Canadian Crusoes by Catherine Parr Traill

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Louis had heard so much of the Otonabee river from Indiana, that he was
impatient to go and explore the entrance, and the shores of the lake on
that side, which hitherto they had not ventured to do for fear of being
surprised by the Indians. "Some fine day," said Louis, "we will go out in
the canoe, explore the distant islands, and go up the river a little way."

Hector advised visiting all the islands by turns, beginning at the little
islet which looks in the distance like a boat in full sail; it is level
with the water, and has only three or four trees upon it. The name they had
given to it was "Ship Island." The Indians have some name for it which I
have forgotten; but it means, I have been told, "Witch Island." Hector's
plan met with general approbation, and they resolved to take provisions
with them for several days, and visit the islands and go up the river,
passing the night under the shelter of the thick trees on the shore
wherever they found a pleasant halting-place.

The weather was mild and warm, the lake was as clear and calm as a mirror,
and in joyous mood our little party embarked and paddled up the lake, first
to Ship Island, but this did not detain them many minutes; they then went
to Grape Island, which they so named from the abundance of wild vines, now
rich with purple clusters of the ripe grapes,--tart, but still not to be
despised by our young adventurers; and they brought away a large birch
basket heaped up with the fruit. "Ah, if we had but a good cake of maple
sugar, now, to preserve our grapes with, and make such grape jelly as my
mother makes!" said Louis.

"If we find out a sugar-bush we will manage to make plenty of sugar," said
Catharine; "there are maples not two hundred yards from the shanty, near
the side of the steep bank to the east. You remember the pleasant spot
which we named the Happy Valley, [Footnote: A lovely valley to the east of
Mount Ararat, now belonging to a worthy and industrious family of the name
of Brown. I wish Hector could see it as it now is,--a cultivated fertile
farm.] where the bright creek runs, dancing along so merrily, below the
pine-ridge?"

"Oh, yes, the same that winds along near the foot of Bare-hill, where the
water-cresses grow."

"Yes, where I gathered the milk-weed the other day."

"What a beautiful pasture-field that will make, when it is cleared!" said
Hector, thoughtfully.

"Hector is always planning about fields, and clearing great farms," said
Louis, laughing. "We shall see Hec a great man one of these days; I think
he has in his own mind brushed, and burned, and logged up all the fine
flats and table-land on the plains before now, ay, and cropped it all with
wheat, and peas, and Indian corn."

"We will have a clearing and a nice field of corn next year, if we live,"
replied Hector; "that corn that we found in the canoe will be a treasure."

"Yes, and the corn-cob you got on Bare-hill," said Catherine. "How lucky
we have been! We shall be so happy when we see our little field of corn
flourishing round the shanty! It was a good thing, Hec, that you went to
the Indian camp that day, though both Louis and I were very miserable while
you were absent; but you see, God must have directed you, that the life
of this poor girl might be saved, to be a comfort to us. Everything has
prospered well with us since she came to us. Perhaps it is because we try
to make a Christian of her, and so God blesses all our endeavours."

"We are told," said Hector, "that there is joy with the angels of God over
one sinner that repenteth; doubtless, it is a joyful thing when the heathen
that knew not the name of God are taught to glorify his holy name."

Indiana, while exploring, had captured a porcupine; she declared that she
should have plenty of quills for edging baskets and mocassins; beside, she
said, the meat was white and good to eat. Hector looked with a suspicious
eye upon the little animal, doubting the propriety of eating its flesh,
though he had learned to eat musk rats, and consider them good meat, baked
in Louis's Indian oven, or roasted on a forked stick, before the fire. The
Indian porcupine is a small animal, not a very great deal larger than the
common British hedgehog; the quills, however, are longer and stronger, and
varied with alternate clouded marks of pure white and dark brownish grey;
they are minutely barbed, so that if one enters the flesh it is with
difficulty extracted, but will work through of itself in an opposite
direction, and can then be easily pulled out. Dogs and cattle often suffer
great inconvenience from getting their muzzles filled with the quills of
the porcupine, the former when worrying the poor little animal, and
the latter by accidentally meeting a dead one among the herbage; great
inflammation will sometimes attend the extraction. Indians often lose
valuable hounds from this cause. Beside porcupines, Indiana told her
companions, there were some fine butter-nut trees on the island, and they
could collect a bag full in a very short time. This was good news, for the
butter-nut is sweet and pleasant, almost equal to the walnut, of which it
is a species. The day was passed pleasantly enough in collecting nuts and
grapes; but as this island did not afford any good cleared spot for passing
the night, and, moreover, was tenanted by black snakes, several of which
made their appearance among the stones near the edge of the water, they
agreed by common council to go to Long Island, where Indiana said there was
an old log-house, the walls of which were still standing, and where there
was dry moss in plenty, which would make them a comfortable bed for the
night. This old log-house she said had been built, she heard the Indians
say, by a French Canadian trapper, who used to visit the lake some years
ago; he was on friendly terms with the chiefs, who allowed him many
privileges, and he bought their furs, and took them down the lake, through
the river Trent, to some station-house on the great lake. They found they
should have time enough to land and deposit their nuts and grapes and
paddle to Long Island before sunset. Upon the western part of this fine
island they had several times landed and passed some hours, exploring its
shores; but Indiana told them, to reach the old log-house they must enter
the low swampy bay to the east, at an opening which she called Indian Cove.
To do this required some skill in the management of the canoe, which was
rather over-loaded for so light a vessel; and the trees grew so close and
thick that they had some difficulty in pushing their way through them
without injuring its frail sides. These trees or bushes were chiefly black
elder, high-bush cranberries, dogwood, willows, and, as they proceeded
further, and there was ground of a more solid nature, cedar, poplar, swamp
oak, and soft maple, with silver birch and wild cherries. Long strings of
silvery-grey tree-moss hung dangling over their heads, the bark and roots
of the birch and cedars were covered with a luxuriant growth of green moss,
but there was a dampness and closeness in this place that made it far from
wholesome, and the little band of voyagers were not very sorry when the
water became too shallow to admit of the canoe making its way through the
swampy channel, and they landed on the banks of a small circular pond, as
round as a ring, and nearly surrounded by tall trees, hoary with moss and
lichens; large water-lilies floated on the surface of this miniature lake,
and the brilliant red berries of the high-bush cranberry, and the purple
clusters of grapes, festooned the trees.

"A famous breeding place this must be for ducks," observed Louis.

"And for flowers," said Catharine, "and for grapes and cranberries. There
is always some beauty or some usefulness to be found, however lonely the
spot."

"A fine place for musk-rats, and minks, and fishes," said Hector, looking
round. "The old trapper knew what he was about when he made his lodge near
this pond. And there, sure enough, is the log-hut, and not so bad a
one either," and scrambling up the bank he entered the deserted little
tenement, well pleased to find it in tolerable repair. There were the
ashes on the stone hearth, just as it had been left years back by the old
trapper; some rough hewn shelves, a rude bedstead of cedar poles still
occupied a corner of the little dwelling; heaps of old dry moss and grass
lay upon the ground; and the little squaw pointed with one of her silent
laughs to a collection of broken egg-shells, where some wild duck had sat
and hatched her downy brood among the soft materials which she had found
and appropriated to her own purpose. The only things pertaining to the
former possessor of the log-hut were an old, rusty, battered tin pannikin,
now, alas! unfit for holding water; a bit of a broken earthen whisky jar; a
rusty nail, which Louis pounced upon, and pocketed, or rather pouched,--for
he had substituted a fine pouch of deer-skin for his worn-out pocket; and
a fishing-line of good stout cord, which was wound on a splinter of red
redar, and carefully stuck between one of the rafters and the roof of the
shanty. A rusty but efficient hook was attached to the line, and Louis,
who was the finder, was quite overjoyed at his good fortune in making so
valuable an addition to his fishing-tackle. Hector got only an odd worn-out
mocassin, which he chucked into the little pond in disdain; while Catharine
declared she would keep the old tin pot as a relic, and carefully deposited
it in the canoe.

As they made their way into the interior of the island, they found that
there were a great many fine sugar maples which had been tapped by some
one, as the boys thought, by the old trapper; but Indiana, on examining the
incisions in the trees, and the remnants of birch-bark vessels that lay
mouldering on the earth below them, declared them to have been the work
of her own people; and long and sadly did the young girl look upon these
simple memorials of a race of whom she was the last living remnant. The
young girl stood there in melancholy mood, a solitary, isolated being, with
no kindred tie upon the earth to make life dear to her; a stranger in the
land of her fathers, associating with those whose ways were not her ways,
nor their thoughts her thoughts; whose language was scarcely known to her,
whose God was not the God of her fathers. Yet the dark eyes of the Indian
girl were not dimmed with tears as she thought of these things; she had
learned of her people to suffer, and be still.

Silent and patient she stood, with her melancholy gaze bent on the earth,
when she felt the gentle hand of Catharine laid upon her arm, and then
kindly and lovingly passed round her neck, as she whispered,--

"Indiana, I will be to you as a sister, and will love you and cherish you,
because you are an orphan girl, and alone in the world; but God loves you,
and will make you happy. He is a Father to the fatherless, and the Friend
of the destitute, and to them that have no helper."

The words of kindness and love need no interpretation; no book-learning is
necessary to make them understood. The young, the old, the deaf, the dumb,
the blind, can read this universal language; its very silence is often more
eloquent than words--the gentle pressure of the hand, the half-echoed sigh,
the look of sympathy will penetrate to the very heart, and unlock its
hidden stores of human tenderness and love. The rock is smitten and the
waters gush forth, a bright and living stream, to refresh and fertilize the
thirsty soul. The heart of the poor mourner was touched; she bowed down her
head upon the hand that held her so kindly in its sisterly grasp, and wept
soft sweet human tears full of grateful love, while she whispered, in her
own low plaintive voice, "My white sister, I kiss you in my heart; I will
love the God of my white brothers, and be his child."

The two friends now busied themselves in preparing the evening meal: they
found Louis and Hector had lighted up a charming blaze on the desolate
hearth. A few branches of cedar twisted together by Catharine, made a
serviceable broom, with which she swept the floor, giving to the deserted
dwelling a neat and comfortable aspect; some big stones were quickly rolled
in, and made to answer for seats in the chimney corner. The new-found
fishing-line was soon put into requisition by Louis, and with very little
delay a fine dish of black bass, broiled on the coals, was added to their
store of dried venison and roasted bread-roots, which they found in
abundance on a low spot on the island. Grapes and butternuts which Hector
cracked with stones by way of nut-crackers, finished their sylvan meal. The
boys stretched themselves to sleep on the ground, with their feet, Indian
fashion, to the fire; while the two girls occupied the mossy couch which
they had newly spread with fragrant cedar and hemlock boughs.

The next island that claimed their attention was Sugar-Maple Island,
[Footnote: Sugar Island, a charming object from the picturesque cottage
of Alfred Hayward, Esq.] a fine, thickly-wooded island, rising with steep
rocky banks from the water. A beautiful object, but too densely wooded to
admit of our party penetrating beyond a few yards of its shores.

The next island they named the Beaver, [Footnote: The Beaver, commonly
called Sheep Island, from some person having pastured a few sheep upon it
some few years ago. I have taken the liberty of preserving the name, to
which it bears an obvious resemblance; the nose of the Beaver lies towards
the west, the tail to the east. This island is nearly opposite to Gore's
Landing, and forms a pleasing object from the windows and verandah of
Claverton, the house of my esteemed friend, William Falkner, Esq., the
Patriarch of the Plains, as he has often been termed; one of the only
residents on the Rice Lake plains for many years; one of the few gentlemen
who had taste enough to be charmed with this lovely tract of country, and
to appreciate its agricultural resources, which, of late, have been so
fully developed.] from its resemblance in shape to that animal. A fine,
high, oval island beyond this they named Black Island, [Footnote: Black
Island, the sixth from the head of the lake; an oval island, remarkable for
its evergreens.] from its dark evergreens; the next was that which seemed
most to excite the interest of their Indian guide, although but a small
stony island, scantily clothed with trees, lower down the lake. This place
she called Spooke Island, [Footnote: Appendix H.] which means in the
Indian tongue, a place for the dead; it is sometimes called Spirit Island,
and here, in times past, used the Indian people to bury their dead. The
island is now often the resort of parties of pleasure, who, from its being
grassy and open, find it more available than those which are densely
wooded. The young Mohawk regarded it with feelings of superstitious awe,
and would not suffer Hector to land the canoe on its rocky shores.

"It is a place of spirits," she said; "the ghosts of my fathers will be
angry if we go there." Even her young companions felt that, they were upon
sacred ground, and gazed with silent reverence upon the burial isle.

Strongly imbued with a love of the marvellous, which they had derived from
their Highland origin, Indiana's respect for the spirits of her ancestors
was regarded as most natural, and in silence, as if fearing to disturb the
solemnity of the spot, they resumed their paddles, and after awhile reached
the mouth of the river Otonabee, which was divided into two separate
channels by a long, low point of swampy land covered with stunted, mossy
bushes and trees, rushes, driftwood, and aquatic plants. Indiana told
them this river flowed from the north, and that it was many days' journey
up to the lakes; to illustrate its course, she drew with her paddle a long
line with sundry curves and broader spaces, some longer, some smaller, with
Bays and inlets, which she gave them to understand were the chain of lakes
that she spoke of. There were beautiful hunting grounds on the borders of
these lakes, and many fine water-falls and rocky islands; she had been
taken up to these waters during the time of her captivity. The Ojebwas, she
said, were a branch of the great Chippewa nation, who owned much land and
great waters thereabouts.

Compared with the creeks and streams that they had seen hitherto, the
Otonabee appeared a majestic river, and an object of great admiration and
curiosity, for it seemed to them as if it were the high road leading up
to an unknown far-off land--a land of dark, mysterious, impenetrable
forests,--flowing on, flowing on, in lonely majesty, reflecting on its
tranquil bosom the blue sky, the dark pines, and grey cedars,--the pure
ivory water-lily, and every passing shadow of bird or leaf that flitted
across its surface--so quiet was the onward flow of its waters.

A few brilliant leaves yet lingered on the soft maples and crimson-tinted
oaks, but the glory of the forest had departed; the silent fall of many a
sear and yellow leaf told of the death of summer and of winter's coming
reign. Yet the air was wrapt in a deceitful stillness; no breath of wind
moved the trees or dimpled the water. Bright wreaths of scarlet berries and
wild grapes hung in festoons among the faded foliage. The silence of the
forest was unbroken, save by the quick tapping of the little midland
wood-pecker, or the shrill scream of the blue jay; the whirring sound of
the large white and grey duck, (called by the frequenters of these lonely
waters the whistle-wing,) as its wings swept the waters in its flight; or
the light dripping of the paddle;--so still, so quiet was the scene.

As the day was now far advanced, the Indian girl advised them either to
encamp for the night on the river bank, or to use all speed in returning.
She seemed to view the aspect of the heavens with some anxiety. Vast
volumes of light copper-tinted clouds were rising, the sun seen through its
hazy veil looked red and dim, and a hot sultry air unrelieved by a breath
of refreshing wind oppressed our young voyagers; and though the same
coppery clouds and red sun had been seen for several successive days, a
sort of instinctive feeling prompted the desire in all to return; and after
a few minutes' rest and refreshment, they turned their little bark towards
the lake; and it was well that they did so: by the time they had reached
the middle of the lake, the stillness of the air was rapidly changing.
The rose-tinted clouds that had lain so long piled upon each other in
mountainous ridges, began to move upwards, at first slowly, then with
rapidly accelerated motion. There was a hollow moaning in the pine tops,
and by fits a gusty breeze swept the surface of the water, raising it into
rough, short, white-crested ridges.

These signs were pointed out by Indiana as the harbinger of a rising
hurricane; and now a swift spark of light like a falling star glanced on
the water, as if there to quench its fiery light. Again the Indian girl
raised her dark hand and pointed to the rolling storm-clouds, to the
crested, waters and the moving pine tops; then to the head of the Beaver
Island--it was the one nearest to them. With an arm of energy she wielded
the paddle, with an eye of fire she directed the course of their little
vessel, for well she knew their danger and the need for straining every
nerve to reach the nearest point of land. Low muttering peals of thunder
were now heard, the wind was rising with electric speed. Away flew the
light bark, with the swiftness of a bird, over the water; the tempest was
above, around and beneath. The hollow crash of the forest trees as they
bowed to the earth could be heard, sullenly sounding from shore to shore.
And now the Indian girl, flinging back her black streaming hair from her
brow, knelt at the head of the canoe, and with renewed vigour plied the
paddle. The waters, lashed into a state of turbulence by the violence of
the storm, lifted the canoe up and down, but no word was spoken--they each
felt the greatness of the peril, but they also knew that they were in the
hands of Him who can say to the tempest-tossed waves, "Peace, be still,"
and they obey Him.

Every effort was made to gain the nearest island; to reach the mainland
was impossible, for the rain poured down a blinding deluge; it was with
difficulty the little craft was kept afloat, by baling out the water; to do
this, Louis was fain to use his cap, and Catharine assisted with the old
tin-pot which she had fortunately brought from the trapper's shanty.

The tempest was at its height when they reached the nearest point of the
Beaver, and joyful was the grating sound of the canoe as it was vigorously
pushed up on the shingly beach, beneath the friendly shelter of the
overhanging trees, where, perfectly exhausted by the exertions they had
made, dripping with rain and overpowered by the terrors of the storm,
they threw themselves on the ground, and in safety watched its
progress--thankful for an escape from such imminent peril.

Thus ended the Indian summer--so deceitful in its calmness and its beauty.
The next day saw the ground white with snow, and hardened into stone by a
premature frost. Our poor voyagers were not long in quitting the shelter of
the Beaver Island, and betaking them once more to their ark of refuge--the
log-house on Mount Ararat.

The winter, that year, set in with unusual severity some weeks sooner than
usual, so that from the beginning of November to the middle of April the
snow never entirely left the ground. The lake was soon covered with ice,
and by the month of December it was one compact solid sheet from shore to
shore.

CHAPTER X.

"Scared by the red and noisy light."--COLERIDGE.

Hector and Louis had now little employment, excepting chopping fire-wood,
which was no very arduous task for two stout healthy lads, used from
childhood to handling the axe. Trapping, and hunting, and snaring hares,
were occupations which they pursued more for the excitement and exercise
than from hunger, as they had laid by abundance of dried, venison, fish,
and birds, besides a plentiful store of rice. They now visited those trees
that they had marked in the summer, where they had noticed the bees hiving,
and cut them down; in one they got more than a pailful of rich honey-comb,
and others yielded some more, some less; this afforded them a delicious
addition to their boiled rice, and dried acid fruits. They might have
melted the wax, and burned candles of it; but this was a refinement of
luxury that never once occurred to our young house-keepers: the dry pine
knots that are found in the woods are the settlers' candles; but Catharine
made some very good vinegar with the refuse of the honey and combs, by
pouring water on it, and leaving it to ferment in a warm nook of the
chimney, in one of the birch-bark vessels, and this was an excellent
substitute for salt as a seasoning to the fresh meat and fish. Like the
Indians, they were now reconciled to the want of this seasonable article.

Indiana seemed to enjoy the cold weather; the lake, though locked up to
every one else, was open to her; with the aid of the tomahawk she patiently
made an opening in the ice, and over this she built a little shelter of
pine boughs stuck into the ice. Armed with a sharp spear carved out of
hardened wood, she would lie upon the ice and patiently await the rising
of some large fish to the air-hole, when dexterously plunging it into the
unwary creature, she dragged it to the surface. Many a noble fish did the
young squaw bring home, and lay at the feet of him whom she had tacitly
elected as her lord and master; to him she offered the voluntary service of
a faithful and devoted servant--I might almost have said, slave.

During the middle of December there were some days of such intense cold,
that even our young Crusoes, hardy as they were, preferred the blazing
log-fire and warm ingle nook, to the frozen lake and cutting north-west
wind which blew the loose snow in blinding drifts over its bleak,
unsheltered surface. Clad in the warm tunic and petticoat of Indian blanket
with fur-lined mocassins, Catharine and her Indian friend felt little cold
excepting to the face when they went abroad, unless the wind was high, and
then experience taught them to keep at home. And these cold gloomy days
they employed in many useful works. Indiana had succeeded in dyeing the
quills of the porcupine that she had captured on Grape Island; with these
she worked a pair of beautiful mocassins and an arrow case for Hector,
besides making a sheath for Louis's _couteau-du-chasse_, of which the young
hunter was very proud, bestowing great praise on the workmanship.

Indiana appeared to be deeply engrossed with some work that she was engaged
in, but preserved a provoking degree of mystery about it, to the no
small annoyance of Louis, who, among his other traits of character, was
remarkably inquisitive, wanting to know the why and wherefore of everything
he saw.

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