Of the many singular characters which we have met with in our various
travels, we remember none with more pleasure, and even wonder, than the
hero of this chapter. In company with three friends, we were upon a
fishing cruise along the northern shore of the river St. Lawrence, above
the Saguenay, and having on a certain afternoon steered our little craft
into a cove at the mouth of a brook, for the purpose of obtaining fresh
water, we were surprised to find ourselves in the immediate neighborhood
of a rude but comfortable log cabin. Curiosity, as a matter of course,
led us to visit the cabin, and introduce ourselves to the proprietor. We
did so, and were not only warmly welcomed, but were invited to tarry
with our new acquaintance until the next day, and had we not accepted
the invitation, the following particulars would not now be made known to
the public.
The individual under consideration was a Frenchman, and a native of
Quebec. He was above the medium height, about forty years of age,
graceful in his manners, active in mind and body, and altogether just
the character to rivet the attention of the most casual observer. He was
wholly ignorant of the world, having never been out of his native city,
excepting when he took up his abode in this out-of-the-way corner of the
country, where, at the time we met with him, he had been secluded for
nearly twenty years. He had a wife (but no children) who was as much
like himself in appearance and character as nature could well allow her
to be. He was totally illiterate, and yet possessed an attachment to the
unwritten science of botany which was truly remarkable. His cabin had
only two lower rooms and one garret, and yet the best of the three was
exclusively appropriated to a collection of plants, gathered from the
neighboring hills and mountains, and numbering several hundred
varieties, together with large moose horns, furs, and other forest
curiosities. He knew not the generic name of a single specimen, and yet
he would expatiate upon their beauty in the most interesting manner,
showing that he loved them with intense affection. To the hunting and
cultivation of plants he told us he was in the habit of devoting more
than half of his time, whereupon we asked him from what source he
obtained his living. He informed us that having inherited the large
tract of land upon which he resided, he had come here for the purpose of
getting a living out of _that_. On casting our eyes about, and finding
nothing for them to rest upon but mountains of solid rock, where even
pine trees hardly had the courage to grow, we thought his reply somewhat
mysterious. He smiled at our perplexity, and then told us that he had
two or three profitable salmon fishing grounds within a mile of his
house, which were rented out to Quebec fishermen, and yielded him all
the necessaries of life, and that he obtained his fresh meats with his
own hands from the forest.
Had we been inclined to doubt any of the assertions of our friend in
regard to his good living, all such doubts would have been most
assuredly dispelled by what we witnessed and enjoyed before closing our
eyes on the night in question. Having taken us to the fishing ground
lying nearest to his cabin, for the purpose of letting us see how the
salmon were taken in the circular set nets (into which they swam on
their way up stream when the tide was high, and from which they were
taken by the hundred when the tide was low), he picked out a splendid
twenty pound fish, and piloted us back again to his dwelling. He then
excused himself from further waiting upon us, and, begging us to amuse
ourselves by _examining his plants_, or doing anything else we pleased,
he informed us that he must assist his wife in preparing our supper. We
bowed our most willing assent, and as the sun was near his setting, we
ascended a neighboring knoll for the purpose of enjoying the extensive
prospect which presented itself to view.
We were looking towards the south, and across that portion of the noble
St. Lawrence where it is without an island, and its shores are
twenty-five miles apart. The retinue of clouds around the setting sun
were brilliant to a marvelous degree, and were distinctly mirrored on
the tranquil bosom of the superb river. In the distance we could barely
discover the southern shore, forming a long narrow line of purple; about
a dozen miles to the eastward one solitary ship lay floating at the
mercy of the tide, and in the foreground was the cabin of our
entertainer, partly hidden from our view by a few stunted trees, and
apparently hemmed in by inaccessible mountains, while before the cabin
lay extended some half dozen immense mongrel dogs, which were the only
living creatures, besides ourselves, tending to animate the lonely
scene. Silently communing with our own hearts, we watched with peculiar
interest the coming forth, one after another, of the beautiful stars,
and we could not but think of our distant homes, and of the ties which
bound us to the absent and loved. One moment more, and we heard a loud
hallo, which came from the lungs of our Canadian friend, who informed us
that supper was ready, whereupon we descended to the cabin at a pace
bordering upon a run.
And such a supper! Our host presided, and while two of his guests were
seated on either side, the hostess occupied the opposite end of the
table from her husband. She could not speak a word of English, and of
course uttered all her apologies in French; and though the husband
pretended to talk English, we begged him to remember that his guests all
understood French, and that he had better converse as nature dictated.
No objections were made, and we proceeded to business. The table was
literally loaded; and, whilst the matron poured out a capital cup of
coffee, the host overwhelmed the plates of his guests with various kinds
of meat, most of which were fried or broiled almost to a crisp. We gave
vent to our curiosity by inquiring the names of the dishes we were
eating. From this moment, until the truly delicious feast was ended, the
talking was all performed by the Canadian botanist, and the substance of
his remarks may be stated as follows:
“That meat in the blue platter, gentlemen, was cut from the hind
quarters of the biggest _black bear_ ever seen among the mountains. He
weighed over four hundred pounds, and was as savage as he was fat and
big. I was climbing along the edge of a hill, about a week ago, for the
purpose of securing a small yellow flower that I had discovered hanging
from a rock, when the bear in question came running out of the mouth of
his den, and saluting me with a long scratch on the back, I gave him a
stab in the belly, and tumbled myself down the offset in the most hasty
manner imaginable. I always take my gun with me when I go into the
woods, and when I reached the bottom of the hill I looked out for the
bear, and, discovering him on a stump some twenty yards off, I gave him
a shot, and he made at me with the fires of revenge and rage in his eye.
I climbed up a small tree, and while the rascal made an unsuccessful
attempt to follow me, I reloaded my gun and sent another charge directly
into his mouth, which gave him a bad cough, and in a short time he
staggered a few paces from the tree and fell to the ground quite dead.
_I then went back to the cliff to secure my yellow flower_, and during
that afternoon, by the aid of my pony, dragged the bear to my cabin.
“In that dish, with a piece broken from the edge, gentlemen, you have a
mixture of _moose tongue_, _moose lip_, and _moose brains_. I spent
nearly a month moose-hunting, last winter, in company with a couple of
Indians, and though the snow was deep, the crust hard, our snowshoes in
good order, our dogs brave and strong, and moose were numerous, we only
killed about sixteen. I only brought home the heads (while the Indians
were satisfied with the skins and haunches), but I was more than paid
for all my trouble, in the way of hard traveling and cold sleeping, for
in one of the moose-yards that we visited _I found a specimen of pine
which I had never seen before_. It was very soft and beautiful, and I
think the book-men of England would give a good deal of money if they
could have it in their great gardens.
“As to that meat in the white dish, which you all seem to eat with such
a relish, I think you will be surprised to learn that it is nothing but
_beaver’s tail_. To my taste it is the sweetest meat in the world, and I
am only sorry that this valuable animal is becoming so very scarce in
this section of country. My present stock of beaver’s tail came from the
shore of Hudson’s Bay, and, though I bought it of an Indian, I had to
pay him as much for the tails as the fur company paid him for the skins
of his animals. I never trapped for beaver myself, but I have for otter,
and often have great sport in killing seals, which are very abundant in
the St. Lawrence, and afford to the Indians pretty good food during the
hard winters. The only thing that I have against the beaver is, that he
has a fashion, I am told, _of cutting down for his house such beautiful
trees as the birch, mulberry, willow, and poplar before they are half
grown_.
“As to the salmon upon which you have been feasting, gentlemen, you know
as much about that particular individual as I do, since you saw him
while yet in his native element. The men who hire my fishing grounds pay
me so much for every fish they take, and sell them at a great profit in
Quebec and even in Montreal. From the fisheries on this shore are the
people of Canada exclusively supplied with the salmon, and when we have
a good season our merchants manage to send over to the United States, in
a smoked condition, a good many thousand. As to taking them with those
pretty little flies, which you, gentlemen, always carry in your
pocket-books, I never could understand how you manage to deceive so
sensible a fish as the salmon. Of one thing I am certain: if you expect
to take any of the salmon in this region with those little lines and
hooks, you will be much mistaken. You will have to go down to the
Saguenay, where I am told the fish do not know any better than to be
deceived by your cunning arts. But, if I was ever to follow fishing as
you do, it seems to me that instead of red, yellow, and blue feathers, I
should cover my hooks _with the bright berries and buds which you may
find upon some trees even during the fishing season_.”
This last remark of our host convinced us that he was indeed possessed
with a ruling passion, and we of course gratified ourselves by humoring
him to the length of our patience. He not only monopolized the
conversation during supper, but he did most of the talking until
bed-time. We spent the night under his roof, sleeping upon bear skins,
spread on the floor; and, after an early breakfast, we bade him adieu,
and pursued our course down the St. Lawrence.