to
attack a person, although it has happened in some cases; but the
immigrant has so often listened to exaggerated accounts regarding the
wild animals of America, that those who settle in a new section of
country find it difficult to get rid of their fears. On one occasion
when the Sabbath meeting met at Mr. Ainslie's house, Mrs. Ainslie urged
her mother to remain and partake of some refreshment before setting out
on her walk homeward. "Na, na'" replied the old lady, "I maun e'en gang
while I ha'e company, I dinna expec' to leeve muckle longer at ony rate,
but wouldna' like to be eaten by the bears;" and for several years the
one who ventured alone to the house of a neighbour after dark was looked
upon as possessing more courage than prudence. But although the settlers
often came across these animals, on the bush-road, I never heard of one
being attacked by them. An old man upon one occasion returning in the
evening from the house of a friends, and carrying in his hand a
torchlight composed of bark from the cedar tree, suddenly met a large
bear in the thick woods. Being asked if he was not frightened, he
replied, "Deed I think the bear was 'maist frightened o' the twa', for
he just stood up on his twa hind legs, and glowered at me for a wee
while till I waved the torch light toward him, when he gi' an awfu'
snort, and ran into the woods as fast's ever he was able, an' I cam awa'
hame no a bit the war, an' I think I'll never be sae' muckle feared
about bears again." But these early settlers certainly found these
animals very troublesome from their frequent depredations upon their
fields of grain, and they often spent a large portion of the night
watching for them, prepared to give them battle, but it was not often
they saw one on these occasions, for these animals are very cunning, and
seem at once to know when they are watched. It sometimes also happened
that during the early period of this settlement people lost their way in
the bush while going from one house to another. A woman once set out to
go to the house of a neighbour who lived about a mile distant. Supposing
herself on the right path she walked onward, till thinking the way
rather long she stopped and gazed earnestly around her, and became
terrified as she noticed that the trees and rocks, and every other
surrounding object had a strange unfamiliar look; and she knew at once
that she had taken a wrong path.
Becoming much alarmed she endeavoured to retrace her steps, but after
walking a long time would often return to the spot from which she set
out. She left home about ten o'clock in the forenoon, and her friends,
alarmed at her long stay, called together some of their neighbours and
set out to look for her, knowing that she must have lost her way in the
forest. They continued their search through the afternoon, sounding
horns, hallooing, and calling her name, as they hurried through the
tangled underbrush, and other obstructions, and at sunset they returned
to procure torches with which to continue their search through the
night; her friends were almost beside themselves with terror, and all
the stories they had heard or read of people being devoured by wild
animals rushed across their minds. But just when they had collected
nearly every settler in the vicinity, and were preparing their torches
to continue the search, the woman arrived safely at home, with no
further injury than being thoroughly frightened, and very much fatigued.
She stated that she had walked constantly, from the time when she became
aware she was lost, and that she was so much bewildered that she at the
first did not know their own clearing, till some familiar object
attracted her attention. As the neighbours were going to their homes,
after the woman's return, they were, naturally enough, talking of the
matter, regarding it as a cause of deep thankfulness that no harm had
befallen her. Mr. G., one of the number, although a very kind hearted
man, had an odd dry manner of speaking which often provoked a laugh. It
so happened that the woman who was lost was very small, her stature
being much below the medium height. Laughter was far enough from the
mind of any one, till old Mr. G., who had not before made a remark,
suddenly said, "sic a wee body as you should never attemp' to gang awa'
her lane through the bush without a bell hanged aboot her neck to let
people ken where to find her in case she should gang off the richt
road." This was too much for the gravity of any one; and the stillness
of the summer night was broken by a burst of hearty laughter from the
whole company; and the old man made the matter little better, when the
laugh had subsided, by saying in a very grave manner, "well, after a' I
think it would be a verra wise-like precaution wi' sic a wee bit body as
her." Time passed on; other settlers located themselves in the vicinity,
and the settlement soon began to wear a prosperous appearance. As soon
as circumstances allowed, a school-house was erected, which, if rude to
structure, answered the purpose very well. For some time the school was
only kept open during the summer and autumn, as the long distance and
deep snows forbade the attendance of young children during the winter
season. They had as yet no public worship, except the Sabbath meetings
before mentioned, which were now held in the schoolhouse for the
greater convenience of the settlers. Mr. Ainslie was a man of much
industry; and although his home was for some years two miles from any
neighbour, it soon wore a pleasing appearance. The most pleasing feature
in the scene was the beautiful stream of water which ran near his
dwelling, and after which he named his farm. In five years from the time
when he first settled in the bush, he exchanged his rude log house for a
comfortable and convenient framed dwelling, with a well-kept garden in
front, and near his house were left standing some fine shade-trees which
added much to the beauty of the place. In process of time, the excellent
quality of the soil in that range of lots attracted others to locate
themselves in the vicinity; and Hazel-Brook farm soon formed the centre
of a fast growing neighbourhood. Two sons and another daughter had been
added to Mr. Ainslie's family during this time; and the birth of the
little girl was an occasion of much joy to all the family. They had
never forgotten "wee Susie," and all the love which they bore to her
memory was lavished upon this second daughter in the family. The elder
brothers were anxious to bestow the name of their lost favourite, upon
their infant sister, but the parents objected, having rather a dislike
to the practice, so common, of bestowing upon a child a name that had
belonged to the dead; and so the little girl was named Jennette, after
her grandmother, Mrs. Miller. About this time old Mr. Miller died. He
was an old man, "full of days," having seen nearly eighty years of life.
He had ever been a man of strong constitution and robust health, and his
last illness was very short; and from the first he was confident that he
should never recover. When he first addressed his family upon the
subject they were overwhelmed with grief. "Dinna greet for me," said he
in a calm and hopeful voice, "I ha'e already leeved ayont the period
allotted to the life o' man; I ha'e striven in my ain imperfect way to
do my duty in this life, an' I am thankfu' that I am able to say that I
dinna fear death; and I feel that when I dee I shall gang hame to the
house o' a mercifu' Father." So peaceful was his departure, that
although surrounded by his mourning friends, they were unable to tell
the exact moment of his death, like a wearied child that sleeps, he
quietly passed away. They had no burial ground in the settlement, and he
was laid to rest several miles from his home. His family, with the
exception of one son, had all married and removed to homes of their own
some time previous to his death; and to this son was assigned the happy
task of watching over the declining years of his widowed mother. Mr.
Miller, as a dying injunction, charged this son never to neglect his
mother in her old age, and most sacredly did he observe the dying wishes
of his father. Mrs. Miller was also of advanced age. For three years
longer she lingered, and was then laid to rest beside her departed
husband.
Twenty years have passed away since we introduced Robert Ainsley with
his family to the reader. Let us pay a parting visit to Hazel-Brook farm
and note the changes which these twenty years have effected. The forest
has melted away before the hand of steady industry, and we pass by
cultivated fields on our way to the farm of Mr. Ainslie. The clearings
have extended till very few trees obstruct our view as we gaze over the
farms of the numerous settlers, which are now separated by fences
instead of forest trees. But the loveliest spot of all is Hazel-Brook
farm. The farm-house of Robert Ainslie, enlarged and remodelled
according to his increased means, is painted a pure white, and very
pleasant it looks to the eye, through the branches of the shade-trees
which nearly surround it. The clear waters of Hazel-Brook are as bright
and sparkling as ever. The banks near the dwelling are still fringed
with trees and various kinds of shrubs; but farther up the stream all
obstructions have been cleared away, and the sound of a saw-mill falls
upon the ear. Let us enter the dwelling. Mr. and Mrs. Ainslie, although
now no longer young, evince by their cheerful countenance that they yet
retain both mental and bodily vigor. As yet their children all remain at
home, as the boys find ample employment upon the farm, and at the mill;
while Jennette assists her mother in the labours of the household. For
many years the setting sun has rested upon the gleaming spire of the
neat and substantial church erected by the settlers; and now upon the
Sabbath day, instead of listening to a sermon read by a neighbour, they
listen to the regular preaching of the gospel, and each one according to
his means contributes to the support of their minister. It was Mr.
Ainslie who first incited the settlers to exert themselves in the
erection of a suitable place for worship. Some of his neighbours at the
first were not inclined to favour the idea, thinking the neighbourhood
too poor for the undertaking. But he did not suffer himself to become
discouraged, and after considerable delay the frame of the building was
erected. When the building was once begun, they all seemed to work with
a will, and to the utmost of their ability. Those who were unable to
give money brought contributions of lumber, boards, shingles, &c.,
besides giving their own labour freely to the work; and in a short time
the work had so far advanced that they were able to occupy the building
as a place of worship, although in an unfinished state. But the
contributions were continued year after year, till at length they were
privileged to worship in a church which they could call their own. Mr.
Ainslie was a man of talents and education, superior to most of the
early settlers in that section, and it was his counsel, administered in
a spirit of friendship and brotherly kindness, which worked many
improvements and effected many changes for the better as the years
rolled by. As we turn away with a parting glance at the pleasing scene,
we cannot help mentally saying,--surely the residents in this vicinity
owe much to Robert Ainslie for the interest he has ever taken in the
prosperity and improvements of the place, and long may both he and they
live to enjoy the fruit of their united labours.
OLD RUFUS.