STRAWBERRIES--CANADIAN WILD FRUITS--WILD RASPBERRIES--THE HUNTER AND THE
LOST CHILD--CRANBERRIES-CRANBERRY MARSHES--NUTS.
One day Lady Mary's nurse brought her a small Indian basket, filled with
ripe red strawberries.
"Nurse, where did you get these nice strawberries?" said the little girl,
peeping beneath the fresh leaves with which they were covered. "I bought
them from a little Indian squaw, in the street; she had brought them from a
wooded meadow, some miles off, my lady. They are very fine; see, they are
as large as those that the gardener sent in yesterday from the
forcing-house, and these wild ones have grown without any pains having been
bestowed upon them."
"I did not think, nurse, that wild strawberries could have been so fine
as these; may I taste them?"
Mrs. Frazer said she might. "These are not so large, so red, or so sweet
as some that I have gathered when I lived at home with my father," said
the nurse. "I have seen acres and acres of strawberries, as large as the
early scarlet that are sold so high in the market, on the Rice Lake
plains. When the farmers have ploughed a fallow on the Rice Lake plains,
the following summer it will be covered with a crop of the finest
strawberries. I have gathered pailsful day after day; these, however, have
been partly cultivated by the plough breaking up the sod; but they seem as
if sown by the hand of nature. These fruits, and many sorts of flowers,
appear on the new soil that were never seen there before. After a fallow
has been chopped, logged, and burnt, if it be left for a few years, trees,
shrubs and plants will cover it, unlike those that grew there before."
"That is curious," said the child. "Does God sow the seeds in the new
ground?"
"My lady, no doubt they come from Him; for He openeth his hand, and
filleth all things living with plenteousness. My father, who thought a
great deal on these subjects, said that the seeds of many plants may fall
upon the earth, and yet none of them take root till the soil be favourable
for their growth. It may be that these seeds had lain for years, preserved
in the earth, till the forest was cleared away, and the sun, air, and rain
caused them to spring up. Or the earth may still bring forth the herb of
the field, after its kind, as in the day of the creation; but whether it
be so or not, we must bless the Lord for his goodness and for the
blessings that He giveth us at all times."
"Are there many sorts of wild fruits fit to eat, nurse, in this country?
Please, will you tell me all that you know about them?"
"There are so many, Lady Mary, that I am afraid I shall weary you before
I have told you half of them."
"Nurse, I shall not be tired, for I like to hear about fruits and flowers
very much; and my dear mamma likes you to tell me all you know about the
plants, trees, birds and beasts of Canada."
"Besides many sorts of strawberries, there are wild currants, both black
and red, and many kinds of wild gooseberries," said Mrs. Frazer: "some
grow on wastes by the roadside, in dry soil, others in swamps; but most
gooseberries are covered with thorns, which grow not only on the wood, but
on the berries themselves."
"I would not eat those disagreeable, thorny gooseberries; they would
prick my tongue," said the little girl.
"They cannot be eaten without first being scalded. The settlers' wives
contrive to make good pies and preserves with them by first scalding the
fruit and then rubbing it between coarse linen cloths; I have heard these
tarts called thornberry pies, which, I think, was a good name for them.
When emigrants first come to Canada, and clear the backwoods, they have
little time to make nice fruit-gardens for themselves, and they are glad
to gather the wild berries that grow in the woods and swamps to make tarts
and preserves, so that they do not even despise the thorny gooseberries or
the wild black currants. Some swamp-gooseberries, however, are quite
smooth, of a dark red colour, but small, and they are very nice when ripe.
The blossoms of the wild currants are very beautiful, of a pale yellowish
green, and hang down in long, graceful branches; the fruit is harsh, but
makes wholesome preserves: but there are thorny currants as well as thorny
gooseberries; these have long, weak, trailing branches; the berries are
small, covered with stiff bristles, and of a pale red colour. They are not
wholesome; I have seen people made very ill by eating them; I have heard
even of their dying in consequence of having done so."
"I am sure, nurse, I will not eat those wild currants," said Lady Mary;
"I am glad you have told me about their being poisonous."
"This sort is not often met with, my dear; and these berries, though they
are not good for man, doubtless give nourishment to some of the wild
creatures that seek their food from God, and we have enough dainties, and
to spare, without them.
"The red raspberry is one of the most common and the most useful to us of
the wild fruits. It grows in abundance all over the country, by the
roadside, in the half-opened woods, on upturned roots, or in old neglected
clearings; there is no place so wild but it will grow, wherever its roots
can find a crevice. With maple sugar, the farmers' wives never need lack a
tart, nor a dish of fruit and cream. The poor Irish emigrants' children go
out and gather pailsful, which they carry to the towns and villages to
sell. The birds, too, live upon the fruit, and, flying away with it to
distant places, help to sow the seed. A great many small animals eat the
ripe raspberry, for even the racoon and great black bear come in for their
share."
"The black bears! Oh, nurse, oh, Mrs. Frazer!" exclaimed Lady Mary, in
great astonishment. "What! do bears eat raspberries?"
"Yes, indeed, my lady, they do. Bears are fond of all ripe fruits. The
bear resembles the hog in all its tastes very closely; both in their
wild state will eat flesh, grain, fruit, and roots. There is a small red
berry in the woods that is known by the name of the bear-berry,
[Transcriber's Note: Lengthy footnote moved to end of chapter.] of which
they say the young bears are particularly fond."
"I should be afraid of going to gather raspberries, nurse, for fear of
the bears coming to eat them too."
"The hunters know that the bears are partial to this fruit, and often
seek them in large thickets, where they grow. A young gentleman, Lady
Mary, once went out shooting game, in the province of New Brunswick, in
the month of July, when the weather was warm, and there were plenty of
wild berries ripe. He had been out for many hours, and at last found
himself on the banks of a creek. But the bridge he had been use to cross
was gone, having been swept away by heavy rains in the spring. Passing on
a little higher up, he saw an old clearing full of bushes; and knowing
that wild animals were often to be met in such spots, he determined to
cross over and try his luck for a bear, a racoon, or a young fawn. Not far
from the spot, he saw a large fallen swamp elm-tree, which made a capital
bridge. Just as he was preparing to cross, he heard the sound of footsteps
on the dry crackling sticks, and saw a movement among the raspberry
bushes; his finger was on the lock of his rifle in an instant, for he
thought it must be a bear or a deer; but just as he was about to fire, he
saw a small, thin, brown hand, all red and stained from the juice of the
ripe berries, reaching down a branch of the fruit; his very heart leaped
within him with fright, for in another moment he would have shot the poor
little child that, with wan, wasted face, was looking at him from between
the raspberry bushes. It was a little girl, about as old as you are, Lady
Mary. She was without hat or shoes, and her clothes were all in tatters;
her hands and neck were quite brown and sun-burnt. She seemed frightened
at first, and would have hid herself, had not the stranger called out
gently to her to stay, and not to be afraid; and then he hurried over the
log bridge, and asked her who she was, and where she lived. And she said
'she did not live anywhere, for she was lost.' She could not tell how many
days, but she thought she had been seven nights out in the woods. She had
been sent to take some dinner to her father, who was at work in the
forest; but had missed the path, and gone on a cattle track, and did not
find her mistake until it was too late; when she became frightened, and
tried to get back, but only lost herself deeper in the woods. The first
night she wrapped her frock about her head, and lay down beneath the
shelter of a great upturned root. She had eaten but little of the food she
had in the basket that day, for it lasted her nearly two; after it was
gone, she chewed some leaves, till she came to the raspberry clearing, and
got berries of several kinds, and plenty of water to drink from the creek.
One night, she said, she was awakened by a heavy tramping near her, and
looking up in the moonlight, saw two great black beasts, which she thought
were her father's oxen, and so she sat up and called, 'Buck,' 'Bright,'--
for these were their names,--but they had no bells, and looked like two
great shaggy black dogs; they stood on their hind legs upright, and looked
at her, but went away. These animals were bears, but the child did not
know that, and she said she felt no fear--for she said her prayers every
night before she lay down to sleep, and she knew that God would take care
of her, both sleeping and waking." [Footnote: The facts of this story I
met with, many years ago, in a provincial paper. They afterwards appeared
in a Canadian sketch, in Chambers' Journal, contributed by me in 1838.]
"And did the hunter take her home?" asked Lady Mary, who was much
interested in the story.
"Yes, my dear, he did. Finding that the poor little girl was very weak,
the young man took her on his back,--fortunately he happened to have a
little wine in a flask, and a bit of dry biscuit in his knapsack, and this
greatly revived the little creature; sometimes she ran by his side, while
holding by his coat, talking to her new friend, seemingly quite happy and
cheerful, bidding him not to be afraid even if they had to pass another
night in the wood; but just as the sun was setting, they came out of the
dark forest into an open clearing.
"It was not the child's home, but a farm belonging to a miller who knew
her father, and had been in search of her for several days; and he and his
wife were very glad when they saw the lost child, and gladly showed her
preserver the way; and they rejoiced much when the poor little girl was
restored safe and well to her sorrowing parents."
"Nurse," said Lady Mary, "I am so glad the good hunter found the little
girl. I must tell my own dear mamma that nice story. How sorry my mamma
and papa would be to lose me in the woods."
The nurse smiled, and said, "My dear lady, there is no fear of such an
accident happening to you. You are not exposed to the same trials and
dangers as the children of poor emigrants; therefore, you must be very
grateful to God, and do all you can to serve and please Him; and when you
are able, be kind and good to those who are not as well off as you are."
"Are there any other wild fruits, nurse, besides raspberries and
strawberries, and currants and gooseberries?"
"Yes, my dear lady, a great many more. We will begin with wild plums:
these we often preserve; and when the trees are planted in gardens, and
taken care of, the fruit is very good to eat. The wild cherries are not
very nice; but the bark of the black cherry is good for agues and low
fevers. The choke-cherry is very beautiful to look at, but hurts the
throat, closing it up if many are eaten, and making it quite sore. The
huckleberry is a sweet, dark blue berry, that grows on a very delicate low
shrub, the blossoms are very pretty, pale pink or greenish white bells,
the fruit is very wholesome; it grows on light dry ground, on those parts
of the country that are called plains in Canada. The settlers' children go
out in parties, and gather great quantities, either to eat or dry for
winter use. These berries are a great blessing to every one, besides
forming abundant food for the broods of young quails and partridges;
squirrels, too, of every kind eat them. There are blackberries also, Lady
Mary; and some people call them thimbleberries."
"Nurse, I have heard mamma talk about blackberries."
"The Canadian blackberries are not so sweet, I am told, my lady, as those
at home, though they are very rich and nice tasted; neither do they grow
so high. Then there are high bush cranberries, and low bush cranberries.
The first grow on a tall bush, and the fruit has a fine appearance,
hanging in large bunches of light scarlet, among the dark green leaves;
but they are very, very sour, and take a great deal of sugar to sweeten
them. The low bush cranberries grow on a slender trailing plant; the
blossom is very pretty, and the fruit about the size of a common
gooseberry, of a dark purplish red, very smooth and shining; the seeds are
minute, and lie in the white pulp within the skin; this berry is not nice
till it is cooked with sugar. There is a large cranberry marsh somewhere
at the back of Kingston, where vast quantities grow. I heard a young
gentleman say that he passed over this tract when he was hunting, while
the snow was on the ground, and that the red juice of the dropped berries
dyed the snow crimson beneath his feet. The Indians go every year to a
small lake called Buckhorn Lake, many miles up the river Otonabee, in the
Upper Province, to gather cranberries, which they sell to the settlers in
the towns and villages, or trade away for pork, flour, and clothes. The
cranberries, when spread out on a dry floor, will keep fresh and good for
a long time. Great quantities of cranberries are brought to England from
Russia, Norway, and Lapland, in barrels, or large earthern jars, filled
with brine; but the fruit thus roughly preserved must be drained, and
washed many times, and stirred with sugar, before it can be put into
tarts, or it would be salt and bitter. I will boil some cranberries with
sugar, that you may taste them; for they are very wholesome."
Lady Mary said she should like to have some in her own garden.
"The cranberry requires a particular kind of soil, not usually found in
gardens, my dear lady; for as the cranberry marshes are often covered with
water in the spring, I suppose they need a damp, cool soil, near lakes or
rivers; perhaps sand, too, may be good for them. But we can plant some
berries, and water them well; in a light soil they may grow, and bear
fruit, but I am not sure that they will do so. Besides these fruits, there
are many others, that are little used by men, but are of great service as
food to the birds and small animals. There are many kinds of nuts, too--
filberts, with rough prickly husks, walnuts, butternuts, and hickory-nuts;
these last are large trees, the nuts of which are very nice to eat, and
the wood very fine for cabinet-work, and for firewood; the bark is used
for dyeing. Now, my dear, I think you must be quite tired with hearing so
much about Canadian fruits."
Lady Mary said she was glad to learn that there were so many good things
in Canada, for she heard a lady say to her mamma, that it was an ugly
country, with nothing good or pretty in it.
"There is something good and pretty to be found everywhere, my dear
child, if people will but open their eyes to see it, and their hearts to
enjoy the good things that God has so mercifully spread abroad for us and
all his creatures to enjoy. But Canada is really a fine country, and is
fast becoming a great one."
[Relocated Footnote: Arbutus ursursi--"Kinnikinnick," Indian name.
There is a story about a bear and an Indian hunter, which will show how
bears eat berries. It is from the Journal of Peter Jacobs, the Indian
Missionary:--
"At sunrise, next morning," he says, "we tried to land, but the water was
so full of shoals, we could not without wading a great distance.
"The beach before us was of bright sand, and the sun was about, [Footnote:
We find some curious expressions in this Journal, for Peter Jacobs is an
Indian, writing not his own, but a foreign language.] when I saw an object
moving on the shore; it appeared to be a man, and seemed to be making
signals of distress. We were all weary and hungry, but thinking it was a
fellow-creature in distress, we pulled towards him. Judge of our surprise
when the stranger proved to be an enormous bear.
"He was seated on his hams, and what we thought his signals were his
raising himself on his hind legs to pull down the berries from a high
bush, and, with his paws full sitting down again to eat them at his
leisure.
"Thus he continued daintily enjoying his ripe fruit in the posture some
lapdogs are taught to assume while eating. On we pulled, and forgot our
hunger and weariness; the bear still continued breakfasting.
"We got as close on shore as the shoals would permit, and John, (one of
the Indians,) taking my double-barrelled gun, leaped into the water, gun
in hand, and gained the beach. Some dead brushwood hid the bear from
John's sight, but from the canoe we could see both John and the bear.
"The bear now discovered us, and advanced towards us; and John, not
seeing him for the bush, ran along the beach towards him. The weariness
from pulling all night, and having eaten no food, made me lose my presence
of mind, for I now remembered that the gun was only loaded with duck-shot,
and you might as well meet a bear with a gun loaded with peas.
"John was in danger, and we strained at our paddles to get to his
assistance; but as the bear was a very large one, and as we had no other
firearms, we should have been but poor helps to John in the hug of a
wounded bear. The bear was at the other side of the brush-heap: John heard
the dry branches cracking, and he dodged into a hollow under a bush. The
bear passed, and was coursing along the sand, but as he passed by where
John lay, bang went the gun.--The bear was struck.
"We saw him leap through the smoke to the very spot where we had last seen
John. We held our breath; but instead of the cry of agony we expected to
hear from John, bang went the gun again--John is not yet caught. Our canoe
rushed through the water.--We might yet be in time; but my paddle fell from
my hand with joy as I saw John pop his head above the bush, and with a
shout point to the side of the log on which he stood, 'There he lies, dead
enough.' We were thankful indeed to our Great Preserver."--_Peter Jacob's
Journal._
Though fruit and vegetables seem to be the natural food of the bear, they
also devour flesh, and even fish,--a fact of which the good Indian
Missionary assures us; and that being new to my young readers, I shall
give them in his own words:--
"A few evenings after we left the 'Rock,' while the men were before me
'tracking,' (towing the canoe,) by pulling her along by a rope from the
shore, I observed behind a rock in the river, what I took to be a black
fox. I stole upon it as quietly as possible, hoping to get a shot, but the
animal saw me, and waded to the shore. It turned out to be a young bear
fishing. The bear is a great fisherman. His mode of fishing is very
curious. He wades into a current, and seating himself upright on his hams,
lets the water come about up to his shoulders; he patiently waits until the
little fishes come along and rub themselves against his sides, he seizes
them instantly, gives them a nip, and with his left paw tosses them over
his shoulder to the shore. His left paw is always the one used for tossing
ashore the produce of his fishing. Feeling is the sense of which Bruin
makes use here, not sight.
"The Indians of that part say that the bear catches sturgeon when spawning
in the shoal-water; but the only fish that I know of their catching, is the
sucker: of these, in the months of April and May, the bear makes his daily
breakfast and supper, devouring about thirty or forty at a meal. As soon as
he has caught a sufficient number, he wades ashore, and regales himself on
the best morsels, which are the thick of the neck, behind the gills. The
Indians often shoot him when thus engaged."--Peter Jacob's Journal, p. 46_]