THE WHIRLWIND
[For the poem that heads this chapter, I am indebted to my
brother, Mr. Strickland, of Douro, C.W.]
Dark, heavy clouds were gathering in the west,
Wrapping the forest in funereal gloom;
Onward they roll'd, and rear'd each livid crest,
Like Death's murk shadows frowning o'er earth's tomb.
From out the inky womb of that deep night
Burst livid flashes of electric flame.
Whirling and circling with terrific might,
In wild confusion on the tempest came.
Nature, awakening from her still repose,
Shudders responsive to the whirlwind's shock,
Feels at her might heart convulsive throes,
And all her groaning forests to earth's bosom rock.
But hark! - What means that hollow, rushing sound,
That breaks the death-like stillness of the morn?
Red forked lightnings fiercely glare around,
Sharp, crashing thunders on the winds are borne,
And see yon spiral column, black as night,
Rearing triumphantly its wreathing form;
Ruin's abroad, and through the murky light -
Drear desolation marks the spirit of the storm.
S.S.
The 19th of August came, and our little harvest was all safely
housed. Business called Moodie away for a few days to Cobourg.
Jenny had gone to Dummer, to visit her friends, and J. E - - had
taken a grist of the new wheat, which he and Moodie had threshed
the day before, to the mill. I was consequently left alone with
the children, and had a double portion of work to do. During their
absence it was my lot to witness the most awful storm I ever beheld,
and a vivid recollection of its terrors was permanently fixed upon
my memory.
The weather had been intensely hot during the three preceding days,
although the sun was entirely obscured by a blueish haze, which
seemed to render the unusual heat of the atmosphere more oppressive.
Not a breath of air stirred the vast forest, and the waters of the
lake assumed a leaden hue. After passing a sleepless night, I arose,
a little after day-break, to superintend my domestic affairs. E - -
took his breakfast, and went off to the mill, hoping that the rain
would keep off until after his return.
"It is no joke," he said, "being upon these lakes in a small canoe,
heavily laden, in a storm."
Before the sun rose, the heavens were covered with hard-looking
clouds, of a deep blue and black cast, fading away to white at their
edges, and in the form resembling the long, rolling waves of a heavy
sea - but with this difference, that the clouds were perfectly
motionless, piled in long curved lines, one above the other, and
so remained until four o'clock in the afternoon. The appearance
of these clouds, as the sun rose above the horizon, was the most
splendid that can be imagined, tinged up to the zenith with every
shade of saffron, gold, rose-colour, scarlet, and crimson, fading
away into the deepest violet. Never did the storm-fiend shake in
the face of a day a more gorgeous banner; and, pressed as I was
for time, I stood gazing like one entranced upon the magnificent
pageant.
As the day advanced, the same blue haze obscured the sun, which
frowned redly through his misty veil. At ten o'clock the heat was
suffocating, and I extinguished the fire in the cooking-stove,
determined to make our meals upon bread and milk, rather than add
to the oppressive heat. The thermometer in the shade ranged from
ninety-six to ninety-eight degrees, and I gave over my work and
retired with the ones to the coolest part of the house. The young
creatures stretched themselves upon the floor, unable to jump about
or play; the dog lay panting in the shade; the fowls half-buried
themselves in the dust, with open beaks and outstretched wings;
all nature seemed to droop beneath the scorching heat.
Unfortunately for me, a gentlemen arrived about one o'clock from
Kingston, to transact some business with my husband. He had not
tasted food since six o'clock, and I was obliged to kindle the
fire to prepare his dinner. It was one of the hardest tasks I ever
performed; I almost fainted with the heat, and most inhospitably
rejoiced when his dinner was over, and I saw him depart. Shortly
after, my friend Mrs. C - - and her brother called in, on their
way from Peterborough.
"How do you bear the heat?" asked Mrs. C - -. "This is one of the
hottest days I ever remember to have experienced in this part of
the province. I am afraid that it will end in a hurricane, or what
the Lower Canadians term 'l'orage.'"
About four o'clock they rose to go. I urged them to stay longer.
"No," said Mrs. C - -, "the sooner we get home the better. I think
we can reach it before the storm breaks."
I took Donald in my arms, and my eldest boy by the hand, and walked
with them to the brow of the hill, thinking that the air would be
cooler in the shade. In this I was mistaken. The clouds over our
heads hung so low, and the heat was so great, that I was soon glad
to retrace my steps.
The moment I turned round to face the lake, I was surprised at the
change that had taken place in the appearance of the heavens. The
clouds, that had before lain so motionless, were now in rapid
motion, hurrying and chasing each other round the horizon. It was
a strangely awful sight. Before I felt a breath of the mighty blast
that had already burst on the other side of the lake, branches of
trees, leaves, and clouds of dust were whirled across the lake,
whose waters rose in long sharp furrows, fringed with foam, as if
moved in their depths by some unseen but powerful agent.
