A WINTER'S JOURNEY.

BY S. D. HUYGHUE.

In the autumn of 1843 I was encamped at the mouth of the Little Black River, a tributary of the Upper St. John. I had accompanied the party sent out by Government, under Colonel Bucknall Estcourt, to run a line of boundary between the United States and the British Provinces, pursuant to the Treaty of Washington, concluded by Lord Ashburton in the previous year.

In the month of June we left Fredericton, the capital of New Brunswick, and had gradually worked on in this direction, surveying, cutting, and forcing a way by every available means, up the impeded channel of the river, which had to be deepened, at times, before the tow-boats laden with our stores could be dragged over the shallow-bars. Occasionally, also, a décharge was requisite at some stronger rapid, that often flung the horses heels over head backwards into the stream, and gave the rider a swim for his life ere he could reach land.

At this point, however, an insuperable obstacle presented itself to any further progress with that species of craft, in the shape of a wild rapid, three miles in length, and filled with boulders. So I landed everything, secured them under canvas, and pitched my tent on the shore, within a stone's throw of the last house on the St. John.

Here I remained for fifty-six days, during which time the different parties passed up in bateaux* and canoes, to their several stations above as far as Lake Isheganelshegek, on the north-west branch of the St. John; while forty men were sent to St. Thomas's, on the St. Lawrence, by the route of Riviere du Loup, to open a road thirty-five miles across the hills to that place. Meanwhile, the country above being a perfect wilderness, only traversed by a few roving Indians, these parties on the river were obliged to be provisioned from my post, a service of extreme difficulty; for, so shallow was the water become, that the bateaux-men had to drag the loads almost the entire way to the furthest station, and as they were usually more than a week on the journey, they managed to reduce them about one-half in bulk by their own consumption. Several canoes containing American officers and men-for it was a joint commission-likewise passed, on their return from the forks of the river, with the loss of divers knapsacks, axes, and utensils, in the rapids. These belonged to a detachment of soldiers sent to serve as woodsmen and canoemen-a plan that failed.

The season closed rapidly. The leaves, tinted with the richest Winter birds, of crimson and orange, were whirled from the trees. the same brilliant hues-cross-bills-flocked about the tents. Ice began to show itself in the river, now swollen by heavy rains, and several sharp flurries of snow warned me that there was to be no Indian summer, and that the sooner I was away the better. Bears and moose also began to show themselves on the neighbouring shores while beating up for winter-quarters, and some Indians, with

* Flat-bottomed skiffs, with a wide spread, and sharp at the ends. They are made sufficiently light to be "portaged," if necessary; that is, carried by two men round impassable places.

a package of beaver-skins from the hunting-grounds above, paddled down en route to Madawaska.

At length, two bateaux were sent to carry me to my future station and after seeing the settler's crop of potatoes frozen in the ground, and four inches of snow packed hard upon it, on the 26th of October I loaded my birch canoe with what little property I had, and accompanied by the boats, deeply freighted with tents and provision, commenced my journey.

Light, supple poles, shod with iron, are used to propel small craft up the St. John, and it is wonderful to witness the skill with which a practical hand will guide his unsteady canoe up the swiftest rapids by this means; though standing aft and without knowing where to plant the pointed ferule which the next instant may slip on the rugged bottom and upset him. But this is a difficult art, known to few besides the people on the Penobscot and St. John.

The flooded state of the stream was such that with all the force the men could use they were barely able to ascend the great rapid before mentioned, which for a distance of three miles wound in a dark gorge through which the river had cut its way, and in the very midst, one of the bateaux swung broadside to the torrent, and its crew were obliged to jump out up to their waist, and hold on with all their strength, to prevent it from being swamped and carried away. Everything by this time was covered with icicles, and the temperature of the water below the freezing point. We went few miles that day, and when the light began to fail landed in a convenient spot, and while some shovelled away the snow with their paddles and pitched the tents, others lit fires and gathered fir branches for the beds; thus we made ourselves comfortable for the night.

A party of Canadian Voyageurs from the Hudson Bay Company sent by Sir George Simpson, had joined the Boundary Commission at the Grand Falls, and two of those extraordinary men were with me now. These, with my faithful attendant and canoeman, Stanislas Roy, soon forgot their fatigues, and seated Indian-fashion by the blazing fire, sang paddle songs late into the night, some of which were so irresistibly droll that they caused even the New Brunswick men to smile: though all this time they lay without saying a word. They had been ducked in the rapid, and were of a less excitable disposition than their mercurial comrades.

The next day was bitter cold, and the surface of the river covered with drift ice, which cut the prow of my frail birch almost through as it forced its path along. But as the water coated it with a sheet of ice both inside and out, it did not leak, and suffered less from the floating masses. Wherever the water was still it was found blocked up with ice, and the bateaux broke their way through, by main force, to the next rapid-a severe and discouraging labour -yet the men worked incessantly in the hope of reaching one of the stations before night. But we were obliged to camp seven miles below, nevertheless, in a passing shower of sleet and rain. How are we ever to reach the Forks in such weather?"-This was my last thought as I rolled myself in a blanket, looked up at the stars, and closed my eyes.

In the morning, the boats were hard and fast in the ice, which had formed thick along shore during the night, and we cut them out

with axes and proceeded on. The day was somewhat milder, and I noticed a species of black ephemera crawling languidly on the fixed ice now bordering the stream. At noon we reached the astronomical station at the mouth of Great Black River, where Lieutenant Pipon, Royal Engineers, and party, were established for the winter in log huts-that of the sappers claiming some pretensions to the picturesque, as it was made of small fir logs placed upright and thatched with wild grass, having a keg at the apex for a chimney. I dined that day, for the first time, upon beaver's tail, cooked in the most approved manner by boiling and frying. It was a fatty, gelatinous substance with a fishy taste-a proof of the duplex character of the animal, by the way, for its flesh is devoid of it, and it feeds upon vegetable substances.

The next morning was misty with rain, and about midday I shook hands with Mr. Pipon, got into the canoe, and with one bateau continued my dreary route. Again we were struggling with a fierce rapid, the most dangerous on the St. John, when the water is as high as it then was; this was followed by a tranquil interval, which gave place quickly to the usual broken and rushing current. Then night darkened around the scene, and hastily choosing a spot among the firs once more we encamped.

On the following day we got on bravely, for though the labour was arduous, the weather was warmer. The scenery of the river had insensibly changed. Huge trees of white pine hedged the shores with their interminable rows, intermixed with cedars, in place of the previous growth of spruce, birch and fir. Mile after mile this stern feature presented itself in wearing monotony to the eye until just before sun down, when we emerged suddenly upon a broad expansion, smooth as glass and half occupied by alluvial islands covered with elms and other hard-wood trees. I never shall forget the pleasing sensations I experienced as this picture opened upon us, all radiant with the hues of a gorgeous sunset; nor were these diminished in any wise by the prospect of good cheer that welcomed us in the shape of several quarters of moose meat suspended to the branches of a tree, as we wound up a narrow channel between the islands and the main land. Here we found two Milicete Indians, who had lately killed six moose, and were busily engaged in jirking the meat and dressing the skins.

That evening we feasted upon fresh steaks with a gusto peculiar to those who have been long on salt provisions, and to voyageurs upon such a weary track. I have often tasted moose meat since, but it seemed to possess an especial flavour when served up on a piece of bark, and eaten with a sharp stick, in lieu of a fork, by that camp fire at the Seven Islands.

At day break we bid farewell to this romantic spot. A slight rain had fallen, and the surrounding woods, to the smallest twig, were coated with crystals, giving them a hoary and fantastic appearance. Ere long we passed an Indian paddling down to his brethren below; he had been employed to carry chronometers between the stations, a service now impossible. The cold was very severe, and the bleak gusts that swept down the river cut the face like a knife. The drift ice which had lately disappeared, again began to impede the navigation, and what was still worse, the men's hands were raw and bleeding from a constant use of the poles now rough as a rasp

with congealed spray. A long and distressing rapid closed the day's work, and lighting our fires we thawed the ice from the tents, tarpaulins and bags, and took a new lodging on the "cold, cold ground." There were no paddle songs that night!

The next day, Nov. 1, was more severe, but without wind. The river ran thick with ice. The rapids were incessant, and so long, some of them, that the men would hold on midway by a snag or a tuft of grass, to take breath, being fairly exhausted. Every hour, also, we were obliged to stop, light a fire, and boil some tea, the only luxury we possessed, which restored warmth and vigor to the system, and enabled us to proceed.

The solitude of these shores was unbroken by a sound or sight of any living creature. Once we noticed an eagle sailing far up in the sky over the pines, as if watching our motions; that was all. The scene was again changed. The forest on the right bank had been destroyed by fire, and its scathed and blackened trunks stood forlornly desolate above the snow. This melancholy district terminated at a point, wooded with a magnificent grove of red pine standing like columns, each tree as straight as an arrow, and more than one hundred feet high. They reminded me of the description of Lucifer's spear, in "Paradise Lost," but I was too cold to remember the words. My teeth chattered, my feet ached, my hands were benumbed; I should have frozen outright, as I sat wedged into the canoe, had I not got out and walked along the shore from time to time.

This, as it involved a rough chase after the boats, across swamps, thickets, and fallen trees half buried in five inches of snow, soon brought back the circulation, at the expense of divers bruises and rents in my clothes.

At length we cleared away the snow once more, lighted fires, and threw our weary selves besides them to rest. The men were fagged out. For six days they had struggled on against every disadvantage, until the skin was pealed from their limbs. They had polled and dragged, and cut a way with the clothes continually wet and frozen upon them, and still we knew not how far we had yet to go. The nearest place of refuge was at the forks of the river; now from this we might be twelve miles distant, or only one, for none of us had ever been thus far before, or knew anything of the course we were pursuing.

The day broke cheerlessly, and we embarked in a heavy snowstorm. The ice drove crashing against the bateau, and ground with an ominous sound along the sides of my canoe, while the flakes fell so thickly that the air was obscured, and it was at imminent risk that we groped our way among the rocks. How long we could have held on it is impossible to say, but, when about two miles above the camping ground, a man was descried standing among the trees on the right bank, and the smoke of several fires became also visible. It was the Forks of the St. John.

The party here were still under canvas, but Captain Robinson, the officer in command, had just got into his log-hut, and it was with no slight feeling of thankfulness that I stretched myself that night upon his floor.

Here I learned that the north-west branch was closed, that the road from St. Thomas was completed, and that parties with provi

sions crossed daily from Lake Isheganelshegek, by a footpath, a distance of twelve miles. I was quite content to take to the land; accordingly, after a day's rest, with my knapsack and staff, and, in company with a large party, I started on the track. This was difficult in the extreme. Sometimes making a false step, you plunged waist-deep in the snow; at others, you had to screw your limbs in a painful manner across, and under fallen entangled trees. Half way we met another party, who exchanged loads with the first, when both returned. At length, crossing the North-west Branch by leaping from rock to rock over a rapid, with the aid of my staff, I came out upon the lake, one of the sources of the St. John, and, with a half-breed named Felix, traversed it on the ice, and found Colonel Estcourt encamped on the other side, with seventy men, all under canvas. A large store, a stable, and two small houses, were being built of logs, under the superintendence of Mr. Featherstonehaugh; the latter intended for the use of myself and party, as this was to be my winter station.

The next day being Sunday, our good colonel read prayers. We were assembled in a quadrangle, formed of shed-tents, with a large fire in the centre. The men knelt devoutly on the green boughs, and, in the evening, sang hymns at the different camps, which had a pleasing effect. I was awakened several times during the night, by sounds like the firing of cannon; this was caused by the unequal contraction of the lake-ice in the intense frost.

On the 7th of November a number of sleighs arrived with provisions from St. Thomas, and, obtaining a week's leave, I accompanied them on their return. The drivers were St. Lawrence fishermen, short swarthy men, dressed in coarse grey cloth, etoffe du pays, red cow-skin mocassins, and fur caps. They employed the whole time in chattering and gesticulating with one another, and swearing at the horses, that were stunted and hardy like their masters, but very patient and very grave; they were covered, moreover, with long furry hair, and governed entirely by the voice.

The voitures were a cross between a sledge and an Indian tobaugan, with low runners, and the ends of the shafts curved and resting on the snow; a primitive contrivance, well adapted for unbroken roads, but calculated to spoil the best, by scooping them into cahols. Our road wound over the rugged hills, and through half-frozen swamps, covered everywhere with spruce and fir, their branches bent down with a weight of snow. The unbroken woods hid everything else from view. At night-fall, the long train drew up upon what the Canadians called "La Grande Montagne." The incessant cry of "Montez!" "March donc!" ceased. The men unharnessed their horses, cut wood with their tomahawks, and made a fire in a small opening among the trees. Here they cooked supper, and washed it down afterwards with a draught from the horse-bucket; they were a ruffianly crew, and to me appeared like a new species of being, wanting the dignity of man. Huddling together, they lay down without covering, with their feet to the fire, and were soon asleep. The stars shone with a frigid keenness, the trees burst with a sound like a percussion cap, in the frosty atmosphere, yet they snored on.

Meanwhile the horses were left to their reflections, standing in the snow. Every now and then one would shove its honest face