The Settlers in Canada. Фредерик Марриет
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу The Settlers in Canada - Фредерик Марриет страница 13
CHAPTER VII.
Although it was now the middle of May, it was but a few days before their departure that there was the least sign of verdure, or the trees had burst into leaf; but in the course of the three days before they quitted Quebec, so rapid was the vegetation, that it appeared as if summer had come upon them all at once. The heat was also very great, although, when they had landed, the weather was piercing cold; but in Canada, as well as in Northern America, the transitions from heat to cold, and from cold to heat, are very rapid.
My readers will be surprised to hear that when the winter sets in at Quebec, all the animals required for the winter's consumption are at once killed. If the troops are numerous, perhaps three or four hundred bullocks are slaughtered and hung up. Every family kill their cattle, their sheep, pigs, turkeys, fowls, etc., and all are put up in the garrets, where the carcasses immediately freeze hard, and remain quite good and sweet during the six or seven months of severe winter which occur in that climate. When any portion of meat is to be cooked, it is gradually thawed in lukewarm water, and after that is put to the fire. If put at once to the fire in its frozen state it spoils. There is another strange circumstance which occurs in these cold latitudes; a small fish, called the snow-fish, is caught during the winter by making holes in the thick ice, and these fish coming to the holes in thousands to breathe, are thrown out with hand-nets upon the ice, where they become in a few minutes frozen quite hard, so that, if you wish it, you may break them in half like a rotten stick. The cattle are fed upon these fish during the winter months. But it has been proved, which is very strange, that if, after they have been frozen for twenty-four hours or more, you put these fish into water and gradually thaw them as you do the meat, they will recover and swim about again as well as ever. To proceed however, with our history—
Mr. Campbell found that, after all his expenses, he had still three hundred pounds left, and this money he left in the Quebec Bank, to use as he might find necessary. His expenditure had been very great. First, there was the removal of so large a family, and the passage out; then he had procured at Liverpool a large quantity of cutlery and tools, furniture, etc., all of which articles were cheaper there than at Quebec. At Quebec he had also much to purchase: all the most expensive portion of his house; such as windows ready glazed, stoves, boarding for floors, cupboards, and partitions; salt provisions, crockery of every description, two small wagons ready to be put together, several casks of nails, and a variety of things which it would be too tedious to mention. Procuring these, with the expenses of living, had taken away all his money, except the three hundred pounds I have mentioned.
It was on the 13th of May that the embarkation took place, and it was not until the afternoon that all was prepared, and Mrs. Campbell and her nieces were conducted down to the bateaux, which lay at the wharf, with the troops all ready on board of them. The Governor and his aides-de-camp, besides many other influential people of Quebec, escorted them down, and as soon as they had paid their adieus, the word was given, the soldiers in the bateaux gave three cheers and away they went from the wharf into the stream. For a short time there was waving of handkerchiefs and other tokens of good-will on the part of those who were on the wharf; but that was soon left behind them, and the family found themselves separated from their acquaintances and silently listening to the measured sound of the oars, as they dropped into the water.
And it is not to be wondered at that they were silent, for all were occupied with their own thoughts. They called to mind the beautiful park at Wexton, which they had quitted, after having resided there so long and so happily; the hall, with all its splendor and all its comfort, rose up in their remembrance; each room with its furniture, each window with its view, was recalled to their memories; they had crossed the Atlantic, and were now about to leave civilization and comfort behind them—to isolate themselves in the Canadian woods—to trust to their own resources, their own society, and their own exertions. It was, indeed, the commencement of a new life, and for which they felt themselves little adapted, after the luxuries they had enjoyed in their former condition; but if their thoughts and reminiscences made them grave and silent, they did not make them despairing or repining; they trusted to that Power who alone could protect—who gives and who takes away, and doeth with us as He judges best; and if hope was not buoyant in all of them, still there was confidence, resolution, and resignation. Gradually they were roused from their reveries by the beauty of the scenery and the novelty of what met their sight; the songs, also, of the Canadian boatmen were musical and cheering, and by degrees, they had all recovered their usual good spirits.
Alfred was the first to shake off his melancholy feelings and to attempt to remove them from others; nor was he unsuccessful. The officer who commanded the detachment of troops, and who was in the same bateau with the family, had respected their silence upon their departure from the wharf—perhaps he felt much as they did. His name was Sinclair, and his rank that of senior captain in the regiment—a handsome, florid young man, tall and well made, very gentleman-like, and very gentle in his manners.
"How very beautiful the foliage is on that point, mother," said Alfred, first breaking the silence, "what a contrast between the leaves of the sycamore, so transparent and yellow, with the sun behind them, and the new shoots of the spruce fir."
"It is, indeed, very lovely," replied Mrs. Campbell; "and the branches of the trees, feathering down as they do to the surface of the water—"
"Like good Samaritans," said Emma, "extending their arms, that any unfortunate drowning person who was swept away by the stream might save himself by their assistance."
"I had no idea that trees had so much charity or reflection, Emma," rejoined Alfred.
"I can not answer for their charity, but, by the side of this clear water, you must allow them reflection, cousin," replied Emma.
"I presume you will add vanity to their attributes?" answered Alfred; "for they certainly appear to be hanging over the stream that they may look and admire themselves in the glassy mirror."
"Pretty well that for a midshipman; I was not aware that they used such choice language in a cockpit," retorted the young lady.
"Perhaps not, cousin," answered Alfred; "but when sailors are in the company of ladies, they become refined, from the association."
"Well, I must admit, Alfred, that you are a great deal more polished after you have been a month on shore."
"Thank you, cousin Emma, even for that slight admission," replied Alfred, laughing.