Canadian Crusoes: A Tale of the Rice Lake Plains. Catharine Parr Strickland Traill
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After some little time had elapsed, Hector returned; the bark vessel had done its duty to admiration, it only wanted a very little improvement to make it complete. The water was cold and pure. Hector had spent a little time in deepening the mouth of the spring, and placing some stones about it. He described the ravine as being much deeper and wider, and more gloomy than the one they occupied. The sides and bottom were clothed with magnificent oaks. It was a grand sight, he said, to stand on the jutting spurs of this great ravine, and look down upon the tops of the trees that lay below, tossing their rounded heads like the waves of a big sea. There were many lovely flowers, vetches of several kinds, blue, white, and pencilled, twining among the grass. A beautiful white-belled flower, that was like the “Morning glory,” (Convolvulus major,) and scarlet-cups [FN: Erichroma, or painted cup] in abundance, with roses in profusion. The bottom of this ravine was strewed in places with huge blocks of black granite, cushioned with thick green moss; it opened out into a wide flat, similar to the one at the mouth of the valley of the Big Stone. [FN: The mouth of this ravine is now under the plough, and waving fields of golden grain and verdant pastures have taken place of the wild shrubs and flowers that formerly adorned it. The lot belongs to G. Ley, Esq.]
These children were not insensible to the beauties of nature, and both Hector and his sister had insensibly imbibed a love of the grand and the picturesque, by listening with untiring interest to their father’s animated and enthusiastic descriptions of his Highland home, and the wild mountainous scenery that surrounded it. Though brought up in solitude and uneducated, yet there was nothing vulgar or rude in the minds or manners of these young people. Simple and untaught they were, but they were guileless, earnest, and unsophisticated; and if they lacked the knowledge that is learned from books, they possessed much that was useful and practical, which had been taught by experience and observation in the school of necessity.
For several days the pain and fever arising from her sprain rendered any attempt at removing Catharine from the valley of the “Big Stone” impracticable. The ripe fruit began to grow less abundant in their immediate vicinity, and neither woodchuck, partridge, nor squirrel had been killed; and our poor wanderers now endured the agonising pains of hunger. Continual exposure to the air by night and by day contributed not a little to increase the desire for food. It is true, there was the yet untried lake, “bright, boundless, and free,” gleaming in silvery splendour, but in practice they knew nothing of the fisher’s craft, though, as a matter of report, they were well acquainted with all the mysteries of it, and had often listened with delight to the feats performed by their respective fathers in the art of angling, spearing and netting.
“I have heard my father say, that so bold and numerous were the fish in the lakes and rivers he was used to fish in, that they could be taken by the hand, with a crooked pin and coarse thread, or wooden spear; but that was in the lower province; and oh, what glorious tales I have heard him tell of spearing fish by torchlight!”
“The fish may be wiser or not so numerous in this lake,” said Hector; “however, if Kate can bear to be moved, we will go down to the shore and try our luck; but what can we do? we have neither hook nor line provided.”
Louis nodded his head, and sitting down on a projecting root of a scrub oak, produced from the depths of his capacious pocket a bit of tin, which he carefully selected from among a miscellaneous hoard of treasures. “Here.” said he, holding it up to the view as he spoke; “here is the slide of an old powder-flask, which I picked up from among some rubbish that my sister had thrown out the other day.”
“I fear you will make nothing of that,” said Hector, “a bit of bone would be better. If you had a file now you might do something.”
“Stay a moment, Monsieur Hec., what do you call this?” and Louis triumphantly handed out of his pocket the very instrument in question, a few inches of a broken, rusty file; very rusty, indeed, it was, but still it might be made to answer in such ingenious hands as those of our young French Canadian. “I well remember, Katty, how you and Mathilde laughed at me for treasuring up this old thing months ago. Ah, Louis. Louis, you little knew the use it was to be put to then,” he added thoughtfully, apostrophising himself; “how little do we know what is to befall us in our young days!” “God knows it all,” said Hector, gravely, “we are under His good guidance.”
“You are right, Hec., let us trust in His mercy and He will take good care of us. Come, let us go to the lake,” Catharine added, and sprung to her feet, but as quickly sunk down upon the grass, and regarded her companions with a piteous look, saying, “I cannot walk one step; alas, alas! what is to become of me; I am only a useless burden to you. If you leave me here, I shall fall a prey to some savage beast, and you cannot carry me with you in your search for food.”
“Dry your tears, sweet cousin, you shall go with us. Do you think that Hector or Louis would abandon you in your helpless state, to die of hunger or thirst, or to be torn by wolves or bears? We will carry you by turns; the distance to the lake is nothing, and you are not so very heavy, ma belle cousine; see, I could dance with you in my arms, you are so light a burden,”—and Louis gaily caught the suffering girl up in his arms, and with rapid steps struck into the deer path that wound through the ravine towards the lake, but when they reached a pretty rounded knoll, (where Wolf Tower [FN: See account of the “Wolf Tower,” in the Appendix.] now stands,) Louis was fain to place his cousin on a flat stone beneath a big oak that grew beside the bank, and fling himself on the flowery ground at her feet, while he drew a long breath, and gathered the fruit that grew among the long grass to refresh himself after his fatigue; and then, while resting on the “Elfin Knowe,” as Catharine called the hill, he employed himself with manufacturing a rude sort of fish-hook with the aid of his knife, the bit of tin, and the rusty file; a bit of twine was next produced—boys have always a bit of string in their pockets, and Louis, as I have before hinted, was a provident hoarder of such small matters. The string was soon attached to the hook, and Hector was not long in cutting a sapling that answered well the purpose of a fishing-rod, and thus equipped they proceeded to the lake shore, Hector and Louis carrying the crippled Catharine by turns. When there, they selected a sheltered spot beneath a grove of over-hanging cedars and birches, festooned with wild vines, which, closely woven, formed a natural bower, quite impervious to the rays of the sun. A clear spring flowing from the upper part of the bank among the hanging network of loose fibres and twisted roots, fell tinkling over a mossy log at her feet, and quietly spread itself among the round shingly pebbles that formed the beach of the lake. Beneath this pleasant bower Catharine could repose, and watch her companions at their novel employment, or bathe her feet and infirm ancle in the cool streamlet that rippled in tiny wavelets over its stony bed.
If the amusement of fishing prove pleasant and exciting when pursued for pastime only, it may readily be conceived that its interest must be greatly heightened when its object is satisfying a craving degree of hunger. Among the sunny spots on the shore, innumerable swarms of the flying grasshopper or field crickets were sporting, and one of these proved an attractive bait. The line was no sooner cast into the water, than the hook was seized, and many were the brilliant specimens of sun-fish that our eager fishermen cast at Catharine’s feet, all gleaming with gold and azure scales. Nor was there any lack of perch, or that delicate fish commonly known in these waters as the pink roach.
Tired at last with their easy sport, the hungry boys next proceeded to the grateful task of scaling and dressing their fish, and this they did very expeditiously, as soon as the more difficult part, that of kindling up a fire on the beach, had been accomplished with the help of the flint, knife, and dried rushes. The fish were then suspended, Indian fashion, on forked sticks stuck in the ground and inclined at a suitable angle towards the glowing embers—a few minutes sufficed to cook them.
“Truly,” said Catharine, when the plentiful repast was set before her, “God hath, indeed, spread a table for us here in the wilderness;” so miraculous did this ample supply of delicious food seem in the eyes of this simple child of nature.
They had often heard tell of the facility with which the fish could be caught, but they had known nothing of it from their own experience, as the streams and creeks about Cold Springs afforded them but little opportunity for exercising their skill as anglers;