Canadian Crusoes

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"Yes, Louis," replied his cousin, hesitating as she spoke; "it is very
pretty, and I did not mind sleeping in the little hut; but then I cannot
enjoy myself as much as I should have done had my father and mother been
aware of my intention of accompanying you. Ah, my dear, dear parents!" she
added, as the thought of the anguish the absence of her companions and
herself would cause at home came over her. "How I wish I had remained at
home! Selfish Catharine! foolish idle girl!"

Poor Louis was overwhelmed with grief at the sight of his cousin's tears,
and as the kind-hearted but thoughtless boy bent over her to soothe and
console her, his own tears fell upon the fair locks of the weeping girl,
and bedewed the hand he held between his own.

"If you cry thus, cousin," he whispered, "you will break poor Louis's
heart, already sore enough with thinking of his foolish conduct." "Be not
cast down, Catharine," said her brother, cheeringly: "we may not be so far
from home as you think. As soon as you are rested we will set out again,
and we may find something to eat; there must be strawberries on these sunny
banks."

Catharine soon yielded to the voice of her brother, and drying her eyes,
proceeded to descend the sides of the steep valley that lay to one side of
the high ground where they had been sitting.

Suddenly darting down the bank, she exclaimed, "Come, Hector; come, Louis:
here indeed is provision to keep us from starving:"--for her eye had caught
the bright red strawberries among the flowers and herbage on the slope;
large ripe strawberries, the very finest she had ever seen.

"There is indeed, ma belle," said Louis, stooping as he spoke to gather up,
not the fruit, but a dozen fresh partridge eggs from the inner shade of a
thick tuft of grass and herbs that grew beside a fallen tree. Catharine's
voice and sudden movements had startled the partridge [Footnote: The
Canadian partridge is a species of grouse, larger than the English or
French partridge. We refer our young readers to the finely arranged
specimens in the British Museum, (open to the public,) where they may
discover "Louis's partridge."] from her nest, and the eggs were soon
transferred to Louis's straw hat, while a stone flung by the steady
hand of Hector stunned the parent bird. The boys laughed exultingly as
they displayed their prizes to the astonished Catharine, who, in spite of
hunger, could not help regretting the death of the mother bird. Girls and
women rarely sympathise with men and boys in their field sports, and Hector
laughed at his sister's doleful looks as he handed over the bird to her.

"It was a lucky chance," said he, "and the stone was well aimed, but it is
not the first partridge that I have killed in this way. They are so stupid
you may even run them down at times; I hope to get another before the day
is over. Well, there is no fear of starving to-day, at all events," he
added, as he inspected the contents of his cousin's hat; "twelve nice fresh
eggs, a bird, and plenty of fruit."

"But how shall we cook the bird and the eggs? We have no means of getting a
fire made," said Catharine.

"As to the eggs," said Louis, "we can eat them raw; it is not for hungry
wanderers like us to be over nice about our food."

"They would satisfy us much better were they boiled, or roasted in the
ashes," observed Hector.

"True. Well, a fire, I think, can be got with a little trouble."

"But how?" asked Hector. "Oh, there are many ways, but the readiest would
be a flint with the help of my knife."

"A flint?"

"Yes, if we could get one--but I see nothing but granite, which crumbles
and shivers when struck--we could not get a spark. However, I think it's
very likely that one of the round pebbles I see on the beach yonder may be
found hard enough for the purpose."

To the shore they bent their steps as soon as the little basket had been
well filled with strawberries, and descending the precipitous bank, fringed
with young saplings, birch, ash, and poplars, they quickly found themselves
beside the bright waters of the lake. A flint was soon found among the
water-worn stones that lay thickly strewn upon the shore, and a handful of
dry sedge, almost as inflammable as tinder, was collected without trouble;
though Louis, with the recklessness of his nature, had coolly proposed
to tear a strip from his cousin's apron as a substitute for tinder,--a
proposal that somewhat raised the indignation of the tidy Catharine, whose
ideas of economy and neatness were greatly outraged, especially as she had
no sewing implements to assist in mending the rent. Louis thought nothing
of that; it was a part of his character to think only of the present,
little of the past, and to let the future provide for itself. Such was
Louis's great failing, which had proved a fruitful source of trouble both
to himself and others. In this respect he bore a striking contrast to his
more cautious companion, who possessed much of the gravity of his father.
Hector was as heedful and steady in his decisions as Louis was rash and
impetuous.

After many futile attempts, and some skin knocked off their knuckles
through awkward handling of the knife and flint, a good fire was at last
kindled, as there was no lack of dry wood on the shore; Catharine then
triumphantly produced her tin pot, and the eggs were boiled, greatly to the
satisfaction of all parties, who were by this time sufficiently hungry,
having eaten nothing since the previous evening more substantial than the
strawberries they had taken during the time they were gathering them in the
morning.

Catharine had selected a pretty, cool, shady recess, a natural bower, under
the overhanging growth of cedars, poplars, and birch, which were wreathed
together by the flexile branches of the vine and bitter-sweet,
which climbed to a height of fifteen feet [Footnote: _Solatnum
dulcamara_,--Bitter-sweet or Woody nightshade. This plant, like the
red-berried briony of England, is highly ornamental. It possesses powerful
properties as a medicine, and is in high reputation among the Indians.]
among the branches [Illustration: THE FIRST BREAKFAST] of the trees, which
it covered as with a mantle. A pure spring of cold, delicious water welled
out from beneath the twisted roots of an old hoary-barked cedar, and found
its way among the shingles on the beach to the lake, a humble but constant
tributary to its waters. Some large blocks of water-worn stone formed
convenient seats and a natural table, on which the little maiden arranged
the forest fare; and never was a meal made with greater appetite or taken
with more thankfulness than that which our wanderers ate that morning. The
eggs (part of which they reserved for another time) were declared to be
better than those that were daily produced from the little hen-house at
Cold Springs. The strawberries, set out in little pottles made with the
shining leaves of the oak, ingeniously pinned together by Catharine with
the long spurs of the hawthorn, [Footnote: The long-spurred American
hawthorn may be observed by our young readers among that beautiful
collection of the hawthorn family and its affinities, which flourish on the
north side of Kensington Gardens.] were voted delicious, and the pure water
most refreshing, that they drank, for lack of better cups, from a large
mussel-shell which Catharine had picked up among the weeds and pebbles on
the beach.

Many children would have wandered about weeping and disconsolate, lamenting
their sad fate, or have embittered the time by useless repining, or,
perhaps, by venting their uneasiness in reviling the principal author of
their calamity--poor, thoughtless Louis; but such were not the dispositions
of our young Canadians. Early accustomed to the hardships incidental to the
lives of the settlers in the bush, these young people had learned to bear
with patience and cheerfulness privations that would have crushed the
spirits of children more delicately nurtured. They had known every degree
of hunger and nakedness; during the first few years of their lives they had
often been compelled to subsist for days and weeks upon roots and herbs,
wild fruits, and game which their fathers had learned to entrap, to decoy,
and to shoot. Thus Louis and Hector had early been initiated into the
mysteries of the chase. They could make deadfalls, and pits, and traps, and
snares,--they were as expert as Indians in the use of the bow,--they could
pitch a stone, or fling a wooden dart at partridge, hare, and squirrel,
with almost unerring aim; and were as swift of foot as young fawns. Now
it was that they learned to value in its fullest extent this useful
and practical knowledge, which enabled them to face with fortitude the
privations of a life so precarious as that to which they were now exposed.

It was one of the elder Maxwell's maxims,--Never let difficulties overcome
you, but rather strive to conquer them; let the head direct the hand, and
the hand, like a well-disciplined soldier, obey the head as chief. When his
children expressed any doubts of not being able to accomplish any work they
had begun, he would say, "Have you not hands, have you not a head, have you
not eyes to see, and reason to guide you? As for impossibilities, they do
not belong to the trade of a soldier,--he dare not see them." Thus were
energy and perseverance early instilled into the minds of his children;
they were now called upon to give practical proofs of the precepts that had
been taught them in childhood. Hector trusted to his axe, and Louis to his
_couteau-de-chasse_ and pocket-knife; the latter was a present from an old
forest friend of his father's, who had visited them the previous winter,
and which, by good luck, Louis had in his pocket--a capacious pouch, in
which were stored many precious things, such as coils of twine and string,
strips of leather, with odds and ends of various kinds; nails, bits of
iron, leather, and such miscellaneous articles as find their way most
mysteriously into boys' pockets in general, and Louis Perron's in
particular, who was a wonderful collector of such small matters.

The children were not easily daunted by the prospect of passing a few days
abroad on so charming a spot, and at such a lovely season, where fruits
were so abundant; and when they had finished their morning meal, so
providentially placed within their reach, they gratefully acknowledged the
mercy of God in this thing.

Having refreshed themselves by bathing their hands and faces in the lake,
they cheerfully renewed their wanderings, though something both to leave
the cool shade and the spring for an untrodden path among the hills and
deep ravines that furrow the shores of the Rice Lake in so remarkable a
manner; and often did our weary wanderers pause to look upon the wild glens
and precipitous hills, where the fawn and the shy deer found safe retreats,
unharmed by the rifle of the hunter,--where the osprey and white-headed
eagle built their nests, unheeding and unharmed. Twice that day, misled by
following the track of the deer, had they returned to the same spot,--a
deep and lovely glen, which had once been a water-course, but now a green
and shady valley. This they named the Valley of the Rock, from a remarkable
block of red granite that occupied a central position in the narrow defile;
and here they prepared to pass the second night on the Plains. A few boughs
cut down and interlaced with the shrubs round a small space cleared with
Hector's axe, formed shelter, and leaves and grass, strewed on the ground,
formed a bed, though not so smooth, perhaps, as the bark and cedar-boughs
that the Indians spread within their summer wigwams for carpets and
couches, or the fresh heather that the Highlanders gather on the wild
Scottish hills.

While Hector and Louis were preparing the sleeping-chamber, Catharine
busied herself in preparing the partridge for their supper. Having
collected some thin peelings from the ragged bark of a birch-tree, that
grew on the side of the steep bank to which she gave the appropriate name
of the "Birken shaw," she dried it in her bosom, and then beat it fine
upon a big stone, till it resembled the finest white paper. This proved
excellent tinder, the aromatic oil contained in the bark of the birch being
highly inflammable, Hector had prudently retained the flint that they had
used in the morning, and a fire was now lighted in front of the rocky
stone, and a forked stick, stuck in the ground, and bent over the coals,
served as a spit, on which, gipsy-fashion, the partridge was suspended,--a
scanty meal, but thankfully partaken of, though they knew not how they
should breakfast next morning, The children felt they were pensioners on
God's providence not less than the wild denizens of the wilderness around
them.

When Hector--who by nature was less sanguine than his sister or
cousin--expressed some anxiety for their provisions for the morrow,
Catharine, who had early listened with trusting piety of heart to the
teaching of her father, when he read portions from the holy word of God,
gently laid her hand upon her brother's head, which rested on her knees,
as he sat upon the grass beside her, and said, in a low and earnest tone,
"'Consider the fowls of the air; they sow not, neither do they reap, nor
gather into barns, yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much
better than they?' Surely, my brother, God careth for us as much as for the
wild creatures, that have no sense to praise and glorify his holy name. God
cares for the creatures He has made, and supplies them with knowledge where
they shall find food when they hunger and thirst. So I have heard my father
say; and surely our father knows, for is he not a wise man, Hector?"

"I remember," said Louis, thoughtfully, "hearing my mother repeat the words
of a good old man she knew when she lived in Quebec;--'When you are in
trouble, Mathilde,' he used to say to her, 'kneel down, and ask God's help,
nothing doubting but that He has the power as well as the will to serve
you, if it be for your good; for He is able to bring all things to pass.
It is our own want of faith that prevents our prayers from being heard.
And, truly, I think the wise old man was right," he added.

It was strange to hear grave words like these from the lips of the giddy
Louis. Possibly they had the greater weight on that account. And Hector,
looking up with a serious air, replied, "Your mother's friend was a good
man, Louis. Our want of trust in God's power must displease Him. And when
we think of all the great and glorious things He has made,--that blue sky,
those sparkling stars, the beautiful moon that is now shining down upon us,
and the hills and waters, the mighty forest, and little creeping plants and
flowers that grow at our feet,--it must, indeed, seem foolish in his eyes
that we should doubt his power to help us, who not only made all these
things, but ourselves also."

"True," said Catharine; "but then, Hector, we are not as God made us; for
the wicked one cast bad seed in the field where God had sown the good."

"Let us, however, consider what we shall do for food; for, you know, God
helps those that help themselves," said Louis. "Let us consider a little.
There must be plenty of fish in the lake, both small and great."

"But how are we to get them out of it?" rejoined Catharine. "I doubt the
fish will swim at their ease there, while we go hungry."

"Do not interrupt me, ma chere. Then, we see the track of deer, and the
holes of the wood-chuck; we hear the cry of squirrels and chipmunks, and
there are plenty of partridges, and ducks, and quails, and snipes; of
course, we have to contrive some way to kill them. Fruits there are in
abundance, and plenty of nuts of different kinds. At present we have plenty
of fine strawberries, and huckleberries will be ripe soon in profusion, and
bilberries too, and you know how pleasant they are; as for raspberries, I
see none; but by-and-by there will be May-apples--I see great quantities of
them in the low grounds, grapes, high-bush-cranberries, haws as large as
cherries, and sweet too; squaw-berries, wild plums, choke-cherries, and
bird-cherries. As to sweet acorns, there will be bushels and bushels of
them for the roasting, as good as chestnuts, to my taste; and butter-nuts,
and hickory-nuts,--with many other good things." And here Louis stopped for
want of breath to continue his catalogue of forest dainties.

"Yes; and there are bears, and wolves, and racoons, too, that will eat us
for want of better food," interrupted Hector, slyly. "Nay, Katty, do not
shudder, as if you were already in the clutches of a big bear. Neither bear
nor wolf shall make mincemeat of thee, my girl, while Louis and thy brother
are near, to wield an axe or a knife in thy defence."

"Nor catamount spring upon thee, ma belle cousine," added Louis, gallantly,
"while thy bold cousin Louis can scare him away."

"Well, now that we know our resources, the next thing is to consider how we
are to obtain them, my dears," said Catharine. "For fishing, you know, we
must have a hook and line, a rod, or a net. Now, where are these to be met
with?"

Louis nodded his head sagaciously. "The line I think I can provide; the
hook is more difficult, but I do not despair even of that. As to the rod,
it can be cut from any slender sapling on the shore. A net, ma chere, I
could make with very little trouble, if I had but a piece of cloth to sew
over a hoop."

Catharine laughed. "You are very ingenious, no doubt, Monsieur Louis, but
where are you to get the cloth and the hoop, and the means of sewing it
on?"

Lords took up the corner of his cousin's apron with a provoking look.

"My apron, sir, is not to be appropriated for any such purpose. You seem to
covet it for everything."

"Indeed, ma petite, I think it very unbecoming and very ugly, and never
could see any good reason why you and Mamma and Mathilde should wear such
frightful things."

"It is to keep our gowns clean, Louis, when we are milking and scrubbing,
and doing all sorts of household duties," said Catharine.

"Well, ma belle, you have neither cows to milk, nor house to clean,"
replied the annoying boy; "so there can be little want of the apron. I
could turn it to fifty useful purposes."

"Pooh, nonsense," said Hector, impatiently, "let the child alone, and do
not tease her about her apron."

"Well, then, there is another good thing I did not think of before, water
mussels. I have heard my father and old Jacob the lumberer say, that,
roasted in their shells in the ashes, with a seasoning of salt and pepper,
they are good eating when nothing better is to be got."

"No doubt, if the seasoning can be procured," said Hector, "but, alas for
the salt and the pepper!"

"Well, we can eat them with the best of all sauces--hunger; and then, no
doubt, there are crayfish in the gravel under the stones, but we must not
mind a pinch to our fingers in taking them."

"To-morrow then let us breakfast on fish," said Hector. "You and I will try
our luck, while Kate gathers strawberries; and if our line should break, we
can easily cut those long locks from Catharine's head, and twist them into
lines,"--and Hector laid his hands upon the long fair hair that hung in
shining curls about his sister's neck.

"Cut my curls! This is even worse than cousin Louis's proposal of making
tinder and fishing-nets of my apron," said Catharine, shaking back the
bright tresses, which, escaping from the snood that bound them, fell in
golden waves over her shoulders.

"In truth, Hec, it were a sin and a shame to cut her pretty curls, that
become her so well," said Louis. "But we have no scissors, ma belle, so you
need fear no injury to your precious locks."

"For the matter of that, Louis, we could cut them with your
_couteau-de-chasse_. I could tell you a story that my father told me, not
long since, of Charles Stuart, the second king of that name in England. You
know he was the grand-uncle of the young Chevalier Charles Edward, that my
father talks of, and loves so much."

"I know all about him," said Catharine, nodding sagaciously; "let us hear
the story of his grand-uncle. But I should like to know what my hair and
Louis's knife can have to do with King Charles."

"Wait a bit, Kate, and you shall hear, that is, if you have patience," said
her brother. "Well then, you must know, that after some great battle, the
name of which I forget, [Footnote: Battle of Worcester.] in which the
King and his handful of brave soldiers were defeated by the forces of the
Parliament, (the Roundheads, as they were called,) the poor young king was
hunted like a partridge upon the mountains; a large price was set on his
head, to be given to any traitor who should slay him, or bring him prisoner
to Oliver Cromwell. He was obliged to dress himself in all sorts of queer
clothes, and hide in all manner of strange, out of the way places, and keep
company with rude and humble men, the better to hide his real rank from
the cruel enemies that sought his life. Once he hid along with a gallant
gentleman, [Footnote: Colonel Careless.] one of his own brave officers, in
the branches of a great oak. Once he was hid in a mill; and another time he
was in the house of one Pendril, a woodman. The soldiers of the Parliament,
who were always prowling about, and popping in unawares wherever they
suspected the poor king to be hidden, were, at one time, in the very room
where he was standing beside the fire."

"Oh!" exclaimed Catharine, "that was frightful. And did they take him
prisoner?"

"No; for the wise woodman and his brothers, fearing lest the soldiers
should discover that he was a cavalier and a gentleman, by the long curls
that the king's men all wore in those days, and called _lovelocks_, begged
of his majesty to let his hair be cropped close to his head."

"That was very hard, to lose his nice curls."

"I dare say the voting king thought so too, but it was better to lose his
hair than his head. So, I suppose, the men told him, for he suffered them
to cut it all close to his head, laying down his head on a rough deal
table, or a chopping-block, while his faithful friends with a large knife
trimmed off the curls."

"I wonder if the young king thought at that minute of his poor father, who,
you know, was forced by wicked men to lay down his head upon a block
to have it cut from his shoulders, because Cromwell, and others as
hard-hearted as himself, willed that he should die." "Poor king!" said
Catharine, sighing, "I see that it is better to be poor children, wandering
on these plains under God's own care, than to be kings and princes at the
mercy of bad and sinful men."

"Who told your father all these things, Hec?" said Louis.

"It was the son of his brave colonel, who knew a great deal about the
history of the Stuart kings, for our colonel had been with Prince Charles,
the young chevalier, and fought by his side when he was in Scotland; he
loved him dearly, and, after the battle of Culloden, where the Prince lost
all, and was driven from place to place, and had not where to lay his head,
he went abroad in hopes of better times; (but those times did not come for
the poor Prince; and our colonel) after a while, through the friendship of
General Wolfe, got a commission in the army that was embarking for Quebec,
and, at last, commanded the regiment to which my father belonged. He was
a kind man, and my father loved both him and his son, and grieved not a
little when he parted from him."

"Well," said Catharine, "as you have told me such a nice story, Mister Hec,
I shall forgive the affront about my curls."

"Well, then, to-morrow we are to try our luck at fishing, and if we fail,
we will make us bows and arrows to kill deer or small game; I fancy we
shall not be over particular as to its of quality. Why should not we be
able to find subsistence as well as the wild Indians?"

"True," said Hector, "the wild men of the wilderness, and the animals and
birds, all are fed by the things that He provideth; then, wherefore should
His white children fear?"

"I have often heard my father tell of the privations of the lumberers, when
they have fallen short of provisions, and of the contrivances of himself
and old Jacob Morelle, when they were lost for several days, nay, weeks I
believe it was. Like the Indians, they made themselves bows and arrows,
using the sinews of the deer, or fresh thongs of leather, for bow-strings;
and when they could not get game to eat, they boiled the inner bark of the
slippery elm to jelly, or birch bark, and drank the sap of the sugar maple
when they could get no water but melted snow only, which is unwholesome; at
last, they even boiled their own mocassins."

"Indeed, Louis, that must have been a very unsavoury dish," said Catharine.

"That old buckskin vest would have made a famous pot of soup of itself,"
added Hector, "or the deer-skin hunting shirt." "Well, they might have been
reduced even to that," said Louis, laughing, "but for the good fortune that
befel them in the way of a half-roasted bear."

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