When My Arms Were
Tired With Nursing, I Had Only To Lay My Baby On My Cloak On Deck,
And
Tell Oscar to watch her, and the good dog would lie down by
her, and suffer her to tangle his
Long curls in her little hands,
and pull his tail and ears in the most approved baby fashion,
without offering the least opposition; but if any one dared to
approach his charge, he was alive on the instant, placing his paws
over the child, and growling furiously. He would have been a bold
man who had approached the child to do her injury. Oscar was the
best plaything, and as sure a protector, as Katie had.
During the day, many of our passengers took their departure; tired
of the close confinement of the ship, and the long voyage, they
were too impatient to remain on board until we reached Montreal.
The mechanics obtained instant employment, and the girls who were
old enough to work, procured situations as servants in the city.
Before night, our numbers were greatly reduced. The old dragoon and
his family, two Scotch fiddlers of the name of Duncan, a Highlander
called Tam Grant, and his wife and little son, and our own party,
were all that remained of the seventy-two passengers that left the
Port of Leith in the brig Anne.
In spite of the earnest entreaties of his young wife, the said Tam
Grant, who was the most mercurial fellow in the world, would insist
upon going on shore to see all the lions of the place. "Ah, Tam!
Tam! ye will die o' the cholera," cried the weeping Maggie. "My
heart will brak if ye dinna bide wi' me an' the bairnie." Tam was
deaf as Ailsa Craig. Regardless of tears and entreaties, he jumped
into the boat, like a wilful man as he was, and my husband went
with him. Fortunately for me, the latter returned safe to the
vessel, in time to proceed with her to Montreal, in tow of the
noble steamer, British America; but Tam, the volatile Tam was
missing. During the reign of the cholera, what at another time
would have appeared but a trifling incident, was now invested with
doubt and terror. The distress of the poor wife knew no bounds.
I think I see her now, as I saw her then, sitting upon the floor
of the deck, her head buried between her knees, rocking herself to
and fro, and weeping in the utter abandonment of her grief. "He is
dead! he is dead! My dear, dear Tam! The pestilence has seized upon
him; and I and the puir bairn are left alone in the strange land."
All attempts at consolation were useless; she obstinately refused
to listen to probabilities, or to be comforted. All through the
night I heard her deep and bitter sobs, and the oft-repeated name
of him that she had lost.
The sun was sinking over the plague-stricken city, gilding the
changing woods and mountain peaks with ruddy light; the river
mirrored back the gorgeous sky, and moved in billows of liquid
gold; the very air seemed lighted up with heavenly fires, and
sparkled with myriads of luminous particles, as I gazed my last
upon that beautiful scene.
The tow-line was now attached from our ship to the British America,
and in company with two other vessels, we followed fast in her
foaming wake. Day lingered on the horizon just long enough to
enable me to examine, with deep interest, the rocky heights of
Abraham, the scene of our immortal Wolfe's victory and death;
and when the twilight faded into night, the moon arose in solemn
beauty, and cast mysterious gleams upon the strange stern landscape.
The wide river, flowing rapidly between its rugged banks, rolled in
inky blackness beneath the overshadowing crags; while the waves in
mid-channel flashed along in dazzling light, rendered more intense
by the surrounding darkness. In this luminous track the huge
steamer glided majestically forward, flinging showers of red
earth-stars from the funnel into the clear air, and looking like
some fiery demon of the night enveloped in smoke and flame.
The lofty groves of pine frowned down in hearse-like gloom upon the
mighty river, and the deep stillness of the night, broken alone by
its hoarse wailings, filled my mind with sad forebodings - alas! too
prophetic of the future. Keenly, for the first time, I felt that I
was a stranger in a strange land; my heart yearned intensely for my
absent home. Home! the word had ceased to belong to my present - it
was doomed to live for ever in the past; for what emigrant ever
regarded the country of his exile as his home? To the land he has
left, that name belongs for ever, and in no instance does he bestow
it upon another. "I have got a letter from home!" "I have seen a
friend from home!" "I dreamt last night that I was at home!" are
expressions of everyday occurrence, to prove that the heart
acknowledges no other home than the land of its birth.
From these sad reveries I was roused by the hoarse notes of the
bagpipe. That well-known sound brought every Scotchman upon deck,
and set every limb in motion on the decks of the other vessels.
Determined not to be outdone, our fiddlers took up the strain,
and a lively contest ensued between the rival musicians, which
continued during the greater part of the night. The shouts of noisy
revelry were in no way congenial to my feelings. Nothing tends so
much to increase our melancholy as merry music when the heart is
sad; and I left the scene with eyes brimful of tears, and my mind
painfully agitated by sorrowful recollections and vain regrets.
The strains we hear in foreign lands,
No echo from the heart can claim;
The chords are swept by strangers' hands,
And kindle in the breast no flame,
Sweet though they be.
No fond remembrance wakes to fling
Its hallowed influence o'er the chords;
As if a spirit touch'd the string,
Breathing, in soft harmonious words,
Deep melody.
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