Part 5 (1/2)
”But I'm not sure that they were _all_ n.o.ble,” interposed Kate, who always loved to take the other side for argument's sake. ”You know some of them, at any rate, never thought that the American 'rebels'
would succeed; and when they did, of course, with feeling running so high, they couldn't expect much comfort among _them_, in any case; and many of the Loyalists had their farms confiscated, so that they hadn't much choice but to move out!”
”Yes; and a burning shame it was for those who confiscated them!”
rejoined Mrs. Sandford, who had some traditions of the kind in her own family. ”And I know well enough you got these Yankee ideas from _that_ Mr. Winthrop!”
”Well,” said Kate, calmly, ”it was all for the best in the end, though, of course, it was hard for the people who were driven from their homes. But you see, if they had not _had_ to leave them, we might never have had this glorious 'Canada of ours,' of which we are so proud!”
”Yes,” remarked Hugh, ”Mr. Armstrong told me that the narrow and mistaken policy of the American leaders at that time was really the foundation of British Canada.”
And then he went on give them some of the information he had got out of Mr. Armstrong's books, the preceding evening, in regard to the beautiful valley of the Trent, through which they were driving. He told them how Champlain, three centuries ago, had sung its praises at the Court of the _Grand Monarque_, as ”a region very charming and delightful,” where the park-like aspect of the trees suggested the previous occupancy of the country in bygone days by some superior race. Then, putting aside this pre-historic period, it was here that Champlain, on his way to his mistaken raid on the Iroquois, which was the beginning of so much strife and trouble, had joined his savage allies in an Indian ”Chevy Chase”--in which, by mishap, he wounded one of his dusky friends. But these old stories have long ago been forgotten, in the interest of mines--gold and iron--which, found in the vicinity, have, as usual, somewhat deteriorated the region to which they have given an artificial stimulus. As they drove in from Trenton, a small place at the confluence of the Trent with the bay, in the soft falling dusk, Hugh entertained his companions by repeating some of his favorite pa.s.sages from ”Hiawatha;” and May, who was poetical and patriotic enough to be something of a student of Canadian poetry, repeated a sonnet by one of Canada's earliest singers, Charles Sangster, who, falling on evil days, has not achieved the fame which his genius deserved:--
”My footsteps press, where, centuries ago, The red man fought and conquered, lost and won; Where tribes and races, gone like last year's snow, Have found th' eternal hunting grounds, and run The fiery gauntlet of their active days, Till few are left to tell the mournful tale; And these inspire us with such wild amaze, They seem like spectres pa.s.sing down a vale Steeped in uncertain moonlight on their way Towards some bourne where darkness blinds the day, And night is wrapped in mystery profound.
We cannot lift the mantle of the past: We seem to wander over hallowed ground, We scan the trail of thought, but all is over-cast.”
”Thank you,” said Hugh, ”I should like to see more of that poet. I like his vein very much.”
”Oh, May can give you screeds of any length from his 'St. Lawrence and the Saguenay' as we go along. And I daresay you can get the book in Kingston--he is a Kingstonian, I believe,” said Kate, who was not particularly poetical.
And then as the shadows of night drew softly about them, the fireflies flashed in and out of the woods with unusual brilliancy, affording the Scotch cousins a new subject for observation and delight.
”I declare,” said Hugh, ”one can scarcely get rid of the feeling that they might set the woods on fire!”
”They are not common so late in the season,” said Kate. ”Only now and then, for some reason best known to themselves, they show themselves, but only in the woods.”
”And there is the whip-poor-will!” exclaimed May, eagerly.
”Oh, I'm so glad!” said Flora, after listening attentively. ”That is one thing I _did_ want to see or hear!”
”You are much more likely to hear it than to see it,” said May. ”It is very hard to get a good look at one, for it seldom appears in daylight.”
But soon the fireflies and the whip-poor-will were left behind, and they were once more rattling over city streets. And then, after a substantial tea, they went to rest, for the steamer for Kingston was to start at six in the morning.
As the scenery of the Bay of Quinte depends very much on the weather, the little party were fortunate in having a lovely changeful morning, with soft mists and cloud-shadows that gave a charming variety of tint and tone to the beautiful bay and its fair, gently sloping sh.o.r.es. The little steamer ”Hero” pa.s.sed in rapid succession one picturesque point after another--the bay sometimes expanding into a broad, wind-rippled expanse; sometimes narrowing into calm reaches or inlets, mirroring the foliage on either side. At the head of the largest reach or arm of the bay, the steamer stopped at the pretty little town of Picton, nestling beneath a n.o.ble wooded hill, with gentler slopes rising about it in all directions. Whether Picton or Port Hope possessed the more picturesque site was a question they found it hard to decide.
Returning down this long reach Hugh was seized with a desire to see the ”Lake of the Mountain,” on the high table-land above the bay, of which he had often heard. And Kate, who considered nothing impossible, actually persuaded the obliging captain to keep the boat at the landing below it for half an hour, in order to give them time for a hurried visit. Mrs. Sandford, of course, graciously declined the climb, but the others hastened up the steep ascent, where a mill-race came rus.h.i.+ng down the height, amid a lush growth of ferns that grew luxuriously among the dark, wet rocks, between which they picked their way. But, once at the top, what a glorious view! Right below their feet stretched the lovely reach--widening out into the broad bay at the end of a long promontory diversified with fields and farms and wooded sh.o.r.es. Close beside them, on the other hand, lay the lovely little lake they had come to see--calmly sleeping in the suns.h.i.+ne, with as little apparent mystery about it as if its very existence were not an unsolved problem; one supposition being, that, as it is at about the same level as Lake Erie, it may be fed by a secret communication with that distant sheet. But they had only a few minutes to stay beside the beautiful mysterious little tarn, and to enjoy the lovely view spread before their eyes, for the steamer just below was already whistling to recall them, and they hurried down to rejoin her,--somewhat warm and out of breath, but with all the satisfaction one feels in making the best of one's opportunities.
As they left the reach, a sun-shower rolled up, accompanied with distant thunder; but it only seemed to add a bewitching variety to the tones of the distance, and of the water, and, when the suns.h.i.+ne broke out again, conjuring up an exquisite rainbow, and the light and shade chased each other over the golden fields of waving barley--the beauty of the bay with the perspective of the ”Long Reach” in the distance, seemed still greater than before. The travelers were content to sit still, pa.s.sively absorbing the charm of the hour, while they looked on in a dreamy fas.h.i.+on at the various points of interest; at Point Mississauga, named, of course, in honor of the former ”lords of the soil,” whose ”_totem_,” a crane, seemed to be appropriately keeping guard over the spot; then at the various villages and towns.h.i.+ps;--at Deseronto, a busy little lumbering place, named after an Indian chief, whose formidable name signifies ”Thunder and Lightning;”--at a forsaken-looking little ”Bath,” with its ambitious name, and at a long succession of ”towns,” or rather towns.h.i.+ps, named, by the overflowing enthusiasm of the U. E. Loyalists, after the numerous olive branches of old George the Third. There is Ernestown and Adolphustown, and Ameliasburg and Marysburgh; and there is Amherst Island, named, like Picton, after an English general, and said to have been lost by a n.o.ble owner at a game of cards! Hugh declared that the loyalty and _Britishness_ of everything were rather monotonous, and could not refrain from heartily wis.h.i.+ng that these good people had not, in their zeal, undertaken to change to the commonplace name of Kingston the melodious Indian name of Cataraqui! For here they were now coming in sight of this old ”limestone city”--the oldest settlement in Ontario, the cradle of British Canada--and, to May, surrounded with a halo of romance from its close a.s.sociation with the history and fortune of her brave but hapless hero, the dauntless explorer, LaSalle.
CHAPTER III
AMONG THE BEAUTIFUL ISLANDS.
And now they were rapidly approaching the gray, ”limestone city,”
which rises picturesquely on its slope behind its line of wharves, and elevators, and masts of vessels, with a certain quiet dignity not unbecoming its antiquity, and derived, partly from its harmonious gray coloring, and partly from the graceful towers and spires that form so prominent a feature in its aspect. And it was by no means easy for May to call up in imagination--as she tried to do--the wild, savage loneliness of the place, with its wooded slopes, as yet untouched by the hand of the settler, as it presented itself to LaSalle, when he first discovered the advantages of making Cataraqui his base of operations; or even as it was seen by the first detachment of U. E.
Loyalists, when their _batteaux_, slowly making their way up the St.
Lawrence, rounded the long promontory now surmounted by the ramparts of Fort Henry. One tall tower, seen long before any other evidence of a city appeared, belonged, the captain told them, to the Roman Catholic Cathedral. Presently, however, extensive piles of fine public buildings attracted their attention, which they found were unfortunately the shelter of lunacy and crime, Kingston being the seat of the Provincial Penitentiary, as well as of a large asylum. In welcome contrast, they were shown the Gothic tower of Queen's University, rising above an _entourage_ of trees, though far from being as imposing in its dimensions as these palaces of gloom. From thence, the eye wandered over other towers and domes and spires, relieved by ma.s.ses of verdure, which led them easily to believe the captain's report that Kingston is a very attractive city, especially when summer had embowered it in shade. And there were great schooners, under a full spread of canvas, and ma.s.sive lake steamers and propellers, and little active steam-launches, flitting about, in striking contrast--May thought--to the stillness of the scene, broken only by the Iroquois canoes, when Frontenac's flotilla came in state up the lonely river to found old Fort Frontenac.