A BACKWOODS' EXPRESS.

Mount Ida Chronicle, Volume X, Issue 581, 18 November 1880, Page 2 (Supplement)

A BACKWOODS' EXPRESS.

Tp- Tt is now many yeara since I was '{ stationed at Blair's Landing, a small 'p military post near tho uppor end of Lake V rudo isolated spot it was, Vri'tiy-rodpoiHod from tho surrounding ' nduno.i, and only retained by govern/icnt tor tho convenience it aQ'orded in Llioir presents to the wilder }• tho summer season, we had j, liltu 1m i"-o to think of our banishment -» IV mi en ill ution, when tho canoo-fleets of I Winnebago, Otawa, and Minominio p filled our hay, and our presence was co'nI tmiially noodod to preserve poace' among ■i the ti- Vou antagonistic tribes inhabiting 1 tho four or fivo hundred wigwams erected : round us; when solemn councils with 1 groat chieftains lillod tho day ; and from minuet until fur into tho night, tho air resounded with the booming of drums and boating of calabashes, and the monotonous Indian chant, aa tho tribesmen, clad in tho spoils of boar, and oik, and panther, performed wild characteristic dances boforo our houses, and at the lodge-doors of tho principal chiefs.' But when tho autumn winds swept the forest bare of leaves,'and our last visitor had returned to his village ; when the

rigorous' winter of tho,far north burst over ua, with its bitter frosts and deep ruows, thoh.tho dreariness of our position wan beyond description ; ono of its most painful'adjuncts being, that, as the icebordering deepened around tho hike, the .o'v.::Mional sloop no longer came in with its precious freightage of letters; and during all that long winter of more than six months' duration, our only communication with tho world was twice by expresses brought ovor the snow by It:(liana. When tho time for these ...arrivals drow near, no words can tell tho depth (>f ouraiixioty, and daily we walked mites to meet tho hearers of tidings which might, after all, till us with grief. On one occasion, mine wore exceedingly sorrowful. My brother, an artillery oflieer. had been woundod by the bursting of a gun at Toronto, and was slowly but surely dying. 'This was a great shock, for he,was all that was left to mo in the world,'and I resolved to go to him. My companions tried hard to dissuade mo by representations of the gigantic wilderness through which I must pass, and which at that season taxed tho endurance and energies oven of Bod Men. But I was strong and active, and used to the wild sports around us; and what tho Indiana could do for gain, surely in such a case 1 could ; and if I arrived only in time to look once more upon my brother's face, and clasp h)3 hand, it would more than repay every hardship, and be a life- . long consolation. Onco decided, no time was lost in preparation ; and the next morning at daybreak, accompanied by an Indian and his soli, as guides, I started on the expedition, which was to take us live hundred miles through that most droary and desolate region extending north of Ink? Huron, and on, at that time, almost to Toronto ; while to meet tho exigencies of such an enterprise, our only resources were the rifles in our hands, and tho bear-skin, blanket, and haversack each had slung over his shoulder. But wo set forth resolutely and hopefully, plodding, on our cumbrous snowBhoes, through t!-ioso vast snow-clad

solitudes ; threading wild passes, wh re we scarcely could force our way ; crossing vast frozen swamps, where tlio tempestuous north-wind almost swept ns from our feet ; and toiling ulong dark tracts of pi no-forest, through, whoso arches the wolf howled dismally, and the panther pursued his prey. When night came, the Indians heaped scores of dry logs and branches into a blazing lire, at which wo boiled our coll'oe, and cooked our game. The nearest (ir-thickct afforded us a shelter beneath which to spread our bear-skins on piles of cut fir branches ; and long after, wearied by tho day's exertion, I had stretched myself on this backwoods' couch, I cov.ld hear tho soft low voices of my companions discussing tho noverwenrying theme of tho past glories of their race—• Chechegwa, tho elder, the descendant of a long lino of war-chiefs, lofty, eloquent, and regretful ; and Leksho, in his hopeful youth, full of bright prophecies fov tho future. • Nearly two-thirds of our arduous journey was accomplished, and savo that oiirlimbs suffered from tho continuous travel, and that the fierce glare of Mxe sun on tho glittering snow affected our cy/«s, all had gone well with us, when piwjflay a distant sound broke on tho dcrßnliko-stillness. As wo advanced, the undefined murmur increased until it filled'tho air with tho strange sound, at that season, of tumultuous water ; and soon after wo reached the brink of a dark rocky rift, through whose depths, some' seventy feet below, a river was rushing with fearful violence, lashing the sides of its narrow prison, foaming and surging as it swept on its ruggod waj', and swelling into an angry roar, to which' its lofty barriers gave a deep reverberation. The river's course intersected our own almost at right angles ; therefore, wo should havo to cros3 it; and looking along the stream northward, I perceived that a pine-tree lay across the chasm, furnishing us with a bridge. Not that tho accommodation it offered was particularly inviting, for the rounded trunk, uubarkod by a hundred storms, was polwhed by a layer of frozen snow almost to tho brilliancy and smoothness of glass, while only horo and there a-gaunt branch stood out, like a huge linger:post, pointing warningly to the torrent boiling below. However, tho Indians seemed to make nothing of tho danger, their lnoccasined feet clinging, to tho smooth surface like, panther's paws,, as, to my extreme uneasiness, they passed, and repassed the chasm, conveying across our snowshoes, rifles, and .provisions.. At length I rejoiced that the transit of oursolvfcs aud chattels was safely effected ; and we wero about resuming our journey, when I/jksho discovered that one of our bear-jjkino had- -beon .left.'behind. Finding ,lio "Intended returning, for it, I endeavoured to dissuade him, but he laughed at my fears, and bounding on to the prostrate tree, began to cross ; his father audi watching tho light swift step, and erect bearing, with which he seemed to glide rather thau walk along tho perilous path. He had about roachod the centre of the

bridge, when, with outstretched wings, a great arctic owl swooped suddenly down, evidently about to settle on the tree before him. This would have been ombarrasssing, and in a moment Chechewa's rifle echoed far and wide, as its unerring bullet entered the huge bird's side, and the next instant, mortally wounded, it fell through tho air, a fluttering mass of snow-white feathers.

But it proved only an exchange of evils. The nerves, of the youthful Indian had not attained the iron firmness of his elder tribesman—he started, his foot slid on tho polished block, he lost his balance, and, almost ere we realised the frightful scene before us, fell headlong clown the dark abyss. Never shall I forget the cry of bitter anguish which burst from the father's lips, as we both rushed to the precipitous brink, but the unfortunate youth had already vanished beneath the wild waves of the hurrying flood—to be dashed against its opposing rocks, to be tossed among its restless surges, and finally swept over its outlet cataract, a fearful journey oiit'of the World ! I was shocked, awe-stricken, and most deeply distressed at the appalling end of that joyous yonng life. Yet what were my feelings to those of the wretched man beside me, whose own act had all but wrought the evil, and who hung over the dark torrent with outstretched hands and starting eyes, overwhelmed with horror ; while his stern lineaments were convulsed with such an inexpressible agony of grief, and anguish, and despair, that even the red bronzo hue of his race faded to a dusky paleness. In the face of so terrible an affliction, consolation was impossible, the warmest and most heartfelt sympathy was all I could offer. The poor fellow- seemed to comprehend me, for his eye softened through the Indian stoicism within which he strove to conceal his grief. But the next moment, as if by a sudden thought, he turned away, and walked rapidly through the bush. In no small' alarm, I followed, and overtook him just as he reached the brink of the fatal river, a considerable way down its course, doubtless influenced by the hope of obtaining one more glimpse of his lost child. But no words can express my astonishment and consternation, when, gaining the Indian's side, I looked down on a deep rocky basin, formed by an abrupt bend in the river's course, within which the pent-up stream was whirling round in one huge eddy, for, in the midst, erect as in life, but turning rapidly "with the revolving water, was tho form of the lost Leksho !

It was horrible! I could scarcely believe my eyes, but they served me only too faithfully; for there, a ghastly, appalling object, was the hopefrl, lighthearted youth, who had stood beside us scarcely an hour since, and whose laughter yet seemed ringing in our ears. I knew such sights had been seen for days.to-ir<-"thnr in thy whirlpool some miles below Niagara Fall 3, in that, on the Mitigano ; and the remoter Indians had brought to Blair's L-uidiiig accounts <>f similar catastrophes in the far wilds ; but I had never realised the fearfulness of such a spectacle, and my very heart seemed to fail, and my eyes to shrink, as I gazed on that whirling unrest of the dead. Meanwhile, still, silent, and aparently absorbed in that appalling presence, Chechegwa sank, half-sitting, half-kneeling on the snow. For hours be never moved. The wind heat against him in icy gusts, but he did not appear to feel it; the evening set in a bitter frost, but he did not seem consciaus of the cold from which I shivered ; and I was fain to try my own skill in building a fire, not only for warmth, but to lessen the gloom of the coming night.

The earliest daylight shewed that fearful form still revolving restlessly in the whirlpool's centre, and again, silent and absorbed, Chechegwa held his agonising watch. I knew that oach hour- was but adding to the Indian's grief ; I know that oach was lessening my chance of finding my own beloved ono living, but I had not the heart to tear the father from the la3t sight, harrowing as it was, of his lost son. But on the second morning tho whirlpool was vacant—the dead had been mercifully removed from our sight. Then, without a word, Chechegwa roso to continue his journey, and as he went on ahead, his step was as firm and his bearing as proud as if poor Loksho had still been of our little company; but at our first halt I noticed that ho hid the upper part of his face beneath the deep black pigment which is the Indian symbol of grief; and when wo stopped, at night, he raised the solemn chant, thWßod Man's last tribute to the departed, sotting forth the virtues of the dead, and the sorrow of the living until even Indian fortitude could endure no moro, and wrapping his head in his blanket, he bent it silently upon his knees.

It was miserable; work travelling through the wilds with no companion savo the grief-stricken Indian, who,' though he diligently performed his duties as. guide, never opened his lips except when beside the camp-fire ho'nightly attempted and failed in his.dismal death-song. ..My only consolation was, that it would soon be. over, and I had bogun to count the days, when once more we hoard the rushing of water. I grew nervous at the prospect ofanother torrent; but no words can express my feelings when, an hour's travel brought us to the brink of the. very whirlpool we had left four days before ! I looked at Chechegwa ; ho was standing tranquilly by tho troubled basin, and then for tho first time I noticed that his eye was rambling, and that the lofty expression of his faco had given place to a helpless vacancy. The truth at once flashed upon my mind that the horrors attendant On poor Leksho's death had crazed his unhappy father. ■; and; with a vague idea, gaining strength as his mind weakened, that at the whirlpool ho should still see his son, he had turned on his steps, and brought us back to it. Under tho circumstances, it was a terrible discovery. Chechegwa was no longer a trustworthy guide, and I was virtually lost in that almost interminable wilderness. Many instances crowded on my memory of men who, similarly placed, had wandered weeks and months among its mazes, and of many more who had never issued from them ; and ignorant as I was of the route and landmarks, such a fate might well be mine. All that night I sat by tho fire pondering plans of extrication ; and soon as day

broke, I roused the half-slumbering In T dian, and leading instead of being led by him, commenced to put them intr,execution, summoning all my little f6resWqre in mosses and tree-growths to' aid me'iri my design, which Was to travel eastward, trusting in time to come upon a road leading into the colony. •'•'; ; . It would be wearisome to tell how often I failed in this endeavour;; how, defter hours of toil, a flash of snnsMne, or'the gleam of a star, would, shew we I' had turned astray, losing both time' ancVstrength. At first, in these emergencies, I strove to awaken Cheehogwa to a consciousness of our position, and to obtain from him some clue to our right pour3e. But the attempt was. fruitless ;-„ daily the unfortunate Indian sank deeper into the fatuity which was fast overwhelming him, until he became incapable of anything, and 'would sit listlesslv by while I built our fire, cooked the game I had shot during the day, and prepared our night's shelter. The only signs of remembrance he evinced were that the mourning paint was scrupulously renewed, ahcl that he continued to murmur by.the fire a rambling lament. I had started with the resolve/whatever might betide, not to despair, and truly I had much need to persevere in it, as the days, grew into weeks, and left' us----still entangled in the bush ; as our moccasins wore from off our feet, and had .to be replaced by hareskins ; as our powder grew short, and want pressed close to us ; and, worse than all, as our limbs swelled until they, could scarcely support our weight. ', : V ■ At length one niorning mine failed me altogether; and as I lay helplessly:upon my bear-skin, the long withstood-despair rushed over me. My brother had "doubtless long since passed away, arid, after : all my struggles, I too was about'to"perish miserably.;;" Our fire was-'dying :out. for waiit of 'the^fuejp^c^Mfno^oiiger^'gather; our food wb\ild'Bareiy'si , ifflce' ; the;'dayj"and I was unable to provide more ;'.'• while adding to my depression, was the-melan-choly figure bending over the expiring embers, with" its funereal paint and crooning death-song. Even this extremity could not penetrate the poor Indian's cloiided faculties.

A. night and a day passed; and each hour my sufferings increased.;.. V -The want of fire almost froze me as.l'. Lay,: the. cold racked me with intolerable ; pain, and a strange sensation of' fainLness i.began to overpower me with what* I'toasted might be death.' But men used'teethe exposure of the bush die Hard of "co'ld'and hunger ; and still I lingered' on, enduring yet harcer pains and more deadly fabatness ; and after a' J while, poor Chechegwa began to cast, on me vague, helpless looks' of want and- misery,-which, even amid iny own sufferings, cut me to the heart. •■ The third day was passing, when there was a stir among the trees, and a deer broke from the covert.. Here, at least, was food for Chechegwa ; and exerting all my failing", energies, I raised the rifle, which lay ' besidb ihe, to my knee, and fired. My trenibling J hand missed its aim, and I discharged the second barrel; but the animal bounded off nnwourided, while I sank* back in a sudden agony. A bewildering numbness followed ; and my last dim thought, as consciousness departed, was, "that time and. its trials at length were past. I little guessed there was help at hand, or that those shots of mine had echoed in human ears, aud were to be the instruments of our escape. Two shots had been the agreed signal among a party of huntera tracking moose near the' spot; and the repeated sound of my rifle soon brought them round me, to gaze inastonishment on the unexpected sight of an Englishman dying beneath a tree, and. a sable-painted ludian sitting motionless by his side. By their aid, I was soon restored to life ; and in their camp, to health and strength. My wanderings had brought me within sixty miles of Toronto ; and beneath, the.guidance of one of these new friends, that distance was easily achieved. There, contrary to all expectation, I found my-brother alive and doing well. But. poor Chechegwa's darkened days.soon drew to a close ; and I, the sole survivor, still remember, as the most painful passage of my life, that disastrous Backwoods' Express.

' The circus is . coming,' remarked Mrs. Goodington, laying down" her paper, 'with no end of'trained horses and caramels, hypothenuses, .and other bedizens of the forest aud jungle. How well I remember the first time Daniel took me to the circus l - - As we entered the tainted enclosure I said to him, 'How terribly'the wild animalcules growl, doii'b they;? 1 -- I-was eenamost frLhteaed to .death till Daniel told'ma it was only the vendors oE peanuts and prize packages plvin" their-rpgation..' x J ° .' The.'firat. book Mr. Disraeli "wrote was a skit, oh the'whole of the higher circle of London Society ; the candidate he sought to set aside at his. first Parliamentary contest was the son of the then Premier ; before he was iii-Parliament he threatened O'Connell; he had not been in the House long before he attacked Sir Ptobert Peel. It was a glorious audacity On'his'part, considering the disadvantage" b'f his race, to throw into the face the British 'public the supremacy of ' Semetic' blood, and to confound us all with the Asiau-myJstery— ' Contemporary Preview.' There jire;few stranger things of the kind thasrths'uhisioil which has seized upon poor Jolm Biflfto'.'.the effect that he has • become artistic. '.'-.How he 'has pitched his top-boots to the dustbin,- discarded his old-fashioned bulldog,./and ■ trained his tongue to the ja'rgori of'-thd' studio. The dear old dingy London of a few-years back seems .to have suffered'from an epidemic. There is a perfect eruption of quaint mansions, in which every brick scorns to, be writhing'with affectation. The very name of art has become" a nuisance. It appears in strange conjunction with all manner of sub3tantive.s whichused to .do very ;;well 'without it. '-.Art needlework,' art pots' and pans, art this .and . aft that appear in--every tradesman's advertisements:—'Pall Mall Gazette.' .

• Upon Alio British Empire,|'as wo all know, thcjsiui never sets.; but the British" Empire is also the. most heavily indebted institution upon which the sun ever shone. A parliamentary return just ptiblished shows that the total of the pecuniary obligations of this magnificent fabric of annexation and conquest amounts to rather more than one thousand millions of pounds,' of which eight hundred millions represent the National Debt of the United Kingdom. Butnotwiths'anding the picture div.wn by the poet, the Titan struggles 0:1 not only without any apparent inconvenience under this overwhelming burden, but with a light and jaunty gait. The London season may try hi 3 endurance, but he is quite equal to the strain.—' World.'