Life in the Backwoods

S >> Susanna Moodie >> Life in the Backwoods

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"Very well in romance, but terribly dull in reality. We cannot, however,
call it a dry joke," continued she, wringing the rain from her dress. "I
wish we were suspended over Old Snow-storm's fire with the bull-frog, for
I hate a shower-bath with my clothes on."

I took warning by this adventure, never to cross the lake again without a
stronger arm than mine in the canoe to steer me safely through the
current.

I received much kind attention from my new neighbour, the Rev. W. W____, a
truly excellent and pious clergyman of the English Church. The good,
white-haired old man expressed the kindest sympathy in all my trials, and
strengthened me greatly with his benevolent counsels and gentle charity.
Mr. W____ was a true follower of Christ. His Christianity was not confined
to his own denomination; and every Sabbath his log cottage was filled with
attentive auditors, of all persuasions, who met together to listen to the
word of life delivered to them by a Christian minister in the wilderness.

He had been a very fine preacher, and though considerably turned of
seventy, his voice was still excellent, and his manner solemn-and
impressive.

His only son, a young man of twenty-eight years of age had received a
serious injury in the brain by falling upon a turf-spade from a loft
window when a child, and his intellect had remained stationary from that
time. Poor Harry was an innocent child; he loved his parents with the
simplicity of a child, and all who spoke kindly to him he regarded as
friends. Like most persons of his caste of mind, his predilection for pet
animals was a prominent instinct. He was always followed by two dogs, whom
he regarded with especial favour. The moment he caught your eye, he looked
down admiringly upon his four-footed attendants,--patting their sleek
necks, and murmuring, "Nice dogs--nice dogs." Harry had singled out myself
and my little ones as great favourites. He would gather flowers for the
girls, and catch butterflies for the boys; while to me he always gave the
title of "dear aunt."

It so happened that one fine morning I wanted to walk a couple of miles
through the bush, to spend the day with Mrs. C____; but the woods were
full of the cattle belonging to the neighbouring settlers, and of these I
was terribly afraid. Whilst I was dressing the little girls to accompany
me, Harry W____ came in with a message from his mother. "Oh," thought I,
"here is Harry W____. He will walk with us through the bush, and defend us
from the cattle."

The proposition was made, and Harry was not a little proud of being
invited to join our party. We had accomplished half the distance without
seeing a single hoof; and I was beginning to congratulate myself upon our
unusual luck, when a large red ox, maddened by the stings of the gadflies,
came headlong through the brush, tossing up the withered leaves and dried
moss with his horns, and making directly towards us. I screamed to my
champion for help; but where was he?--running like a frightened chissmunk
along the fallen timber, shouting to my eldest girl, at the top of his
voice,

"Run, Katty, run!--The bull, the bull! Run, Katty!--The bull, the bull!"--
leaving us poor creatures far behind in the chase.

The bull, who cared not one fig for us, did not even stop to give us a
passing stare, and was soon lost among the trees; while our valiant knight
never stopped to see what had become of us, but made the best of his way
home. So much for taking an innocent for a guard.

The next month most of the militia regiments were disbanded. My husband's
services were no longer required at P____, and he once more returned to
help to gather in our scanty harvest. Many of the old debts were paid off
by his hard-saved pay; and though all hope of continuing in the militia
service was at an end, our condition was so much improved that we looked
less to the dark than to the sunny side of the landscape.

The potato crop was gathered in, and I had collected my store of dandelion
roots for our winter supply of coffee, when one day brought a letter to my
husband from the Governor's secretary, offering him the situation of
sheriff of the V____ district. Though perfectly unacquainted with the
difficulties and responsibilities of such an important office, my husband
looked upon it as a gift sent from heaven to remove us from the sorrows
and poverty with which we were surrounded in the woods.

Once more he bade us farewell; but it was to go and make ready a home for
us, that we should no more be separated from each other.

Heartily did I return thanks to God that night for all his mercies to us;
and Sir George Arthur was not forgotten in those prayers.

From B____, my husband wrote to me to make what haste I could in disposing
of our crops, household furniture, stock, and farming implements; and to
prepare myself and the children to join him on the first fall of snow that
would make the roads practicable for sleighing. To facilitate this object,
he sent me a box of clothing, to make up for myself and the children.

For seven years I had lived out of the world entirely; my person had been
rendered coarse by hard work and exposure to the weather. I looked double
the age I really was, and my hair was already thickly sprinkled with gray.
I clung to my solitude. I did not like to be dragged from it to mingle in
gay scenes, in a busy town, and with gayly-dressed people. I was no longer
fit for the world; I had lost all relish for the pursuits and pleasures
which are so essential to its votaries; I was contented to live and die in
obscurity.

My dear Emilia rejoiced, like a true friend, in my changed prospects, and
came up to help me to cut clothes for the children, and to assist me in
preparing them for the journey.

I succeeded in selling off our goods and chattels much better than I
expected. My old friend, Mr. W____, who was a new comer, became the
principal purchaser, and when Christmas arrived I had not one article left
upon my hands save the bedding, which it was necessary to take with us.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE MAGIC SPELL.

Never did eager British children look for the first violets and primroses
of spring with more impatience than my baby boys and girls watched, day
after day, for the first snow-flakes that were to form the road to convey
them to their absent father.

"Winter never means to come this year. It will never snow again!"
exclaimed my eldest boy, turning from the window on Christmas-day, with
the most rueful aspect that ever greeted the broad, gay beams of the
glorious sun. It was like a spring day. The little lake in front of the
window glittered like a mirror of silver, set in its dark frame of pine
woods.

I, too, was wearying for the snow, and was tempted to think that it did
not come as early as usual, in order to disappoint us. But I kept this to
myself, and comforted the expecting child with the oft-repeated assertion
that it would certainly snow upon the morrow.

But the morrow came and passed away, and many other morrows, and the same
mild, open weather prevailed. The last night of the old year was ushered
in with furious storms of wind and snow; the rafters of our log cabin
shook beneath the violence of the gale, which swept up from the lake like
a lion roaring for its prey, driving the snow-flakes through every open
crevice, of which there were not a few, and powdering the floor until it
rivalled in whiteness the ground without.

"Oh, what a dreadful night!" we cried, as we huddled shivering, around the
old broken stove. "A person abroad in the woods to-night would be frozen.
Flesh and blood could not long stand this cutting wind."

"It reminds me of the commencement of a laughable extempore ditty," said I
to my young friend, A. C____, who was staying with me, "composed by my
husband, during the first very cold night we spent in Canada:

"Oh, the cold of Canada nobody knows,
The fire burns our shoes without warming our toes,
Oh, dear, what shall we do?
Our blankets are thin, and our noses are blue--
Our noses are blue, and our blankets are thin,
It's at zero without, and we're freezing within.
(_Chorus_.) Oh, dear, what shall we do?

"But, joking apart, my dear A____, we ought to be very thankful that we
are not travelling this night to B____."

"But to-morrow," said my eldest boy, lifting up his curly head from my
lap. "It will be fine to-morrow, and we shall see dear papa again."

In this hope he lay down on his little bed upon the floor, and was soon
fast asleep; perhaps dreaming of that eagerly-anticipated journey, and of
meeting his beloved father.

Sleep was a stranger to my eyes. The tempest raged so furiously without
that I was fearful the roof would be carried off the house, or that the
chimney would take fire. The night was far advanced when old Jenny and
myself retired to bed.

My boy's words were prophetic; that was the last night I ever spent in the
bush--in the dear forest home which I had loved in spite of all the
hardships which we had endured since we pitched our tent in the backwoods.
It was the birthplace of my three boys, the school of high resolve and
energetic action, in which we had learned to meet calmly, and successfully
to battle with, the ills of life. Nor did I leave it without many
regretful tears, to mingle once more with a world to whose usages, during
my long solitude. I had become almost a stranger, and to whose praise or
blame I felt alike indifferent.

When the day dawned, the whole forest scenery lay glittering in a mantle
of dazzling white; the sun shone brightly, the heavens were intensely
blue, but the cold was so severe that every article of food had to be
thawed before we could get our breakfast. The very blankets that covered
us during the night were stiff with our frozen breath. "I hope the sleighs
won't come to-day," I cried; "we should be frozen on the long journey."

About noon two sleighs turned into our clearing. Old Jenny ran screaming
into the room, "The masther has sent for us at last! The sleighs are come!
Fine large sleighs, and illigant teams of horses! Och, and it's a cowld
day for the wee things to lave the bush."

The snow had been a week in advance of us at B____, and my husband had
sent up the teams to remove us. The children jumped about, and laughed
aloud for joy. Old Jenny did not know whether to laugh or cry, but she set
about helping me to pack up trunks and bedding as fast as our cold hands
would permit.

In the midst of the confusion, my brother arrived, like a good genius, to
our assistance, declaring his determination to take us down to B____
himself in his large lumber-sleigh. This was indeed joyful news. In less
than three hours he despatched the hired sleighs with their loads, and we
all stood together in the empty house, striving to warm our hands over
the embers of the expiring fire.

How cold and desolate every object appeared! The windows, half blocked up
with snow, scarcely allowed a glimpse of the declining sun to cheer us
with his serene aspect. In spite of the cold, several kind friends had
waded through the deep snow to say, "God bless you!--Good-bye;" while a
group of silent Indians stood together, gazing upon our proceedings with
an earnestness which showed that they were not uninterested in the scene.
As we passed out to the sleigh, they pressed forward, and silently held
out their hands, while the squaws kissed me and the little ones with
tearful eyes. They had been true friends to us in our dire necessity, and
I returned their mute farewell from my very heart.

Mr. S____ sprang into the sleigh. One of our party was missing. "Jenny!"
shouted my brother, at the top of his voice, "it is too cold to keep your
mistress and the little children waiting."

"Och, shure thin, it is I that am comin'!" returned the old body, as she
issued from the house.

Shouts of laughter greeted her appearance. The figure she cut upon that
memorable day I shall never forget. My brother dropped the reins upon the
horses' necks, and fairly roared. Jenny was about to commence her journey
to the front in three hats. Was it to protect her from the cold? Oh, no;
Jenny was not afraid of the cold! She could have eaten her breakfast on
the north side of an iceberg, and always dispensed with shoes, during the
most severe of our Canadian winters. It was to protect these precious
articles from Injury.

Our good, neighbour, Mrs. W____, had presented her with an old sky-blue
drawn-silk bonnet, as a parting benediction. This, by way of distinction,
for she never had possessed such an article of luxury as a silk bonnet in
her life, Jenny had placed over the coarse calico cap, with its full
furbelow of the same yellow, ill-washed, homely material, next to her
head, over this, as second in degree, a sun-burnt straw hat, with faded
pink ribbons, just showed its broken rim and tawdry trimmings, and, to
crown all, and serve as a guard to the rest, a really serviceable gray
beaver bonnet, once mine, towered up as high as the celebrated crown in
which brother Peter figures in Swift's "Tale of a Tub."

"Mercy, Jenny! Why, old woman, you don't mean to go with us that figure?"

"Och, my dear heart! I've no bandbox to kape the cowld from desthroying my
illigant bonnets," returned Jenny, laying her hand upon the side of the
sleigh.

"Go back, Jenny; go back," cried my brother. "For God's sake take all that
tomfoolery from off your head. We shall be the laughing-stock of every
village we pass through."

"Och, shure now, Mr. S____, who'd think of looking at an owld crathar like
me! It's only yorsel' that would notice the like."

"All the world, every body would look at you, Jenny. I believe that you
put on those hats to draw the attention of all the young fellows that we
shall happen to meet on the road. Ha, Jenny!"

With an air of offended dignity, the old woman returned to the house to
rearrange her toilet, and provide for the safety of her "illigant
bonnets," one of which she suspended to the strings of her cloak, while
she carried the third dangling in her hand; and no persuasion of mine
would induce her to put them out of sight.

Many painful and conflicting emotions agitated my mind, but found no
utterance in words, as we entered the forest path, and I looked my last
upon that humble home consecrated by the memory of a thousand sorrows.
Every object had become endeared to me during my long exile from civilized
life. I loved the lonely lake, with its magnificent belt of dark pines
sighing in the breeze; the cedar swamp, the summer home of my dark Indian
friends; my own dear little garden, with its rugged snake-fence, which I
had helped Jenny to place with my own hands, and which I had assisted the
faithful woman in cultivating for the last three years, where I had so
often braved the tormenting mosquitoes, black-flies, and intense heat, to
provide vegetables for the use of the family. Even the cows, that had
given a breakfast for the last time to my children, were now regarded with
mournful affection. A poor labourer stood in the doorway of the deserted
house, holding my noble water-dog, Rover, in a string. The poor fellow
gave a joyous bark as my eyes fell upon him.

"James J____, take care of my dog."

"Never fear, ma'am, he shall bide with me as long as he lives."

"He and the Indians at least feel grieved for our departure," I thought.
Love is so scarce in this world that we ought to prize it, however lowly
the source from whence it flows.

We accomplished only twelve miles of our journey that night. The road lay
through the bush, and along the banks of the grand, rushing, foaming
Otonabee river, the wildest and most beautiful of forest streams. We slept
at the house of kind friends, and early in the morning resumed our long
journey, but minus one of our party. Our old favourite cat, Peppermint,
had made her escape from the basket in which she had been confined, and
had scampered off, to the great grief of the children.

As we passed Mrs. H____'s house, we called for dear Addie. Mr. H____
brought her in his arms to the gate, well wrapped up in a large fur cape
and a warm woollen shawl.

"You are robbing me of my dear little girl," he said. "Mrs. H____ is
absent; she told me not to part with her if you should call; but I could
not detain her without your consent. Now that you have seen her, allow me
to keep her for a few months longer!"

Addie was in the sleigh. I put my arm around her. I felt I had my child
again, and I secretly rejoiced in the possession of my own. I sincerely
thanked him for his kindness, and Mr. S____ drove on.

At Mr. R____'s, we found a parcel from dear Emilia, containing a plum-cake
and other good things for the children Her kindness never flagged.

We crossed the bridge over the Otonabee, in the rising town of
Peterborough, at eight o'clock in the morning. Winter had now set in
fairly. The children were glad to huddle together in the bottom of the
sleigh, under the buffalo skins and blankets; all but my eldest boy, who,
just turned of five years old, was enchanted with all he heard and saw,
and continued to stand up and gaze around him. Born in the forest, which
he had never quitted before, the sight of a town was such a novelty that
he could find no words wherewith to express his astonishment.

"Are the houses come to see one another?" he asked. "How did they all meet
here?"

The question greatly amused his uncle, who took some pains to explain to
him the difference between town and country. During the day, we got rid of
old Jenny and her bonnets, whom we found a very refractory travelling
companion; as wilful, and far more difficult to manage than a young child.
Fortunately, we overtook the sleighs with the furniture, and Mr. S____
transferred Jenny to the care of one of the drivers; an arrangement that
proved satisfactory to all parties.

We had been most fortunate in obtaining comfortable lodgings for the
night. The evening had closed in so intensely cold, that although we were
only two miles from C____ Addie was so much affected by it that the child
lay sick and pale in my arms, and, when spoken to, seemed scarcely
conscious of our presence.

My brother jumped from the front seat, and came round to look at her.
"That child is ill with the cold; we must stop somewhere to warm her, or
she will hardly hold out till we get to the inn at C____."

We were just entering the little village of A____, in the vicinity of the
court-house, and we stopped at a pretty green cottage, and asked
permission to warm the children. A stout, middle-aged woman came to the
sleigh, and in the kindest manner requested us to alight.

"I think I know that voice," I said. "Surely it cannot be Mrs. S____, who
once kept the ____ hotel at C____?"

"Mrs. Moodie, you are welcome," said the excellent woman, bestowing upon
me a most friendly embrace; "you and your children. I am heartily glad to
see you again after so many years. God bless you all!"

Nothing could exceed the kindness and hospitality of this generous woman;
she would not hear of our leaving her that night, and, directing my
brother to put up his horses in her stable, she made up an excellent fire
in a large bedroom, and helped me to undress the little ones who were
already asleep, and to warm and feed the rest before we put them to bed.

This meeting gave me real pleasure. In their station of life, I seldom
have found a more worthy couple than this American and his wife; and,
having witnessed so many of their acts of kindness, both to ourselves and
others, I entertained for them a sincere respect and affection, and truly
rejoiced that Providence had once more led me to the shelter of their
roof.

Mr. S____ was absent, but I found little Mary--the sweet child who used to
listen with such delight to Moodie's flute--grown up into a beautiful
girl; and the baby that was, a fine child of eight years old. The next
morning was so intensely cold that my brother would not resume the journey
until past ten o'clock, and even then it was a hazardous experiment.

We had not proceeded four miles before the horses were covered with
icicles. Our hair was frozen as white as Old Time's solitary forelock, our
eyelids stiff, and every limb aching with cold.

"This will never do," said my brother, turning to me; "the children will
freeze. I never felt the cold more severe than this."

"Where can we stop?" said I; "we are miles from C____, and I see no
prospect of the weather becoming milder."

"Yes, yes; I know, by the very intensity of the cold, that a change is at
hand. We seldom have more than three very severe days running, and this is
the third. At all events, it is much warmer at night in this country than
during the day; the wind drops, and the frost is more bearable. I know a
worthy farmer who lives about a mile ahead; he will give us house-room for
a few hours, and we will resume our journey in the evening. The moon is at
full; and it will be easier to wrap the children up, and keep them warm
when they are asleep. Shall we stop at Old Woodruff's?"

"With all my heart." My teeth were chattering with the cold, and the
children were crying over their aching fingers at the bottom of the
sleigh.

A few minutes' ride brought us to a large farm-house, surrounded by
commodious sheds and barns. A fine orchard opposite, and a yard well
stocked with fat cattle and sheep, sleek geese, and plethoric-looking
swine, gave promise of a land of abundance and comfort. My brother ran
into the house to see if the owner was at home, and presently returned,
accompanied by the staunch Canadian yeoman and his daughter, who gave us a
truly hearty welcome, and assisted in removing the children from the
sleigh to the cheerful fire, that made all bright and cozy within.

Our host was a shrewd, humorous-looking Yorkshireman. His red, weather
beaten face, and tall, athletic, figure, bent as it was with hard labour,
gave indications of great personal strength; and a certain knowing twinkle
in his small, clear gray eyes, which had been acquired by long dealing
with the world, with a quiet, sarcastic smile that lurked round the
corners of his large mouth, gave you the idea of a man who could not
easily be deceived by his fellows; one who, though no rogue himself, was
quick in detecting the roguery of others. His manners were frank and easy,
and he was such a hospitable entertainer that you felt at home with him in
a minute.

"Well, how are you, Mr. S____?" cried the farmer, shaking my brother
heartily by the hand. "Toiling in the bush still, eh?"

"Just in the same place."

"And the wife and children?"

"Hearty. Some half-dozen have been added to the flock since you were our
way."

"So much the better--so much the better. The more the merrier, Mr. S____;
children are riches in this country."

"I know not how that may be; I find it hard to clothe and feed mine."

"Wait till they grow up; they will be brave helps to you then. The price
of labour--the price of labour, Mr. S____, is the destruction of the
farmer."

"It does not seem to trouble you much, Woodruff" said my brother, glancing
round the well-furnished apartment.

"My son and S____ do it all," cried the old man. "Of course the girls help
in busy times, and take care of the dairy, and we hire occasionally; but
small as the sum is which is expended in wages during seed-time and
harvest, I feel it, I can tell you."

"You are married again, Woodruff?"

"No, sir," said the farmer, with a peculiar smile; "not yet;" which seemed
to imply the probability of such an event. "That tall gal is my eldest
daughter; she manages the house, and an excellent housekeeper she is. But
I cannot keep her for ever." With a knowing wink. "Gals will think of
getting married, and seldom consult the wishes of their parents upon the
subject when once they have taken the notion into their heads. But 'tis
natural, Mr. S____, it is natural; we did just the same when we were
young."

My brother looked laughingly towards the fine, handsome young woman,
as she placed upon the table hot water, whiskey, and a huge plate of
plum-cake, which did not lack a companion, stored with the finest apples
which the orchard could produce.

The young girl looked down, and blushed.

"Oh, I see how it is, Woodruff! You will soon lose your daughter. I wonder
that you have kept her so long. But who are these young ladies?" he
continued, as three girls very demurely entered the room.

"The two youngest are my darters, by my last wife, who, I fear, mean soon
to follow the bad example of their sister. The other _lady_," said the old
man, with a reverential air, "is a _particular_ friend of my eldest
darter's."

My brother laughed slyly, and the old man's cheek took a deeper glow as he
stooped forward to mix the punch.

"You said that these two young ladies, Woodruff, were by your last wife.
Pray how many wives have you had?"

"Only three. It is impossible, they say in my country, to have too much of
a good thing."

"So I suppose you think," said my brother, glancing first at the old man
and then towards Miss Smith. "Three wives! You have been a fortunate man,
Woodruff, to survive them all."

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