Life in the Backwoods

S >> Susanna Moodie >> Life in the Backwoods

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I could not help laughing, but I begged John by no means to annoy Emilia
by hurting her cat.

The next day, while sitting in the parlour at work, I heard a dreadful
squall, and rushed to the rescue. John was standing, with a flushed cheek,
grasping a large stick in his hand, and Tom was lying dead at his feet.

"Oh, the poor cat!".

"Yes, I have killed him; but I am sorry for it now. What will Mrs. ____
say?"

"She must not know it. I have told you the story of the pig that Jacob
killed. You had better bury it with the pig."

John was really sorry for having yielded, in a fit of passion, to do
so cruel a thing; yet a few days after he got into a fresh scrape with
Mrs. ____'s animals.

The hens were laying, up at the barn. John was very fond of fresh eggs,
but some strange dog came daily and sucked the eggs. John had vowed to
kill the first dog he found in the act Mr. ____ had a very fine bull-dog,
which he valued very highly; but with Emilia, Chowder was an especial
favourite. Bitterly had she bemoaned the fate of Tom, and many were the
inquiries she made of us as to his sudden disappearance.

One afternoon John ran into the room. "My dear Mrs. Moodie, what is
Mrs. ____'s dog like?"

"A large bull-dog, brindled black and white."

"There, by Jove, I've shot him!"

"John, John! you mean me to quarrel in earnest with my friend. How could
you do it?"

"Why, how the deuce should I know her dog from another? I caught the big
thief in the very act of devouring the eggs from under your sitting hen,
and I shot him dead without another thought. But I will bury him, and she
will never find it out a bit more than she did who killed the cat."

Some time after this, Emilia returned from a visit at P____. The first
thing she told me was the loss of the dog. She was so vexed at it, she had
had him advertised, offering a reward for his recovery. I, of course, was
called upon to sympathize with her, which I did with a very bad grace. "I
did not like the beast," I said; "he was cross and fierce, and I was
afraid to go up to her house while he was there."

"Yes; but to lose him so. It is so provoking; and him such a valuable
animal. I could not tell how deeply she felt the loss. She would give four
dollars to find out who had stolen him."

How near she came to making the grand discovery the sequel will show.

Instead of burying him with the murdered pig and cat, John had scratched a
shallow grave in the garden, and concealed the dead brute.

After tea, Emilia requested to look at the garden; and I, perfectly
unconscious that it contained the remains of the murdered Chowder, led the
way. Mrs. ____, whilst gathering a handful of fine green peas, suddenly
stooped, and looking earnestly at the ground, called to me.

"Come here, Susanna, and tell me what has been buried here. It looks like
the tail of a dog."

She might have added, "of my dog." Murder, it seems, will out. By some
strange chance, the grave that covered the mortal remains of Chowder had
been disturbed, and the black tail of the dog was sticking out.

"What can it be?" said I, with an air of perfect innocence. "Shall I call
Jenny, and dig it up?"

"Oh, no, my dear; it has a shocking smell, but it does look very much like
Chowder's tail."

"Impossible! How could it come among my peas?"

"True. Besides, I saw Chowder, with my own eyes yesterday, following a
team; and George C____ hopes to recover him for me."

"Indeed! I am glad to hear it. How these mosquitoes sting. Shall we go
back to the house?"

While we returned to the house, John, who had overheard the whole
conversation, hastily disinterred the body of Chowder, and placed him in
the same mysterious grave with Tom and the pig. Moodie and his friend
finished logging-up the eight acres which the former had cleared the
previous winter; besides putting in a crop of peas and potatoes, and an
acre of Indian corn, reserving the fallow for fall wheat; while we had the
promise of a splendid crop of hay off the sixteen acres that had been
cleared in 1834. We were all in high spirits, and every thing promised
fair, until a very trifling circumstance again occasioned us much anxiety
and trouble, and was the cause of our losing most of our crop.

Moodie was asked to attend a bee, which was called to construct a corduroy
bridge over a very bad piece of road. He and J. E____ were obliged to go
that morning with wheat to the mill, but Moodie lent his yoke of oxen for
the work.

The driver selected for them at the bee was the brutal M____y, a savage
Irishman, noted for his ill-treatment of cattle, especially if the animals
did not belong to him. He gave one of the oxen such a severe blow over the
loins with a handspike that the creature came home perfectly disabled,
just as we wanted his services in the hay-field and harvest.

Moodie had no money to purchase, or even to hire, a mate for the other ox;
but he and John hoped that by careful attendance upon the injured animal
he might be restored to health in a few days. They conveyed him to a
deserted clearing, a short distance from the farm, where he would be safe
from injury from the rest of the cattle; and early every morning we went
in the canoe to carry poor Duke a warm mash, and to watch the progress of
his recovery.

Ah, ye who revel in this world's wealth, how little can you realize the
importance which we, in our poverty, attached to the life of this valuable
animal! Yes, it even became the subject of prayer, for the bread for
ourselves and our little ones depended greatly upon his recovery. We were
doomed to disappointment. After nursing him with the greatest attention
and care for some weeks, the animal grew daily worse, and suffered such
intense agony, as he lay groaning upon the ground, unable to rise, that
John shot him to put him out of pain.

Here, then, were we left without oxen to draw in our hay, or secure our
other crops. A neighbour, who had an odd ox, kindly lent us the use of
him, when he was not employed on his own farm; and John and Moodie gave
their own work for the occasional loan of a yoke of oxen for-a-day. But
with all these drawbacks, and in spite of the assistance of old Jenny
and myself in the field, a great deal of the produce was damaged before it
could be secured. The whole summer we had to labour under this
disadvantage. Our neighbours were all too busy to give us any help, and
their own teams were employed in saving their crops. Fortunately, the few
acres of wheat we had to reap were close to the barn, and we carried the
sheaves thither by hand; old Jenny proving an invaluable help, both in the
harvest and hay field.

Still, with all these misfortunes, Providence watched over us in a signal
manner. We were never left entirely without food. Like the widow's cruise
of oil, our means, though small, were never suffered to cease entirely. We
had been for some days without meat, when Moodie came running in for his
gun. A great she-bear was in the wheat-field at the edge of the wood, very
busily employed in helping to harvest the crop. There was but one bullet,
and a charge or two of buck-shot, in the house; but Moodie started to the
wood with the single bullet in his gun, followed by a little terrier dog
that belonged to John E____. Old Jenny was busy at the wash-tub, but the
moment she saw her master running up the clearing, and knew the cause, she
left her work, and snatching up the carving-knife, ran after him, that in
case the bear should have the best of the fight, she would be there to
help "the masther." Finding her shoes incommode her, she flung them off,
in order to run faster. A few minutes after, came the report of the gun,
and I heard Moodie halloo to E____, who was cutting stakes for a fence in
the wood. I hardly thought it possible that he could have killed the bear,
but I ran to the door to listen. The children were all excitement, which
the sight of the black monster, borne down the clearing upon two poles,
increased to the wildest demonstrations of joy. Moodie and John were
carrying the prize, and old Jenny, brandishing her carving-knife, followed
in the rear.

The rest of the evening was spent in skinning and cutting up and salting
the ugly creature, whose flesh filled a barrel with excellent meat, in
flavour resembling beef, while the short grain and juicy nature of the
flesh gave to it the tenderness of mutton. This was quite a Godsend, and
lasted us until we were able to kill two large, fat hogs, in the fall.

A few nights after, Moodie and I encountered the mate of Mrs. Bruin, while
returning from a visit to Emilia, in the very depth of the wood.

"We had been invited to meet our friend's father and mother, who had come
up on a short visit to the woods; and the evening passed away so
pleasantly that it was near midnight before the little party of friends
separated. The moon was down. The wood, through which we had to return,
was very dark; the ground being low and swampy, and the trees thick and
tall. There was, in particular, one very ugly spot, where a small creek
crossed the road. This creek could only be passed by foot-passengers
scrambling over a fallen tree, which, in a dark night, was not very easy
to find. I begged a torch of Mr. M____; but no torch could be found.
Emilia laughed at my fears; still, knowing what a coward I was in the bush
of a night, she found up about an inch of candle, which was all that
remained from the evening's entertainment. This she put into an old
lantern.

"It will not last you long; but it will carry you over the creek."

This was something gained, and off we set. It was so dark in the bush,
that our dim candle looked like a solitary red spark in the intense
surrounding darkness, and scarcely served to show us the path. We went
chatting along, talking over the news of the evening, Hector running on
before us, when I saw a pair of eyes glare upon us from the edge of the
swamp, with the green, bright light emitted by the eyes of a cat.

"Did you see those terrible eyes, Moodie?" and I clung, trembling, to his
arm.

"What eyes?" said he, feigning ignorance. "It's too dark to see any thing.
The light is nearly gone, and, if you don't quicken your pace, and cross
the tree before it goes out, you will, perhaps, get your feet wet by
falling into the creek."

"Good heavens! I saw them again; and do just look at the dog."

Hector stopped suddenly, and, stretching himself along the ground, his
nose resting between his fore-paws, began to whine and tremble. Presently
he ran back to us, and crept under our feet. The cracking of branches, and
the heavy tread of some large animal, sounded close beside us.

Moodie turned the open lantern in the direction from whence the sounds
came, and shouted as loud as he could, at the same time endeavouring to
urge forward the fear-stricken dog, whose cowardice was only equalled by
my own.

Just at that critical moment the wick of the candle flickered a moment in
the socket, and expired. We were left, in perfect darkness, alone with the
bear--for such we supposed the animal to be.

My heart beat audibly; a cold perspiration was streaming down my face, but
I neither shrieked nor attempted to run. I don't know how Moodie got me
over the creek. One of my feet slipped into the water, but, expecting, as
I did every moment, to be devoured by master Bruin, that was a thing of no
consequence. My husband was laughing at my fears, and every now and then
he turned towards our companion, who continued following us at no great
distance, and gave him an encouraging shout. Glad enough was I when I saw
the gleam of the light from our little cabin window shine out among the
trees; and, the moment I got within the clearing, I ran, without stopping
until I was safely within the house. John was sitting up for us, nursing
Donald. He listened with great interest to our adventure with the bear,
and thought that Bruin was very good to let us escape without one
affectionate hug.

"Perhaps it would have been otherwise had he known, Moodie, that you had
not only killed his good lady, but were dining sumptuously off her carcass
every day."

The bear was determined to have something in return for the loss of his
wife. Several nights after this, our slumbers were disturbed, about
midnight, by an awful yell, and old Jenny shook violently at our chamber
door.

"Masther, masther, dear!--Get up wid you this moment, or the bear will
desthroy the cattle intirely."

Half asleep, Moodie sprang from his bed, seized his gun, and ran out. I
threw my large cloak round me, struck a light, and followed him to the
door. The moment the latter was unclosed, some calves that we were rearing
rushed into the kitchen, closely followed by the larger beasts, who came
bellowing headlong down the hill, pursued by the bear.

It was a laughable scene, as shown by that paltry tallow-candle. Moodie,
in his night-shirt, taking aim at something in the darkness, surrounded by
the terrified animals; old Jenny, with a large knife in her hand, holding
on to the white skirts of her master's garment, making outcry loud enough
to frighten away all the wild beasts in the bush--herself almost in a
state of nudity.

"Och, maisther, dear! don't timpt the ill-conditioned crathur wid charging
too near; think of the wife and the childher. Let me come at the rampaging
baste, an' I'll stick the knife into the heart of him."

Moodie fired. The bear retreated up the clearing, with a low growl. Moodie
and Jenny pursued him some way, but it was too dark to discern any object
at a distance. I, for my part, stood at the open door, laughing until the
tears ran down my cheeks, at the glaring eyes of the oxen, their ears
erect, and their tails carried gracefully on a level with their backs, as
they stared at me and the light, in blank astonishment. The noise of the
gun had just roused John E____ from his slumbers. He was no less amused
than myself, until he saw that a fine yearling heifer was bleeding, and
found, upon examination, that the poor animal, having been in the claws of
the bear, was dangerously, if not mortally hurt.

"I hope," he cried, "that the brute has not touched my foal!" I pointed to
the black face of the filly peeping over the back of an elderly cow.

"You see, John, that Bruin preferred veal; there's your 'horsey,' as
Dunbar calls her, safe, and laughing at you."

Moodie and Jenny now returned from the pursuit of the bear. E____ fastened
all the cattle into the back yard, close to the house. By daylight he and
Moodie had started in chase of Bruin, whom they tracked by his blood some
way into the bush; but here he entirely escaped their search.

CHAPTER IX.

THE OUTBREAK.

THE long-protracted harvest was at length brought to a close. Moodie had
procured another ox from Dummer, by giving a note at six months' date for
the payment; and he and John E--- were in the middle of sowing their fall
crop of wheat, when the latter received a letter from the old country
which conveyed to him intelligence of the death of his mother, and of a
legacy of two hundred pounds. It was necessary for him to return to claim
the property, and though we felt his loss severely, we could not, without
great selfishness, urge him to stay. John had formed an attachment to a
young lady in the country, who, like himself, possessed no property. Their
engagement, which had existed several years, had been dropped, from its
utter hopelessness, by mutual consent. Still the young people continued to
love each other, and to look forward to better days, when their prospects
might improve so far that E--- would be able to purchase a bush farm, and
raise a house, however lowly, to shelter his Mary. He, like our friend
Malcolm, had taken a fancy to buy a part of our block of land, which he
could cultivate in partnership with Moodie, without being obliged to
hire, when the same barn, cattle, and implements would serve for both.
Anxious to free himself from the thraldom of debts which pressed him sore,
Moodie offered to part with two hundred acres at less than they cost us,
and the bargain was to be considered as concluded directly the money was
forthcoming.

It was a sorrowful day when our young friend left us; he had been a
constant inmate in the house for nice months, and not one unpleasant word
had ever passed between us. He had rendered our sojourn in the woods more
tolerable by his society, and sweetened our bitter lot by his friendship
and sympathy. We both regarded him as a brother, and parted with him with
sincere regret. As to old Jenny, she lifted up her voice and wept,
consigning him to the care and protection of all the saints in the Irish
calendar. For several days after John left us, a deep gloom pervaded the
house. Our daily toil was performed with less cheerfulness and alacrity;
we missed him at the evening board, and at the evening fire; and the
children asked each day, with increasing earnestness, when dear E____
would return.

Moodie continued sowing his fall wheat. The task was nearly completed, and
the chill October days were fast verging upon winter, when towards the
evening of one of them he contrived--I know not how--to crawl down from
the field at the head of the hill, faint and pale, and in great pain. He
had broken the small bone of his leg. In dragging, among the stumps, the
heavy machine (which is made in the form of the letter V, and is supplied
with large iron teeth) had hitched upon a stump, and being swung off again
by the motion of the oxen, had come with great force against his leg. At
first he was struck down, and for some time was unable to rise; but at
length he contrived to unyoke the team, and crawled partly on his hands
and knees down the clearing.

What a sad, melancholy evening that was! Fortune seemed never tired of
playing us some ugly trick. The hope which had so long sustained me seemed
about to desert me altogether; when I saw him on whom we all depended for
subsistence, and whose kindly voice ever cheered us under the pressure of
calamity, smitten down hopeless, all my courage and faith in the goodness
of the Divine Father seemed to forsake me, and I wept long and bitterly.

The next morning I went in search of a messenger to send to Peterborough
for the doctor; but though I found and sent the messenger, the doctor
never came. Perhaps he did not like to incur the expense of a fatiguing
journey with small chance of obtaining a sufficient remuneration.

Our dear sufferer contrived, with assistance, to bandage his leg; and
after the first week of rest had expired, he amused himself with making
a pair of crutches, and in manufacturing Indian paddles for the canoe,
axe-handles, and yokes for the oxen. It was wonderful with what serenity
he bore this unexpected affliction. Buried in the obscurity of those
woods, we knew nothing, heard nothing of the political state of the
country, and were little aware of the revolution which was about to work a
great change for us and for Canada.

The weather continued remarkably mild. The first great snow, which for
years had ordinarily fallen between the 10th and 15th of November, still
kept off. November passed on, and as all our firewood had to be chopped
by old Jenny during the lameness of my husband, I was truly grateful to
God for the continued mildness of the weather. On the 4th of December--
that great day of the outbreak--Moodie was determined to take advantage of
the open state of the lake to carry a large grist up to Y____'s mill. I
urged upon him the danger of a man attempting to manage a canoe in rapid
water, who was unable to stand without crutches; but Moodie saw that the
children would need bread, and he was anxious to make the experiment.

Finding that I could not induce him to give up the journey, I determined
to go with him. Old Wittals, who happened to come down that morning,
assisted in placing the bags of wheat in the little vessel, and helped to
place Moodie at the stern. With a sad, foreboding spirit I assisted to
push off from the shore. The air was raw and cold, but our sail was not
without its pleasure. The lake was very full from the heavy rains, and the
canoe bounded over the waters with a free, springy motion. A slight frost
had hung every little bush and spray along the shores with sparkling
crystals. The red pigeon-berries, shining through their coating of ice,
looked like cornelian beads set in silver, and strung from bush to bush.
We found the rapids at the entrance of Bessikakoon Lake very hard to stem,
and were so often carried back by the force of the water that, cold as the
air was, the great exertion which Moodie had to make use of to obtain the
desired object, brought the perspiration out in big drops upon his
forehead. His long confinement to the house and low diet had rendered him
very weak.

The old miller received us in the most hearty and hospitable manner; and
complimented me upon my courage in venturing upon the water in such cold,
rough weather. Norah was married, but the kind Betty provided us an
excellent dinner, while we waited for the grist to be ground.

It was near four o'clock when we started on our return. If there had been
danger in going up the stream, there was more in coming down. The wind had
changed, the air was frosty, keen, and biting and Moodie's paddle came up
from every dip into the water, loaded with ice. For my part, I had only to
sit still at the bottom of the canoe, as we floated rapidly down with wind
and tide. At the landing we were met by old Jenny, who had a long story to
tell us, of which we could make neither head nor tail--how some gentleman
had called during our absence, and left a large paper, all about the Queen
and the Yankees; that there was war between Canada and the States; that
Toronto had been burnt, and the governor killed, and I know no what ether
strange and monstrous statements. After much fatigue, Moodie climbed the
hill, and we were once more safe by our own, fireside. Here we found the
elucidation of Jenny's marvellous tales: a copy of the Queen's
proclamation, calling upon all loyal gentlemen to join in putting down
the unnatural rebellion.

A letter from my sister explained the nature of the outbreak, and the
astonishment with which the news had been received by all the settlers in
the bush. My brother and my sister's husband had already gone off to join
some of the numerous bands of gentlemen who were collecting from all
quarters to march to the aid of Toronto, which it was said was besieged by
the rebel force. She advised me not to suffer Moodie to leave home in his
present weak state; but the spirit of my husband was aroused, he instantly
obeyed what he considered the imperative call of duty, and told me to
prepare him a few necessaries, that he might be ready to start early in
the morning. Little sleep visited our eyes that night. We talked over tie
strange news for hours; our coming separation, and the probability that if
things were as bad as they appeared to be, we might never meet again. Our
affairs were in such a desperate condition that Moodie anticipated that
any change must be for the better; it was impossible for them to be worse.
But the poor, anxious wife thought only of a parting which to her put a
finishing stroke to all her misfortunes.

Before the cold, snowy morning broke, we were all stirring. The children,
who had learned that their father was preparing to leave them, were crying
and clinging round his knees. His heart was too deeply affected to eat;
the meal passed over in silence, and he rose to go. I put on my hat and
shawl to accompany him through the wood as far as my sister Mrs. T____'s.
The day was like our destiny, cold, dark, and lowering. I gave the dear
invalid his crutches, and we commenced our sorrowful walk. Then old
Jenny's lamentations burst forth, as, flinging her arms round my husband's
neck, she kissed and blessed him after the fashion of her country.

"Och hone! oeh hone!" she cried, wringing her hands, "masther dear, why
will jou lave the wife and the childher? The poor crathur is breakin' her
heart intirely at partin' wid you. Shore an' the war is nothin' to you,
that you must be goin' into danger; an' you wid a broken leg. Och hone!
Och hone! come back to your home--you will be kilt, and thin what will
become of the wife and the wee bairns?"

Her cries and lamentations followed us into the wood. At my sister's,
Moodie and I parted; and with a heavy heart I retraced my steps through
the wood. For once, I forgot all my fears. I never felt the cold. Sad
tears were flowing over my cheeks; when I entered the house, hope seemed
to have deserted me, and for upwards of an hour I lay upon the, bed and
wept. Poor Jenny did her best to comfort me, but all joy had vanished with
him who was my light of life. Left in the most absolute uncertainty as to
the real state of public affairs, I could only conjecture what might be
the result of this sudden outbreak. Several poor settlers called at the
house during the day, on their way down to Peterborough; but they brought
with them the most exaggerated accounts. There had been a battle, they
said, with the rebels, and the loyalists had been defeated; Toronto was
besieged by sixty thousand men, and all the men in the backwoods were
ordered to march instantly to the relief of the city.

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