She drew such a lively picture of the
charms of a summer residence in the forest that I began to feel
greatly interested in her descriptions, and to rejoice that we, too,
were to be her near neighbours and dwellers in the woods; and this
circumstance not a little reconciled me to the change.
Hoping that my husband would derive an income equal to the one he
had parted with from the investment of the price of his commission
in the steam-boat stock, I felt no dread of want. Our legacy of 700
pounds had afforded us means to purchase land, build our house, and
give out a large portion of land to be cleared, and, with a
considerable sum of money still in hand, our prospects for the
future were in no way discouraging.
When we reached the top of the ridge that overlooked our cot, my
sister stopped, and pointed out a log-house among the trees.
"There, S - -," she said, "is your home. When that black cedar-swamp
is cleared away, that now hides the lake from us, you will have a
very pretty view." My conversation with her had quite altered the
aspect of the country, and predisposed me to view things in the most
favourable light. I found Moodie and Monaghan employed in piling up
heaps of bush near the house, which they intended to burn off by
hand previous to firing the rest of the fallow, to prevent any risk
to the building from fire. The house was made of cedar logs, and
presented a superior air of comfort to most dwellings of the same
kind. The dimensions were thirty-six feet in length, and thirty-two
in breadth, which gave us a nice parlour, a kitchen, and two small
bed-rooms, which were divided by plank partitions. Pantry or
store-room there was none; some rough shelves in the kitchen, and
a deal cupboard in a corner of the parlour, being the extent of our
accommodations in that way.
Our servant, Mary Tate, was busy scrubbing out the parlour and
bed-room; but the kitchen, and the sleeping-room off it, were still
knee-deep in chips, and filled with the carpenter's bench and tools,
and all our luggage. Such as it was, it was a palace when compared
to Old Satan's log hut, or the miserable cabin we had wintered in
during the severe winter of 1833, and I regarded it with complacency
as my future home.
While we were standing outside the building, conversing with my
husband, a young gentleman, of the name of Morgan, who had lately
purchased land in that vicinity, went into the kitchen to light his
pipe at the stove, and, with true backwood carelessness, let the
hot cinder fall among the dry chips that strewed the floor. A few
minutes after, the whole mass was in a blaze, and it was not without
great difficulty that Moodie and Mr. R - - succeeded in putting out
the fire. Thus were we nearly deprived of our home before we had
taken up our abode in it.
The indifference to the danger of fire in a country where most
of the dwellings are composed of inflammable materials, is truly
astonishing. Accustomed to see enormous fires blazing on every
hearth-stone, and to sleep in front of these fires, his bedding
often riddled with holes made by hot particles of wood flying out
during the night, and igniting beneath his very nose, the sturdy
backwoodsman never dreads an enemy in the element that he is used to
regard as his best friend. Yet what awful accidents, what ruinous
calamities arise, out of this criminal negligence, both to himself
and others!
A few days after this adventure, we bade adieu to my sister, and
took possession of our new dwelling, and commenced "a life in the
woods."
The first spring we spent in comparative ease and idleness. Our cows
had been left upon our old place during the winter. The ground had
to be cleared before it could receive a crop of any kind, and I had
little to do but to wander by the lake shore, or among the woods,
and amuse myself.
These were the halcyon days of the bush. My husband had purchased a
very light cedar canoe, to which he attached a keel and a sail; and
most of our leisure hours, directly the snows melted, were spent
upon the water.
These fishing and shooting excursions were delightful. The pure
beauty of the Canadian water, the sombre but august grandeur of the
vast forest that hemmed us in on every side and shut us out from the
rest of the world, soon cast a magic spell upon our spirits, and we
began to feel charmed with the freedom and solitude around us. Every
object was new to us. We felt as if we were the first discoverers
of every beautiful flower and stately tree that attracted our
attention, and we gave names to fantastic rocks and fairy isles, and
raised imaginary houses and bridges on every picturesque spot which
we floated past during our aquatic excursions. I learned the use of
the paddle, and became quite a proficient in the gentle craft.
It was not long before we received visits from the Indians, a people
whose beauty, talents, and good qualities have been somewhat
overrated, and invested with a poetical interest which they scarcely
deserve. Their honesty and love of truth are the finest traits in
characters otherwise dark and unlovely. But these are two God-like
attributes, and from them spring all that is generous and ennobling
about them.
There never was a people more sensible of kindness, or more grateful
for any little act of benevolence exercised towards them.
