enjoyed, for the first time since they left home, a few hours of sound
sleep. They were confirmed afresh, by the incident of the stack, in
their resolution to keep close to the river, being elated with the idea
that it would certainly lead them to some inhabited place. But their
dog, the faithful companion of their dangers and partaker in their
sufferings, was that morning unable to proceed any farther. When he
attempted to follow them, he staggered a few paces, and then fell, but
had not power to rise again. The hunger of the men had by this time
increased to such a degree, that they could have eaten the most
loathsome food; yet they desisted from killing the dog;—they left him
to die a lingering death rather than imbrue their hands in the blood of
a fellow-sufferer. Scarcely had they proceeded a mile beyond the
hay-stack, when they were intercepted by an impassable swamp, which
compelled them to leave the direction of the river. Difficulties seemed
to surround them on every hand, and success appeared to smile on them
for a moment but to add to their other sufferings the pangs of blighted
hope and bitter disappointment. They were compelled to wander once more
into the pathless desert, with very faint expectations of regaining the
river.
“They walked a considerable distance on the eighth day; and at four
o’clock on the ninth discerned the tracks of two men and a dog. They now
imagined the long-wished for settlement at hand. With renewed spirit and
alacrity, therefore, they pushed onward, indulging by the way the
pleasing reflection, that the issue of the newly-discovered track would
ere long terminate their woes, and bring them to enjoy once more the
unspeakable pleasure of human society. Judge, then, what must have been
their feelings, when, towards evening, they were brought to the very
spot on which they had lain five nights before! Hope now no longer shed
her delusive rays into their hearts; and they neither had a thought, nor
felt a desire, to prolong a miserable existence. They sat down,
therefore, without making a fire, and formed a resolution that night to
end both their miseries and their lives. The tears trickled down their
haggard cheeks, as they gazed upon each other’s altered countenance; and
the chief dread which both felt was, that the one should die before his
companion, and leave the survivor to expire unpitied and unseen. Another
reflection added poignancy to their sufferings; and that was, the idea
of being devoured, after death, by the ravenous monsters of the
wilderness. Howay, however, with some degree of fortitude endeavoured to
compose himself, trusting that, ’though, after his skin, wolves should
destroy his mortal body, yet in his flesh should he see God; whom he
should see for himself, and his eyes should behold, and not another.’
But Nowlan, though sixty-four winters had furrowed his cheeks, had very
little notion of a future state,—his perishable body alone engrossed
his attention. Educated, or rather reared, in this land of impiety and
infidelity, his ideas of the Deity and of his attributes were little
calculated to elevate his views from the miseries of this world to the
felicities of another and a better. He had scarcely ever heard the sound
of the gospel, and knew nothing of its offers of mercy. In this world he
had no longer any interest; and about the eternal concerns of the next
he was wholly ignorant, and seemed utterly unconcerned. How deplorable
the situation of such a being! Better for him had he never been born!
With bright and well-founded prospects of a blissful immortality, a man
may rejoice in the midst of tribulations, if possible still more acute;
but, without these powerful consolations in a dying hour, he must sink
in despair beneath the accumulated weight of misery and remorse.
“After indulging in the gloomiest reflections for nearly an
hour,—during which time they both declared, that if a tree had then
been in the act of falling on them, they would not have made any
exertion to escape from its destructive stroke,—they began to look upon
it as their duty to employ the means which Providence had placed within
their reach for the preservation of that life which He who gave
possessed the sole right of taking away; and they resolved once more to
light a fire. This with the utmost difficulty they accomplished, for
they were so much debilitated as to be scarcely able to exert themselves
in collecting a sufficient quantity of fuel. As they consumed the last
grain of their powder in this operation, they became susceptible but of
one emotion,—that of indescribable horror, at the idea of being
compelled, ere another night should elapse, to pay the debt of nature in
a manner the most abhorrent to their feelings. They now conversed
freely, but in a melancholy strain, on the method in which it was most
likely that the frost would accomplish their destruction; and agreed in
the opinion, that it would first attack the extremities of their bodies,
and gradually proceed up towards the vitals, until their hearts’-blood
should become congealed to ice. After this discourse they lay down,
almost unmindful of the past and careless about the future, endeavouring
to resign themselves to the fate which awaited them, whatever that might
be.
“On the morning of the ninth day of their deplorable wanderings, they
arose in a state of perfect apathy, and began to traverse the same lands
which they had so reluctantly trodden six days before. In the evening
they arrived at the hay-stack, where they left the dog. They found him
still living, but unable to get upon his feet. He was reduced to a mere
skeleton, and appeared to be in the agonies of death. The desire of life
once more took its seat in their hearts, and they resolved to seek
diligently for some sort of food. Their appetites were now so
unconquerably ravenous, that they stripped the bark off an elm tree, and
devoured large quantities of its inner rind. Scarcely had they eaten it,
however, when they became exceedingly delirious, and were forced to lie
down among the hay, where they remained until morning in an agony of
despair.
By daylight, on the tenth morning, they were much better, and would have
arisen, but, recollecting that they now possessed no materials for
lighting a fire, they resolved to roll themselves up in the hay again,
and quietly await the hour of dissolution, whenever it should arrive.
Their resolution had but just been formed, when they heard the joyful
sound of a cow-bell, which seemed to proceed from the opposite shore of
the river. They arose immediately, and, on looking over the water,
perceived to their infinite satisfaction a log-house recently erected,
but yet without any appearance of inhabitants. For some time they felt
inclined to doubt the evidence of their senses, and to consider the
log-house as a creature of their disturbed imaginations. They
recollected passing that way before without observing any building; but,
on calling to mind the circumstance of seeing the boat and the canoe,
they were convinced that all was reality—delightful, heart-cheering
reality! They, therefore, resolved, by some means or other, to ford the
river; and walking with feeble steps but bounding hearts along the bank,
they soon discovered a crossing place. On arriving at the opposite
shore, they were met by a white man and two Indians, who took them to
the house of one Townsend, with whom they were well acquainted, and from
whom they experienced every mark of attention which their wretched
condition required. The heart of sensibility, if conversant with
affliction, may form some estimate of their feelings at that moment.
Every tender emotion, of which the soul of unlettered man is
susceptible, may be supposed to have been in full exercise at that
exhilarating interview. And if a single feeling had then any marked
preponderance over another, it must have been that of
gratitude—boundless, unspeakable gratitude, to the protecting power of
an Almighty and gracious Deliverer.
“A few months previous to this event, Townsend had discovered a
salt-spring on the banks of the river Sauble, and was at this time
preparing to commence a manufactory of that article at a distance of
nearly twenty miles from any human habitation. This embryo
salt-manufactory was the building which Howay and Nowlan discovered
after they heard the ringing of the cow-bell. It was a fortunate
circumstance for them; for if this spot had been uninhabited, as it was
a short time before, they must unquestionably have breathed their last
on the banks of that unexplored river, which flows into Lake Huron at a
point which is nearly 100 miles from any settlement. They were only
thirty miles from the lake when interrupted by the swamp, in avoiding
which they had inadvertently wandered back into the woods; and, on
discovering their own tracks, returned unconsciously to the place where
they had lain five nights before—a catastrophe, which, at the time,
they lamented as a dire misfortune, but which afterwards, as you have
seen, was the cause of their final deliverance.
“At Townsend’s house they were fifty miles from home, every yard of
which they had to travel through the wilderness, but not without the aid
of a blazed line to direct them. Nowlan’s feet were by this time in a
very bad condition; and as he could not procure at that lonely dwelling
the materials necessary to prevent mortification, which he was
apprehensive would very soon take place, he and his companion set off
early on the following morning. Mrs. Townsend kindly furnished them with
provisions, and every thing necessary for their journey; and on the eve
of the thirteenth day after their departure from the Talbot Settlement,
they had once more the happiness of enjoying the comforts of their own
firesides.—So much for the enviable pleasures of the American
bear-chase!”
We add to this interesting account a few remarks on bears from a clever
writer on Natural History.
“There are probably three or four different kinds of bears in North
America; but neither the grizzly bear, the barren-ground bear, nor the
great polar species, infest the countries with which we are more
immediately occupied, although the last-named occasionally travels as
far southward on the coast of Labrador as the fifty-fifth parallel.
However, the black bear (_Ursus niger Americanus_) is well known in
Canada, and is found wherever wooded districts occur, northwards to the
shores of the Arctic Sea, southwards as far as Carolina, and westward
across the continent to the shores of the Pacific Ocean. Although this
species is the least carnivorous of its kind, yet Dr. Richardson informs
us that its strength and agility, combined with its great tenacity of
life, render an attack upon it very hazardous, and its pursuit has
always been considered by the rude inhabitants of the northern regions
as a matter of the highest importance. They previously propitiate the
whole race of bears by sundry ceremonies, and when an individual is
slain they treat it with the utmost respect, address it as a near
relation, and offer it a pipe to smoke. This veneration has no doubt
arisen from their admiration of the skill and pertinacity with which
bruin defends himself, and it is both curious and interesting to observe
how the same feeling is exhibited by various tribes of people, speaking
different languages, and inhabiting separate countries. We know from
Regnard that the chase of the bear is regarded by the Laplanders as
among the most solemn actions of their life; and Leems tells us that
they never address that animal familiarly by its proper name of
_Guourhja_, but call it “the old man in the fur cloak,” because it has
the strength of ten men, and the sense of twelve. Bear-dances, in which
its movements are imitated, are well known among the recreations of the
North American Indians. Alexander Henry, who travelled in Canada and the
adjoining territories in the years 1760-76, has furnished us with some
valuable and curious remarks regarding the black bear of the New World.
While on the banks of Lake Michigan, in the month of January, he
observed the trunk of an enormous pine tree much torn, as if by the
claws of one ascending and descending. He next noticed a large opening
in the upper portion, near which the smaller branches were broken off.
It was agreed that all his retainers should assemble together next
morning, to assist in cutting down the tree, as from the absence of
tracks upon the surrounding snow, it was presumed that a bear had for
some time lain concealed within. The tree measured eighteen feet in
circumference. Their axes being very light, they toiled all day, both
men and women, like beavers, till the sun went down, by which time they
had got only about half way through the trunk. They renewed the attack
next morning, and about two in the afternoon the monarch of the wood
reeled and fell. For several minutes after the first crash every thing
remained quiescent, and it was feared their labour had been in vain; but
just as Mr. Henry advanced towards the opening, out came an enormous
bear, which he immediately shot. No sooner was the monster dead than his
assailants approached, and all took the head in their hands, stroking
and kissing it repeatedly, begging its pardon a thousand times, calling
it their relation and grandmother, and requesting it to lay no blame on
them since it was truly an Englishman who had put it to death. “If,”
adds Mr. Henry, “it was I that killed their grandmother, they were not
themselves behind hand in what remained to be performed.” The skin was
taken off, and the fat found to be in several places six inches deep.
When divided into two parts it formed a load for two persons, and the
fleshy portions were as much as four men could carry. In all, the
carcass must have exceeded 500 pounds weight. As soon as they had
reached the lodge, the head was adorned with various trinkets, and laid
upon a scaffold, with a large quantity of tobacco near the nose; and
sundry other ceremonies were gone through in the course of the ensuing
morning, after which they made a feast of the flesh. According to this
author it is only the female bear that makes her lodging in the upper
parts of trees,—an instinctive practice, by which her future young are
secured from the attacks of wolves and other carnivorous animals. She
brings forth in the winter season, and remains in her lodge till the
cubs have acquired some strength. The male is said always to lodge in
the ground, under the roots of trees.
In the latitude of 65° the winter sleep of the bear continues from the
beginning of October to the first or second week of May; but on the
northern shore of Lake Huron, the period is shorter by two or three
months. In very severe winters, numbers of them have been observed
entering the United States from the northward, all extremely lean, and
accompanied by scarcely any females. Now it is well known that bears
never retire to their winter dens until they have acquired a thick
coating of fat, and that in remote districts they couple in September,
when in good condition from feeding on the wild berries, which are at
that time mature and abundant. The females then retire at once to their
holes, concealing themselves so carefully that even “the lyncean eye of
an Indian hunter very rarely detects them;” but the males, exhausted by
the pursuit of their mates, require ten or twelve days to recover their
lost fat. “An unusually early winter will, it is evident, operate most
severely on the males, by preventing them from fattening a second time;
hence their migrations at such times to more southerly districts.” It is
an error, however, to suppose, as many do, that the black bears
generally abandon the northern districts on the approach of winter, the
quantity of skins, as Dr. Richardson observes, which are procured during
that season in all parts of the fur countries being a sufficient proof
to the contrary. The females bring forth about the beginning of January,
and are supposed to carry for about fifteen or sixteen weeks. The number
of cubs varies from one to five, according to the age of the mother, who
begins to bear long before she has attained her full dimensions.
CHAP. VI.
IMPRESSIONS OF CANADA, NIAGARA, THE ST. LAWRENCE, ETC. UPON EMIGRANT
SETTLERS.
* * * * *
The Falls of Niagara impress travellers very differently. Most persons,
having heard of this wonder of the world from their childhood, have
aggrandized their imagination of its appearance in proportion with the
growth of their minds, and visit Niagara, at last, with the expectation
of seeing an ocean poured from the height of the clouds. A very graphic
and sketchy account of past impressions at the Falls is given by a
traveller, whose book is less known than it deserves; and we quote from
him, quite sure that his description will be new to the reader. “I first
visited these celebrated Falls,” he says, “in the month of September—a
season of the year which, in America, is peculiarly pleasant. The
violent heats have then considerably abated; the musquito, satiated with
human blood, has given rest to his proboscis; and man, free from the
irritating bite of innumerable tormenting insects, and from the
scorching heat of an almost insupportable sun, enjoys an agreeable
respite, and ranges through the country in quiet and comfort. Until I
arrived within a mile of the Falls, the sky was perfectly clear, the sun
shone with his wonted splendour, and the atmosphere was remarkably dry
and uncommonly lucid. But no sooner had I approached their immediate
vicinity, than a sudden and singular change took place in the whole
aspect of nature. The earth, before parched and immovable, became damp
and tremulous; and the sky, till then unsullied by a single cloud,
assumed a frowning, dark, and portentous appearance. The atmosphere,
previously dry and rarefied, now presented a dense and humid visage; and
my fancy, unreined by my reason transported me into a world essentially
different from that in which, a few minutes before, I ‘lived, and moved,
and had my being.’
“Still, however, I pursued my course, and at length gained the summit of
the craggy hills which flank this noble river. My increased elevation
did not contribute to dissipate the preconceived delusion, and I still
felt inclined to doubt of my own or the world’s identity. Mountains of
water, belching forth the most appalling sounds—globes of foam, boiling
with rage—rainbows, embracing within their numerous and splendid arches
a surprising variety of newly-formed impending clouds—rocks, boldly
projecting over the tumultuous abyss—and spray-covered forests,
decorated with pearly drops, now rendered more brilliant than crystal by
the reflected rays of the setting sun, and now blown into feathery
streams by sudden gusts of the impetuous wind;—these were some of the
most striking features of the gorgeous scenery by which I was
surrounded. Long did I luxuriate in pleasing contemplation, admiring its
peculiar grandeur; and still did I find myself lingering amidst these
stupendous and matchless displays of creative excellence, until the sun,
wearied with shedding his beams on the transatlantic wilds, had retired,
in all his glory, ‘to rove o’r other lands, and give to other men the
kindest boon of heaven.’
“For the first time of my life did I regret the shortness of a September
day. But my regret soon ceased; for ere night had completely drawn her
sable mantle across the objects of my admiration, over which I still
lingered, a glorious moon, enshrouded in golden robes, kindly lent me
the aid of her beauteous lustre, and quickly diffused through every part
of the landscape new features of loveliness, giving it a character far
more soft and interesting than that with which proud day had invested
it. The stupendous and magnificent machinery of nature, which had
recently bound me in abstraction, was now divested of many of its
peculiar charms. A perfect calm succeeded. The forests appeared sunk in
deep repose. The winds had subsided. The green leaves, no longer
agitated by the breeze, ceased their rustling. Not a cloud floated along
the face of heaven. Every thing around and above seemed to have found
‘Tir’d nature’s sweet restorer, balmy sleep.’
All was still, except the wakeful cataracts that roared with their
wonted violence, and disturbed the basin which groaned beneath the
undiminished burden. Never was there a finer contrast than that between
the noise of the water and the stillness of the air; the golden
effulgence of the rushing flood, and the impenetrable shades of the
surrounding forests; the blackness of the frightful gulf, down which the
waves, with unabating force, are precipitated in crashing confusion, and
the light and cheering face of the spangled heavens, over which the
crescent moon was sailing with modest pride and conscious dignity.
“Sick and insensible must be the soul that could behold with
indifference an exhibition so fine, so varied, so replete with all that
is calculated to please the eye, to arouse the mind, and, in a word, to
raise the whole man above the vulgar level of existence, and make him
sensible, that while he thus contrasts the piccuresque scenery of the
earth with the inimitable grandeur of the heavens, he is standing, as it
were, in the immediate presence of that Deity who ‘measured the waters
in the hollow of his hand, and meted out the heavens with a span’—to
whom he is indebted for all he sees, and all he feels—by whose almighty
power and wisdom the rivers had their appointed sources and obtained
leave to flow, and from whose hands the mountains first received their
appropriate bulk and due conformation.
“I cannot convey to you any idea of the poverty of language that is felt
when one attempts to describe such a combination of grand and uncommon
objects, among which is found every thing essential to constitute the
romantic, the terrific, the picturesque, and the sublime. All that is
awfully grand here occupies a prominent station; and every part is so
tastefully arranged as to make the deepest impression upon beholders,
and to proclaim, in language not less loud than the ‘music of the
spheres,’
The hand that made us is divine.
“The country in which Lake Erie lies is elevated nearly 300 feet above
that which surrounds Ontario. The extensive slope, or mountain, as it is
called, which divides the lower country from the upper, is, in many
places, nearly perpendicular. It commences on the northern side of Lake
Ontario, and runs thence round its north-western point, until it is
intersected by the road which leads from York to Amherstburgh. It
afterwards pursues an eastern direction, and finally embanks the strait
or river of Niagara.
“Persons who visit the Falls generally stop at an adjacent
village—(this account was written some twelve or fifteen years
ago),—consisting of about a dozen houses, and two very excellent
hotels, in which as good accommodation may be found as in any other part
of the country. From the balcony of that which is styled the ‘Niagara
Falls’ Pavilion,’ there is a very fine view of the Horse-shoe Fall, and
of the island which bisects the river. From the same house there is a
difficult foot-path, which leads down a very steep bank to the edge of
the river, immediately adjoining the place where the Table Rock formerly
stood. It must also be recollected that the river issues from Lake Erie
about twenty miles above the Falls, and, until it arrives within three
miles of them, runs with a smooth current and an undisturbed surface.
The bed of the stream then becomes rocky; and the water is so violently
agitated by passing down successive rapids, that a person of the
strongest nerves, standing on the shore, cannot without difficulty
refrain from shuddering at the sight.
“Notwithstanding the rapidity of the current, its violence is displayed
only on each side of the river, the middle remaining sufficiently smooth
to admit of boats passing down to the island that separates the river
into two branches, before the waters are dashed down the precipice which
forms the Fall. As the current approaches this island, it seems to run
with redoubled velocity. It is impossible to conceive any thing equal to
the force and swiftness of its progress to the ledge of rocks, over
which it is propelled, till it impetuously tumbles into the bed of the
river beneath, with a noise louder than thunder. When the waters fall
into the deep basin, they rebound into the air in immense spherical
figures, white as snow and sparkling as diamonds. These figures, after
rising, and, apparently, remaining stationary for a moment, explode at
the top, and emit columns of spray to an astonishing height. They then
subside, and are succeeded by others, which appear and disappear in the
same manner.