ANDREW ANDERSON'S DIARY
In Scotland it had been the master's custom to keep a record of work
done, and of money paid or received. On parting with a neighbor, a
farmer who had a notion of emigrating, he was asked, as a favor, to keep
notes of his own daily experience. He had his doubts as to accounts of
Canada he had read being correct, and knew whatever the master set down
as to climate and other conditions he could depend upon. The book in
which these notes were made was never sent, the master having learnt his
friend had taken a new tack of his farm. From this journal I will now
quote.
June 21.--Rushing work in getting up the shanties. Four men felling
trees and sawing their trunks into the desired length. Awkward in
chopping, I took the job of squaring the logs with the adze-ax. Gordon
notched the ends as I finished them. Digging his cellar Brodie struck
clay, which Jabez tells me is worth money to us. Under Ailie's
direction, the children planted potatoes round the stumps of the trees
as they were cut down, and made a garden on a bare strip of land on the
pond bank. Have got all the boards drawn from Yonge-street. Slow-work
with an ox-sled, having to dodge to avoid striking trees.
June 22.--Jabez helped Brodie to finish his cellar, lining it with
red-cedar poles. Great heat. Oxen drawing logs for the shanty.
June 23.--Began raising today. Jabez, never at a loss in finding the
easiest way, had left standing two trees at the site of the house.
Placing a stout pole in their crotches, long enough to reach across from
one to the other, he attached a pulley. An ox, hitched to the end of the
pulley-rope, hauled the logs to the spot and pulled them up as needed.
This saved much lifting and the walls went up quickly. Gordon had
notched the ends of the logs so exactly that they went together without
trouble.
June 24--Have got Brodie's house up to the square and began putting up
the rafters. Cloudy; heat more bearable.
June 25--Saturday; eager to get the shanty finished all hands turned to
the work, got the shingling finished and the ground floor laid. Mrs
Brodie moved in at dark. Though there was neither door nor windows in
place, she said she was prouder of her shanty than the Duchess of
Hamilton could be of her palace.
June 26--The heat of this country surpasses anything we ever knew in
Scotland. All very tired and glad to rest in the shade, with a smudge to
keep off the mosquitoes. Strange to say, the children do not seem to
care much about the heat.
June 27--Jabez arrived with a wagon loaded with lumber. Drew on sled
first the doors and sashes, which he had got a carpenter to make for
Brodie's house, which Gordon fitted in. Afternoon being wet, we helped
to lay the loft floor and to chink the house from the inside. Gordon put
up two wide shelves in the corners for beds, and is making a table with
benches on each side to sit on. The table has crossed legs; the benches
have no backs.
June 28--Everything being ready, began on my house.
June 29--Made good progress, for we have been gaining experience.
July 1--The roof being on, moved into our shanty; well we did, for it
poured at night.
July 2--Had a long talk about chimneys for our houses. The right way is
to have a mason build them. There may be stones on our land, but there
are none in sight. Jabez says we will have to put up with stick
chimneys. In the hot weather we are having, cooking out of doors is all
right unless when it rains.
July 3--The Sabbath rest beneath our own roof was sweet. Mary pleased
and happy and mother proud of the house.
July 4--Leaving to Gordon the finishing of our shanty, the rest of us
tackled with might and main Auld's. How quickly Jabez and Sal can hew
down a tree is a wonder to me.
July 5--Auld moved his belongings into his shanty this evening, though
it is not half done. Gave Jabez money to bring out with him on Monday
morning the iron-fixtures for our fire-places and the lime for the
chimneys.
July 6--On going out this morning saw a deer with her hind drinking at
the far end of the pond; beautiful creatures. Thank God for the Sabbath.
Without it we would have broken down with our hard toil.
July 7--Jabez brought word from Mr Bambray that he wanted us on the 9th
to give us our deeds. Told me he could not finish out a month, as he had
expected. Business had become brisk in Toronto, and his brothers needed
his help. He started at once to build the chimney in Brodie's house, so
that we could see how to do the other two. In laying the floor a 6-foot
square had been left uncovered for the fire-place. In a frame of heavy
elm logs that fitted the spot, puddled clay mixed with sand was rammed
hard. Two jambs were built with brick which Jabez had brought and across
them a thick plate of cast iron, which was to support the front of the
chimney. The back of the chimney and sides had the few stones found in
digging the cellars, and on top of them was laid more brick until the
ceiling was reached. Care had been taken to build in a crane to hang
pots. From the floor of the loft squarely cut pieces of cedar, 2 inches
thick, were laid in clay mortar, and as the work went on were plastered
with the same mortar inside and out, until the top was two feet above
the ridge-board. Jabez said there was no danger of the cedar sticks
taking fire. They were so well-beded in the clay that when it hardened
the chimney was all one piece. If it fell, it would not break.
July 11--Brodie, Auld, and myself accompanied Jabez on his going to
Toronto. Mr Bambray had arranged everything and in an hour we had paid
him and each of us had his deed. We asked him about securing a road to
our lots. He said two blocks of bush lay between them and Yonge-street.
Both were owned by a man who was holding to sell, and he was afraid any
influence we could exert would not compel him to make the road, though
that was the condition on which the government had given the land. Met
in the tavern several emigrants eager to get lots, all discontented with
their treatment at the government office. One said he would go to
Illinois. Asked how he would get there. Told me by Buffalo and lake
Erie; land sold there at $1.25 an acre and no bush to clear.
July 12--Tired and rainy. Auld and Brodie came over to square our
accounts. From the time we left the ship till we got into our shanties,
we lived in common. Found Brodie had least money and more mouths to
fill. His wife said she did not fear--they would strachle through until
they got a crop. We had a long talk about getting a yoke of oxen, which
we must have. Offered, if I got them, they would pay me in days' work. I
decided to put up a stable to be ready when I bought a yoke.
July 13--Took a tramp to see rear of my lot, Gordon guiding with a
compass. All of a sudden the bush ceased, and on finding I stood on the
edge of a swamp, I got angry at my being fooled into paying for a
cattail marsh. There is quite a stretch not very wide, angling across
the width of my lot. On thinking it over, am satisfied Bambray knew no
more about its existence than I did. Returning home I followed the
creek, which starts from it. There was a little water flowing. Noticed,
where the creek leaves the marsh, a stretch of tall wild grass.
July 14--Could not sleep thinking about the swamp. Got Gordon to make a
dozen cross-staffs and started for it to take levels. Found the marsh
sloped towards the creek, and between where it entered and a hundred
yards down the creek there is a fall of three feet, so the marsh can be
drained. Dug down in several places and found the marsh to be a deposit
of black soil on top of clay.
July 17--The Simmins family spent the afternoon with us. He knew about
the swamp, and called it a, beaver-meadow. The grass that grew at the
head of the creek would make hay good enough for cattle. Said I would
find the dam the beavers had made if I searched a while, and if I got
out the logs that formed it, the water would have a free course into the
creek.
July 18--Spent all Saturday cutting grass at the head of the creek. It
is fine but long. Turned it today and, if rain keeps off, will be ready
to cock tomorrow afternoon, the sun is so hot and the grass so ripe.
July 19--Had Sal, Gordon, and Archie come and help to find the dam the
beavers had built. On a crowbar showing us where the logs were buried,
shovelled off the dirt and pried them out. It was wet, dirty work but we
managed it. Cleared the bed of the creek of the rubbish that choked it
at its head. Sal found a turtle, which he carried home.
July 20--Brodie and Auld came early and we set to work to get logs ready
for the ox-stable. Very dry and hot.
July 21--Piled the hay in two stacks and thatched them as well as we
could. We had just finished when a thunderstorm burst.
July 23--Gordon, who has made furniture for all the houses, set up a
cupboard for Ailie, of which she is quite proud. The lad has a wonderful
knack, and can copy anything he has a chance to examine. A deluge of
rain; never saw such a downfall in Scotland. Lasted six hours and then
came out sultry.
July 24--Sal stepped in while we were at breakfast with the hind quarter
of a deer, his father had come on during the heavy rain and shot. First
fresh meat we have had. Found it dry eating. Sunday though it was,
walked with Sal to head of creek and found water was running freely into
it from the marsh. Coming back Sal spied bees round a tree and said he
would get the honey next month. Told me the names of the different
squirrels and birds we saw and he had fun with a ground hog.
July 30--Although the weather has been warm have worked steadily
chopping down trees; the sound of the axe coming from the three lots. On
each of them there is now quite a clearance. Jabez had shown us how to
make plan-heaps, and we so fell the trees, which will save hard work
when we come to burn. Except myself, all are getting to be expert with
the axe, though Sal, with less exertion, can chop down two to Allan's
one.
August 1--Growth far outstrips that of Scotland, and no wonder, there is
no such heat there. In thinning turnips and the like Ailie kept what is
pulled for boiling; they make good greens. We had a long talk about
buying a yoke of oxen at once, and Brodie and Auld agreed to help me
with the stable for them.
August 3--Fixed on spot for stable and began preparing logs for it,
choosing cedar and pine as being easier to handle.
August 8--Began raising stable. Gordon made very neat corners.
August 9--Had stable up to the square when we dropped work.
August 11--Got the rafters on. Having no sawed lumber or shingles, will
have to cut basswood staves and scoops.
August 13--Stable finished and all proud of it. There is a roomy loft
which will be useful for more than fodder, for I am told when there is
no bed in the shanty for a visitor they 'loft him.'
August 14--Had arranged to walk to Toronto, for none of us have been
inside a church since we left Scotland, but the sun came out with such a
blistering heat that we had to give up our intention. It is awfully
lonesome in the bush, and were it not for the work you are forced to do,
we would get vacant-minded. It has been a great blessing in every way
that the three families settled together. I can believe the report that
a family planted in the depths of the bush, without a neighbor nearer
than three miles, abandoned all they had accomplished to get company.
August 15--While chinking the stable, Gordon helping, I heard a crash
and a cry from where Allan was chopping. We ran to the spot, and my
heart jumped into my mouth, when I saw him lying as if he were dead
under a big branch. I was for dragging him out, when Gordon showed me
the movement would bring down the butt of the branch on his body. He ran
for help. Ailie came first and then Brodie, and while the three of us
held up the limb of the tree, Ailie pulled him out. She was calmer than
any of us. Carrying him to the house, we had the satisfaction of finding
there was no bone broken. A blue mark above the right eye showed where
he had been struck. As he was breathing easily we had hopes he would
come to, but it was long before he did, and it was the most anxious hour
Ailie and I had ever known. When he opened his eyes, and looking
wonderingly round asked, 'What is a' the steer aboot?' we never before
thanked God with such fervor. Gordon had run for Mrs Simmins, and while
we were keeping wet cloths on Allan's head, she hurried in. Looking at
the mark, which was now swollen, and feeling all round it, Mrs Simmins
declared there was no fracture of the skull and that the blow had only
stunned him. 'Well for him that he is a thick-headed Scotchman or he
would have been killed,' she remarked. Taking a fleam from her pocket,
she lanced the lump and let it bleed freely. 'If bruised blood is left
to get into the system, there will be a fever, in which many a man has
died.' Allan fell asleep and when he woke it was to ask for a drink.
Aug. 16--Allan woke this morning all right, except feeling giddy. He
will never again have as narrow an escape with his life. The tree he was
felling, a big maple, in falling toppled over a dead tree beside it,
which was so rotten that it fell in a shower of pieces.
Aug. 18.--Went to see the swamp and glad to find it was drier. The water
has got vent and is seeping into the creek. Could walk on parts that
would not carry before. Looked it over to plan how to drain it. Gordon,
who was with me, said, Cut a ditch up the centre. I showed him that
would not do when the swamp came to be plowed. The right way was to cut
a ditch across the head and have it empty into another along the south
side to the creek. Looked at me in wonder as he asked if I ever expected
to plow it. Said I would grow grain on it before other three years. On
returning he and I did a bit of underbrushing, piling as much of the
brush as we could round the felled timber to help to burn it.
Aug. 19--Kept underbrushing all day.
Aug. 20--So hot gave the ax a rest. In the afternoon a thunderstorm. The
downpour tested the roof of the stable, which leaked in only one place,
where a scoop had split.
Aug. 21--Quite cool with a brisk northerly breeze. Wife and myself
started for Toronto, and never enjoyed a walk more. Did us good to watch
the clearances as we passed along. Fall wheat all cut and stacked.
Barley being cradled and oats looking extra heavy though short in the
straw. The sight of gardens and patches of potatoes pleased Ailie, and
we both were surprised by the Indian corn, which we never saw before. It
was tasseling. The bell was ringing when we reached Toronto and had to
ask our way to the Presbyterian church. The crowd was going to the
Episcopal and Methodist churches. The service was dry and cold, but it
did us both good to worship with our fellows once more and join in the
psalms. As we were walking away I heard somebody behind us call, Andrew
Anderson, and looking back saw Mrs Bambray. Told her we were going to
the tavern for dinner. 'Thee shall go to no tavern on the seventh day,'
and slipping her arm into my wife's, led us to her house. Pointing to a
door she told me to go in and I would see what I never saw in Scotland,
and led my wife upstairs. Opening the door I found myself in a backshed,
with Bambray rubbing ointment on a negro's arm. The man was a runaway
slave and had arrived that morning on a schooner from Oswego. Bambray
had washed him and dressed him in clean overalls. He bade the negro pull
off his shirt so that I might see the marks of the welts made by a
whipping he had got with a blacksnake whip and his master's brand, made
with a hot iron, on his right arm. The left arm had got injured in his
flight and had an unhealed wound. The poor fellow said he came from
Maryland and had known no trouble until his wife had been taken from him
and sold. His master ordered him to pick on another woman, but he loved
his wife and ran away to find her; had been caught and whipped to within
an inch of his life. Hearing slaves were free in Canada, he took the
first chance to slip away. He hid during the day, and at night, guided
by the plow in the sky, kept northwards. He got some food by visiting
negro huts, and at one of these he was told how a band of white people
helped negroes seeking their liberty. Finding a house he was directed to
call at, he found it was true. The man fed him and ferried him across a
river and gave him the landmarks of the next house he was to call at for
help, and from one to another he was passed along until he got to
Oswego, where he was hid in the hold of a schooner whose captain was an
Englishman. It had taken him a long time to make the journey, he could
not tell me how long, for he did not know the days of the week much less
the months. On getting to Toronto he was guided by a sailor boy to
Bambray's house, which was one of several where runaways were sure of
help. Asked Bambray what he would do with the man. When fit for work he
would be given an ax, saw, and sawhorse and was sure of earning a
living. 'Me strong,' said the man, standing up, 'and me free.' Left
Bambray's late in the afternoon and got home before sunset.
Aug. 27--A week of steady work chopping. We must get clearances big
enough to raise crops for next year's living no matter how hot the days
are.
Aug. 28--The Simmins family spent the day with us. They leave for the
lake Simcoe country. All three like the free life of fishing, trapping,
and hunting, and spoke as if they were going on a holiday. If they did
well and got a big pack of furs, they intend in the spring to try
Illinois, so we may not meet again. They sang and talked all day and we
parted with sorrow. The days are still hot but the nights are cool with
heavy dews.
Aug. 30--Each day hard at work felling trees. When I first saw our lot
and how thick the trees stood on it I could hardly believe it possible
we could clear the land of them, yet we have been here scarce three
months and there is a great slash. Taking the trees one by one and
perseverance has done it. Burning the felled trees that cumber the
ground is the next undertaking. This cutting out a home from the bush is
work that exhausts body and mind, but the reward is what makes life
sweet to right-minded people--independence.
September 1--Had new potatoes to-day. They are dry and mealy and
abundant in yield. I may say this is the first food the land has given
us.
Sept. 2--Had a chance to send a note to Jabez to look out a suitable
yoke of oxen. On going to Yonge-street found a long building going up.
It is a tavern. The street is lined with them all the way to Toronto
and how far north they go cannot say. Being the leading outlet there is
much traffic on it. Saw several parties of emigrants pass. Imprudent to
come so late in the season. They will have their sufferings when winter
sets in for they have not time to prepare for it. Experience has shown
me emigrants should come early in spring. I spoke with one lot. They
sailed from Liverpool to New York and thence by the Erie canal to
Oswego, avoiding the ordeal of the St Lawrence rapids. It seems strange
but it is so, the United States is Upper Canada's market. In comparison,
little freight either goes or comes by Montreal. This ought not to be.
The reason given is, that Lower Canada will not help to improve the St
Lawrence route as it would not be to her benefit.
Sept. 5--There is a plague of squirrels--black, red and grey. Bobby
keeps killing them and we have them on the table every day. Pushing the
chopping, for our next year's living depends on the size of our
clearances. Weather being cooler, work not so exhausting. Had a scare
yesterday from a bear trotting to the pond. It had its drink and fled on
seeing us.
Sept. 9--Had word from Jabez to come to town as he had a yoke of oxen
bought for me.
Sept. 10--Walked to Toronto, taking Gordon to help. Am no judge of oxen.
They cost $60. Besides them had to pay for logging-chain and an ox-sled.
Gordon spent the time in the wheelwright's shop where I bought the
sled. On Jabez telling me we would need somebody to teach us how to
handle oxen and to burn a fallow, I went to see Sloot, and bargained
with him for a week's work. On getting all that was needed for my
neighbors and myself the sled was heaped up; we walked, Sloot driving.
It was near midnight when we reached home, but Ailie and the family got
up to see the oxen by candle-light.
Sept. 11--Sunday though it was, Sloot, taking the boys to clear the way,
had to go to the stacks near the swamp for hay to feed the oxen. It was
a work of necessity. They came back in the afternoon with a small load,
for the track was rough.
Sept. 12--Sloot and all hands were up at sunrise to set fire to the
brushpiles. The day was cool with a breeze that helped the fires.
Burning the logs was next taken in hand, and being green and thick they
were slow to burn.
Sept. 13--The weather was again favorable for our work of burning the
logs but, despite a strong wind, they burned slowly and we had to keep
poking and turning them to get a hot blaze. The smoke and heat were like
to overcome me, but Sloot went ahead. He was born in the bush and all
its work is second nature to him. Washed in the pond and got to bed
late.
Sept. 14--Auld and Sloot, Allan helping, worked all night with the
logheaps, which I found this morning much reduced in size. The
logging-chains and the oxen today came into play, the partly consumed
logs being hauled to form fresh piles. By dark there was quite a
clearance.
Sept. 15--Light white frost this morning. Helping neighbors. Sun came
out on our starting to burn at Auld's but the wind blew a gale, and we
had a splendid burn.
Sept. 16--Pouring rain and glad of it, for all of us except Sloot are
dead-tired. He says the rain will wash the charred logs and make them
easier to handle.
Sept. 17--Spent the day hauling the biggest of the partly burned logs to
make a fence across the clearing. The smaller stuff we heaped up and set
on fire. Allan handles the oxen very well considering. Wanted Sloot to
stay another week, but he could not. He is a civil fellow and not
greedy. Ailie sent a queer present to his wife. Before Mrs Simmins left
she explained and showed how to secure and dry dandelion roots to make
coffee. In lifting potatoes, when a dandelion root is seen, it is pulled
carefully, or, if scarce among potatoes, dug up carefully in the fall so
as to get the entire root. The roots are washed, dried in the sun and
stored away. As wanted for use, a root or so is chopped small, roasted
in a pan until crisp, then ground, and made like ordinary coffee.
Sept. 24--All week we worked at getting crop into the fallow. After
clearing it of sticks, we used spade, grape, and rake to get it
something near level. Gordon studded a log with wooden spikes which we
dragged over the worst of it. On getting the best seedbed possible,
sowed wheat. The soil had a topdressing of charcoal cinders and ashes
that I thought would help. If the seed gives an average yield, will not
have to buy flour next year.
Sept. 26--Rained all day yesterday; at night cleared with quite a touch
of frost. Busy chopping to enlarge clearance. The young fellow who came
out with us from Scotland and got drunk at Montreal, appeared at our
door this morning. He had lived chiefly in Toronto and his appearance
showed had done no good. Wanted a job. Agreed with him to dig ditch in
the swamp, the understanding being if he got drunk he need not come
back. Leaves are turning color.
Oct. 2--Sat most of the day on front step taking in the beauty of the
trees that overhang the pond on three of its sides. I can compare them
to nothing but gigantic flowers. Steeped in the haze of a mellow sun the
sight was soothing. Nothing like this in Scotland. The birds have gone;
the swallows left in August.
Oct. 9--Been a sorrowful week. On unpacking our baggage on arrival in
the bush, found my mother's spinning-wheel was broken. Gordon managed to
mend it and I bought ten pounds of wool. This she washed, teased, and
carded, and proud she was when she sat down and began to spin the rolls
into yarn. Tuesday afternoon Ailie and Ruth went to pick wild grapes,
and the rest of us were at our work in the bush. Grannie was left alone.
She had moved her wheel to the door to sit in the sunshine, where she
could see the brightness of the trees and enjoy the calm that prevailed.
How long she span we do not know. On Ailie's return she was startled at
the sight of her bending over the wheel. She was dead. While stooping to
join a broken thread God took her. Next day buried her on a rising bit
of ground overlooking the pond. What a mother she was I alone can know.
I shall never forget her. Last evening there was to us a marvellous
display of northern lights. When daylight faded pink clouds appeared in
the sky mixed with long shooting rays of white light. The clouds changed
shape continually, but the color was always a shade of red. At times the
clouds filled the entire northeastern sky.
Oct. 10--Crying need for rain; everything dry as tinder; air full of
smoke.
Oct. 15--My worker at the ditch insisted he had to go to Toronto. Gave
him his pay and knew he would not come back, despite his promise. There
are more slaves than black men. The man of whom whiskey has got a grip
is the greater slave.
Oct. 17--Closed the house on Sunday morning and all walked to Toronto to
attend worship. Today yoked the sled to an ox, for our path to
Yonge-street is too narrow for two, in order to find settlers who had
produce to sell. Bought corn in cob, apples, pumpkins, and vegetables,
but only one bag of oats, few having threshed. Was kindly received and
learnt much. In one shanty found a shoemaker at work. He travels from
house to house and is paid by the day, his employers providing the
material. Agreed with him to pay us a visit and he gave me a list of
what to get in Toronto.
Oct. 18--Spent day in trying to make everything snug for winter.
Oct 19--Went to Toronto determined to find out whether there is no way
of compelling the man who owns the land that blocks us from Yonge-street
to open a road. First of all I called upon him, and he received me
civilly. I told him how our three families were shut in. Asked if we
would not buy his lot, he would sell the 1200 acres cheap and give us
time. Answered we could not, we had all we could manage. He thought we
were unreasonable in asking him to make a road which he did not need. It
would be of use to us but not to him. Asked him if the conditions on
which the lot was granted did not require him to open a road? Replied,
that was like many other laws the legislature made, and which were
disregarded everywhere in the province. When I said, since it is law it
could be enforced, he smiled and said there was no danger of that. Was
pleased to hear of our settlement behind his land and hoped it would
help to bring him customers. Turning from his door, I made straight for
a lawyer's office, to make sure whether the owner of vacant land could
not be forced to open a road. The lawyer, an oldish man, listened to my
story and told me to give up the idea of compelling the making of the
road we needed. You are a stranger and ignorant of how matters stand.
The law is straight enough, that whenever the government grants a lot,
the receiver must do his part to open a road, but the law has become a
dead letter. Two-thirds of the granted land is held by men who have
favor with the government and who are holding to sell. Did you ever hear
of Peter Russel? When a surveying party came in, he found out from their
reports where the lots of best land were, and made out deeds to himself.
'I, Peter Russel, lieutenant-governor, etc., do grant to you, Peter
Russel,' such and such lots. If you sued the gentleman you visited this
forenoon you would lose. The court officials all have lots they expect
to turn into money and would throw every obstacle in the way. Should
your case come to trial, it would be before a judge who is a relative,
and who holds patents for thousands of acres of wild land. The condition
in their titles about cutting out roads, is like those that require a
house to be built and so many acres of land in crop before a patent is
issued. There are thousands of settlers worse off than you are, for you
say you have a sled-path to your house. The lawyer spoke candidly and
showed his sincerity and goodwill by refusing to take the fee I offered.
Oct. 20--A real cold day; fine for chopping and the sound of trees
falling was heard every hour. Wheat is growing finely. Had a talk with
Auld and Brodie at night and agreed we would improve the sled-track to
Yonge-street, seeing there was no prospect of the owner doing anything.
Oct. 22--Surprised by a message that there was a bull-plow waiting for
me at the corner-house on Yonge-street. Jabez had told Mr Bambray about
the swamp, and he sent the plow to help to bring it into cultivation.
Oct. 24--Took the plow out to the swamp, which I found pretty dry at one
side. Yoked the oxen to it and I plowed all afternoon. Felt good to grip
the stilts once more.
Oct. 29--Spent three days on the sledroad and the three families joined
in the work. Cut a great many roots, filled hollows, and felled trees
whose branches obstructed. It is now fairly smooth but far too narrow
for a wagon.
Oct. 30--Surprised by a visit from Jabez, who came on horseback. Said he
had a chance to give Gordon a few weeks' training with a carpenter. He
was not now busy himself, as the shipping season was over. Brought Ailie
a basket of fresh water herring. Left after dinner.
Oct. 31--Gordon started early for Toronto, with his bundle over his
shoulder. We shall miss him sadly. In the evening our neighbors came and
we held Halloween as heartily as if we had been in Ayrshire.
Nov. 1--Bright and frosty. Took the oxen back to the swamp; found there
was not frost enough to interfere and turned over a few ridges, and cast
waterfurs leading to the ditch.
Nov. 2--White frosts fetch rain in this country and a cold rain fell all
day. Sawing and splitting the logs we had set aside for firewood.
Nov. 3--The rain turned to snow during the night and there are fully
four inches. The youngsters hitched an ox to the sled and started off,
shouting and laughing, for Yonge-street to have their first sleigh
drive. Came home in great glee in time for supper. Robbie says he wants
a sleigh bell.
Nov. 5--Snow gone; clear and fine. Chopping down trees.
Nov. 6--A peaceful autumn day. Heard a robin and wondered how it came to
be left behind by its comrades. Had a walk in the bush in the afternoon
thinking of mother and the land I shall never forget.
Nov. 7--Shoemaker arrived. A great talker. Tells of families where the
children had to stay in all winter for lack of boots.
Nov. 12--A week of steady clearing of the land; we shall have a great
burning in the spring. Have had hard frosts every night. Going to
Yonge-street to see if I could get oats for the oxen, for the swamp hay
is not nourishing and they are young and growing, found provisions
remarkably plenty and cheap, especially pork. Bargained for a two-year
old steer which the farmer promised not to kill until steady frost set
in. Thankful we did not go farther into the bush. It is a blessing to be
near older settlers who have a surplus to sell. There was a smoky haze
over the bush today, and the sun shone with a subdued brightness; very
still with a mellow warmth. Was told it was the Indian summer.
Nov. 20--Had four days of Indian summer and then a drenching rain from
the east, which stopped chopping. A black frost today, dark and bleak.
Had a letter from Gordon yesterday, who is happy in learning so much
that is new to him. He was at Bambray's for dinner last Sabbath and
spent an evening at Dunlop's. He will make friends wherever he goes.
December 3--There has been nothing worth setting down. Have had a long
spell of grey, cloudy days, which just suited felling trees and
underbrushing. Have got our patch of wheat well fenced in, not to keep
cattle out, there are none near us, but to help to keep a covering of
snow on the wheat. Bobbie trapped a coon that haunted the barn and it
made fine eating. He says the pelt will make a neck-wrap for his mother.
Dec. 7--Went to get the steer I had bargained for. The farmer suggested
instead of butchering the beast and hauling the carcase it would be
easier to drive it on foot and kill it at home, which I did.
Dec. 8--Killed the steer, which dressed well. Auld and Brodie took away
their portions to salt down, but Ailie followed Mrs Bambray's advice.
After the pieces are hard frozen she will pack them in snow.
Dec. 10--Began to snow gently yesterday and continues. There are now
about six inches.
Dec. 11--Bitterly cold; never felt the like. What Burns calls cranreuch
cauld gets into the bones, but this frost seems to squeeze body and
bones, pinching and biting the exposed skin.
Dec. 13--Ailie is never at a loss. On Mrs Brodie telling the children
woke at night crying from cold, she had no blankets to give her. Having
sheets we brought from Scotland she took two and placed as an inside
lining the skins of the squirrels Robbie had killed. Simmins had taught
him how to tan and give them a soft finish. Brodie and Auld's houses are
cold because they only half chinked them. Mrs Auld said the blankets
were frozen where the breath struck them and the loaf of bread could be
sawn as if it were a block of wood. Both now believe Canada's cold is
not to be trifled with and are scraping moss off the trees to caulk
between the outside logs the first warm spell.
Dec. 14--The frost holds. Worked all day with Allan. Does not feel cold
in the bush. The trees break the wind that is so piercing in the
clearings.
Dec. 15--Milder; in the sun at noon almost warm. Got out ox-sled and
went with Brodie along Yonge-street to buy pork. Bought three carcases.
People are kindly. Have never called at a house where we were not
invited to return and pay a family visit.
Dec. 19--Have had a three day snap of frost, Either getting used to the
cold or are adapting ourselves to meet it, for do not feel the
discomfort we did. Ruth going to the ox-stable without putting a wrap
over her head got her cheeks and ears frozen. Robbie trapped a hare.
Pleads for a gun. Ailie will give him a surprise New Year's morning.
Dec. 24--The snow helps greatly in hauling fallen trees and logs. Give
them their own time, and oxen beat horses in handling difficult loads.
Gordon came walking in this afternoon, quite unexpectedly, for we did
not look for him until this day week. He says Christmas is the big day
in Toronto, and not New Year's day. His master had shut his shop for a
week. He gave him a deerskin jerkin as a Christmas present.
Dec. 27--Gordon has been busy making snowshoes. His first pair was for
Ruth, who can now walk in them. Snowed all day; not cold. He has taught
her to ride one of the oxen.
Dec. 28--A thaw, much needed to settle the snow, which was getting too
deep. Youngsters shovelled a strip on the pond and made a fine slide.
Dec. 31--Made preparation to keep Hogmanay, inviting our two neighbors.
Had built a big fire, with a beech back-log, so heavy that an ox had to
haul it to the door, and put a smaller one on top, while in front split
wood blazed, and made the shanty so light that no candle was needed. The
young folk had a great night of it, and braved the frost to go to the
stable door and sing their old Hogmanay rhymes. The feast was plain as
plain could be, but contented and merry hearts care not for dainties.
January 1, 1826--All gathered again in our shanty after dinner, when we
had a fellowship meeting to thank God for all his mercies, and surely,
when I review all the dangers he has led us through, and the mercies he
has bestowed on us during the year that has gone, we have good cause to
adore him. Gave Star and Bright an extra feed of oats.
Jany. 2--Ailie had just sat down after clearing the dinner dishes away,
when Ruth came running in crying she heard sleighbells coming up our
road. I went out and was astonished when a sleigh came in sight, the
horse dashing the snow into powder breast high. It was Mr Dunlop and his
wife, who had come to pay us a New Year's call. They stayed an hour and
it was a happy one, for Mr Dunlop is a heartsome man. Was greatly taken
with the improvements we had made. His wife brought a package of tea for
Ailie. She made them a cup of dandelion coffee which, after their drive,
they relished with her oatmeal cakes. In parting took me aside and told
me if I ran short of cash to come to him. He is a friend. After they
were gone, Robbie and Allan came home. They had to have a tramp in the
bush to try the gun their mother had got for Robbie. They brought in
three partridge and two hares, and were in great spirits. Gordon had
bought the gun from an English lad who had come to Canada with the
notion that it was full of wild beasts and Indians. He found he had no
need of it.
Jany. 4--Have had a heavy snowstorm with a gale of wind. The snow here
is not flaky, but fine and powdery, fills the air so you cannot see
ahead, and sifts through every crevice. Thankful when the blast died
down. Mrs Auld declares if the summer heat and the winter cauld were
carded through ane anither Canada would have a grand climate. The two
extremes are indeed most trying.
Jany 5--Work in the bush stopped by the snow, is so deep that when a
tree is felled half is buried.