CAMPING IN THE BUSH.
'Well!' exclaimed Robert Wynn, 'here is my estate; and neither pond, nor
swamp, nor yet spring creek do I behold.'
He looked again at the landmark--an elm tree at the junction of the lot
line and the concession road, which bore the numbers of each, 'Nine,
Fifteen,' in very legible figures on opposite sides. A 'blaze' had been
made by chopping away a slice of the bark with an axe about three feet
from the ground, and on the white space the numbers were marked by the
surveyor. All roads through the forest, and all farm allotments, are
first outlined in this way, before the chopper sets to work.
The new townships in Upper Canada are laid out in parallel lines, running
nearly east and west, sixty-six chains apart, and sixty-six feet in
width, which are termed concession lines, being conceded by Government
as road allowances. These lands thus enclosed are subdivided into lots
of two hundred acres by other lines, which strike the concession roads
at right angles every thirty chains; and every fifth of these lot lines
is also a cross-road. We have all looked at maps of the country, and
wondered at the sort of chess-board counties which prevail in the back
settlements: the same system of parallelograms extends to the farms.
Robert's face was a little rueful. Twenty yards in any direction he
could not see for the overpowering bush, except along the line of road
darkened with endless forest. The waggon was being unpacked, for the
driver sturdily declared that his agreement had been only to bring them
as far as this post on the concession: he must go back to the 'Corner'
that evening, on his way home.
'An' is it on the road ye'll lave the masther's things?' remonstrated
Andy.
'I guess we han't no masters here, Pat,' was the reply; 'but if you see
anywar else to stow the traps, I ain't partic'ler.' And he stolidly
continued unloading.
'Come,' said the cheery voice of Sam Holt, 'we will have daylight enough
to explore the lot, and select a site for a camp. I think I can discover
the tops of cedars over the hardwood trees here. The boxes will take
care of themselves, unless a squirrel takes into his head to inspect
them. Let's follow the concession line along westward first.'
Callaghan stayed by the luggage, feeling by no means sure of its safety,
and saw the rest of the party gradually receding among the trees, with
sensations akin to those of a sailor on a desert island. Sitting upon
the tool-chest, like an item of property saved from a wreck, Andy looked
from the base to the summit of the huge walls of forest that encompassed
him, and along the canal of sky overhead, till his countenance had
fallen to zero.
The shipwrecked sensation had gone farther; Mr. Holt saw it lurking in
other faces, and forthwith found all advantages possible in the lot. The
soil was sure to be the best: he could tell by the timber. Its height
proved the depth of earth. When the trees grew shorter, a hidden
treasure of limestone flag lay beneath the surface, useful for drains
and building. And even the entangled cedar swamp was most desirable, as
furnishing the best wood for rail-fences and logs for a house.
But nothing could look more unpromising. Blackish pools of water
alternated with a network of massive roots all over the soil, underneath
broad evergreen branches; trunks of trees leaned in every direction, as
if top-heavy. Wilder confusion of thicket could not be conceived. 'The
cedars troublesome! I should think so,' groaned their owner.
'This is the worst bit,' acknowledged Sam. 'Now, if we could see it, the
lake is down yonder; perhaps if we strike a diagonal across the lot, we
may come to some rising ground.' With the pocket compass for guide they
left the blazed line, which they had followed hitherto. After a short
distance the bush began to thin, and the forest twilight brightened.
'A beaver meadow!' exclaimed Sam Holt, who was foremost. Green as emerald,
the small semicircular patch of grass lay at the foot of gentle slopes,
as if it had once been a lakelet itself. 'Two acres ready cleared, with
the finest dairy grass only waiting to be eaten,' continued encouraging
Sam. 'And the clearing on the hill will command the best view in the
township; there's the site for your house, Wynn. Altogether you've had
rare luck in this lot.'
'But why is that green flat called a _beaver_ meadow?' asked Robert.
'Do you see the creek running alongside? No, you can't for the underbrush;
but it's there all the same. Well, they say that long ago beavers dammed
up the current in such places as this with clay and brushwood, so that
the water spread over all level spaces near; and when the Indians and
French were at war, the red men cut away the dams and killed the beavers
wholesale to spite their enemies. You're to take that just as an _on
dit_, recollect.'
'And is all that verdure an appearance or a reality?'
'Something of both. I don't say but you will occasionally find it
treacherous footing, needing drainage to be comfortable. See! there's
the pond at last.'
They had been climbing out of the denser woods, among a younger growth
on the face of the slope; and when they turned, the sheet of water was
partially visible over the sunken cedar swamp.
'A pond!' exclaimed Arthur; 'why, it must be three miles across to those
limestone cliffs. What pretty islets! Such endless varieties of wood and
water!'
'I think we Americans are rather given to the diminutive style of
parlance,' quoth Mr. Holt. 'We have some justification in the colossal
proportion of all the features of nature around us. What is this pretty
lake but a mere pool, compared with our Erie and Superior?'
[Illustration: PREPARING FOR THE FIRST NIGHT IN THE BUSH.]
'It is one of a chain,' remarked Robert, taking from his breast pocket
a map of the district, which had his own farm heavily scored in red
ink. Often had he contemplated that outline of the _terra incognita_
on which he now trod, and longed for the knowledge he now possessed,
which, after its manner, had brought him both good and evil. Like balls
threaded on a cord, a succession of lakes, connected by cascades and
portages, or by reaches of river, stretched away to the north-west,
sorely marring the uniformity of the chess-board townships.
As they picked their way back along the lot line northward, Mr. Holt
stopped suddenly. 'I hear a very singular noise,' he said, 'for which
I am wholly at a loss to account, unless there be Indians about in the
neighbourhood. Even then it is totally unlike their cries. Listen!'
His sharper senses had detected before theirs a distant wail, proceeding
from some distance in front, apparently--weird and wild as it could be,
dying away or surging upon the ear as the wind swept it hither or
thither. Arthur shrugged his shoulders. 'You have no ghosts in these
forests, Holt, I suppose?'
'The country's too new for anything of the sort,' replied he gravely.
'Nor any mocking birds that can be playing us a trick? Or dryads warning
us off their territory?'
He had recognised the performance of Andy Callaghan, who, when they
turned the corner of the allotment, was discovered seated on the boxes
as when they saw him last, and crooning the dismalest melody. But
he had, in the meantime, recovered himself sufficiently to gather
brushwood, and kindle a fire beside the road; likewise to cook a panful
of rashers as the shadows grew longer and the day later.
'But sure I thought ye wor lost entirely; sure I thought ye wor never
comin' at all, Masther Robert, avourneen. 'Twas that med me rise the
keen. A single livin' thing I didn't lay my eyes on since, barrin' a big
frog. I'm afeard thim are like sticks, Masther Arthur, they're so long
fryin'.'
'No matter, Andy, they'll do first-rate. I'd only advise you to chop up
more. I feel like eating all that myself;' and, trencher on knee, they
dined with real backwood appetites.
A shelter for the night was the next consideration. Mr. Holt constituted
himself architect, and commenced operations by lashing a pole across
two trees at about his own height; the others cut sticks and shrubs for
roofing. Three young saplings sloped back to the ground as principal
rafters, and on these were laid a thatch of brushwood; the open ends of
the hut were filled with the same material.
'Now,' said Sam Holt, contemplating the work of his hands with
professional pride, 'when we have a big fire built in front, and a
lot of hemlock brush to lie on, we shall be pretty comfortable.'
And he instructed his novices further in the art of making their couch
luxuriously agreeable, by picking the hemlock fine, and spreading over
it a buffalo skin. Sam Holt had evidently become acquainted with
'considerable' bush lore at his University of Toronto.