Part 28

We took our stand upon a green point elevated a few feet above the river it projected into; in front ran the Sault, or leap, raging like the ocean when lashed by a gale, and churning amongst reefs of rock. Opposite to us, at a distance of some half mile, stood a couple of very spacious stone-built mills, their lofty substantial walls pierced by numerous narrow windows, and surmounted by steep red roofs, high over which waved a grove of noble trees: this was l'ile Jesu, and the stand whence we surveyed this scene the Isle of Montreal.

Whichever way we cast our eyes, up or down the stream, its course was vexed and its mood chafed more or less; but before, and close upon our right, was the wildest turmoil; and over an eddy of this, from off temporary platforms of planks, the fishermen flung down the stream their round landing-nets, as far as the eighteen-foot pole to which these were affixed would permit, then painfully dragged them back against the current, sometimes laden with fine shad, but oftener coming home empty, to be again leisurely cast back.

The sameness of this movement, the softness of the turf, and the difficulty attending conversation, had gradually lulled our little party into a pleasant reverie; when, on a sudden, we were startled by faint cheers borne on the downward breeze: we all sprang upon our feet in an instant, and, looking upwards, caught sight of a monstrous bed of timber bounding towards the Sault.

This was the very chance we had desired and were waiting for, and intensely was my sight directed towards it. On the very centre of the raft a tall pole was elevated, surmounted by a fanciful flag; at its foot the Pilot, or Conducteur, was stationed, motioning the course suggested by his glance at the state of the fall, towards which the mass was hurried with a rapidity each instant seemed to accelerate; and, in obedience to his directions, the active rameurs were seen tugging at the oars, and straining each sinew to the uttermost.

Involuntarily we approached the very edge of our stand, to watch as closely as possible the first plunge of that great raft down into the boiling breakers, from whose abyss a crew of Titans could not now have turned it. Quickly it neared the awful leap; at a signal from the watchful pilot, the foremost half of the crew abandoned their useless oars; and, running nimbly along the timber, rallied in a group about their standard, waving their caps, and braving the wild roar of the water with as wild a cheer. Suddenly the fluttering pennon drooped against the mast, then rose erect above it; the loud hurrah was lost, and headlong down they sank.

The heavy mass, loosely bound together, now writhed and bent about like a net of twine cast upon an angry brook, whilst the concussion produced by the clashing timbers sounded like a discharge from a battery. I drew short breath as I looked upon the men emerging from the foam, and again actively running to quarters to resume the heavy oars.

If the raft goes down unbroken, they guide it so as to preserve the very strength of the stream, until the diminished pace again demands their labour; but if any timbers are severed from the parent bed by the leap, as is frequently the case, the sternmost gang leisurely dart their pile-headed poles of an almost unwieldy length into the stray logs, and thus drawing them quickly back again, secure them in their places preparatory to the next fall lying on their perilous path.

I felt monstrously excited when, roused by the cry of the near voyageurs, I rose for the first time to witness a scene to which I feel my pen can do but little justice; from the first glance at the timber-ends emerging past a leafy turn in the up-stream, and bounding onward with a momentary increase of impetus, until the strong raft becomes but as a bed of straw upon the torrent. Then there is the desperate plying of the oars, their hurried abandonment, with the in-gathering, of the bold crew clinging together with cheers round their bright flag, until the leap is made, and the assailing waves rise boiling about and above them.

One of the descending rafts, for we were favoured with several, parted in nearly two halves within the rapids: luckily no one had been left out of bounds; for, as the fishermen assured us, the strongest swimmer is never seen alive after his first plunge into these frightful eddies.

Having abided our time, we purchased a fine shad, which we took to a near cottage, where the mistress cheerfully set about boucan-ing it for us; that is, roasting it over the fire in the smoke of the wood. With this, some brown-bread, and a glass of water, we made an excellent luncheon; then, after taking a considerable circuit, re-entered Montreal, and crossed at once to the island par excellence.

At half-past eight P.M. of the same evening I was put on board the "British America" steamboat, a fine large-class vessel, having a heavily laden schooner in tow.

As we swept down before the river-front of the city, I was struck with the appearance of the steep tin-roofed houses and many little domes glancing back the moon's rays; when, turning to regard St. Helen's, the blaze of a port-fire arrested my attention; the flash of the gun instantly succeeded, whilst, amidst its prolonged echoes, rose the contending notes of drum and bugle. It was just nine o'clock; in a few moments all was again calm and still, the last spire of Montreal quickly retreated in the shades of night, and the low banks of the St. Lawrence stretched away far and wide before us.

After a couple of hours' walk on deck, where two or three ladies and gentlemen were promenading with the quick, active step that at once proclaimed them English, I felt sufficiently wearied by some eighteen hours actively passed on foot or in saddle, to calculate on a sound sleep.

About midnight a devil of a row awakened me; I listened, and heard a rush overhead like a burst of cavalry, the trampling of horses, the yelling of dogs, together with the loud voices of many men in high contention. What the mischief can have come to us? thinks I.

A stray waiter, whom I discovered discoursin' a friend in the pantry, was at last made sensible of my calls, and from this youth I quickly learned our whereabout.

We were lying at Sorrel, the country-residence of the Governor, Lord Aylmer; and the noise was occasioned by the shipping of his lordship's stud for Quebec, whither the family had removed from this summer abode, to await and receive the commission about to supersede him in his high office.

Finding that the din was not occasioned by an infall of the aborigines, but was only a peaceful taking in of freight, I dismissed my waiter to his friend and pantry, and "addressed me again to sleep."

Sunday, 7th.--About noon arrived at Trois Rivieres, a very pretty little town, which, being Sunday, was thronged with the rural population of the vicinity attending church.

Numbers of these persons were pacing along the river-bank upon sturdy little ponies, and in the harbour were many bateaux filling with them, before re-crossing the St. Lawrence: their dress was invariably neat and picturesque, and their physiognomy, though somewhat heavy, was gentle and pleasing. These bateaux were shaded with the branches of trees, and decorated with wild flowers, and when moving off with their freight had quite an Arcadian appearance.

From this place to St. Anne's, the north bank of this river might be sketched for the same side of the Mississippi as viewed from New Orleans to Baton Rouge; a natural levee runs along at about the same elevation, on a like dead level; directly behind this bank are scattered similar poor-looking tenements, badly built, and half painted; and, at a certain distance in the rear of these, rises a melancholy-looking forest of half-naked trees, with not a single rise or gap along the hazy line of the horizon resting upon them. The glowing heat of this calm day also favoured the illusion, which was certainly in all its points the most perfect imaginable: it would require very little to persuade a man landed here on such a day that he was in Louisiana.

The river again becomes interesting about the junction of the Richelieu. The banks are once more broken and of irregular heights. Numerous churches, having domes and spires like the befrois of Normandy, only that these are roofed over with pure tin, shoot above each wooded knoll; and the stream whirls and boils amongst reefs of irregular rock, some hidden, others visible, moving at a great pace for the ticklish navigation.

At three P.M. the Heights of Abraham hove in sight, and our prospect grew in interest with every moment. Next rose a forest of tall masts along the shore; away upon our right was Point Levi, with its soft wooded brow; and above our heads upon the left glistened tower and town, with the grim batteries hanging over the precipice.

As we drew closer, the ruins of the Chateau formed an object of striking interest, and gave added effect to the approach to this most picturesque capital; an object of interest which I hope will soon be removed by his Majesty's loyal and liberal parliament for Lower Canada, and a new edifice erected, in a style becoming to their taste and worthy such a site.

The valley of Montmorency, with its long straggling suburb, soon opened to our view; and the river assumed the appearance of a lake encircled by mountains, and bounded at its eastern extremity by the Isle of Orleans.

I was perfectly enraptured with air, earth, and water: freshness and beauty reigned over all; there was not a cloud in the sky or a spot on the landscape one would have desired blotted out; and, taken as a coup d'oeil, I do not hesitate to say this was by far the finest I ever beheld.

Sunday though this was, there was much bustle in the harbour. Little dwarfish steamers were flying across the channel in opposite directions; long boats, laden with sea-worn emigrants, were rowing from the shore back to their respective ships.

It was pleasant to look on these poor people coming back from a first attendance at the altars raised, by their predecessors in exile, amidst a wilderness now made, by the industry Heaven has blessed, so glorious.

How cheering in their eyes must have been this sunny view of the land of their adoption! How must their hearts have leaped within them as they pressed for the first time its shores, and heard once more the sound of the church-going bell, and kneeled in gratitude before that type of salvation which they came to bear yet deeper within the bosom of the desert, themselves the hardy pilgrims of a new crusade! their haches d'armes, their stout wood-axes; their lances, the goads of the patient steer; their artillery, the plough and harrow; their advance, the progress of industrious hardihood; their bloodless victory, a blessing to the field they win, a glory to the banner under which they strive: braving peril, toil, and exile for a country to be made holy by their triumph, and consecrated at once to freedom and to God!