as any other. The names of Caphtorim, Misraim. &c.. are all real.and connected with the history of Ham's chil Mr. Springer, an American writer, has given us a graphic account of the adventurous life still led dren. Some of the incidents, too, are founded on tradi- by numbers of men in the great old forests of tionary story. TIME. Maine and New Brunswick. There, a numerous class of men live, year by year, engaged in a life of toil, adventure, and danger-they are generally (Translated from the Italian of Fillicaja, by Miss Agnes known by the name of Lumber-men, or Loggers. Strickland.) I saw a mighty river, wild and vast, Their business is, to search out the finest timber of the forest, fell it, drag it to the river's side, and float it down into the bays along the coast, from Whose rapid waves were moments, which did whence it is shipped off to American or British glide So swiftly onward in their silent tide, That ere their flight was noted, they were past ;- In days and months still hurrying on untired. My thoughts responded-" Time." FOREST LIFE-THE LOGGERS OF MAINE. In England, and indeed in European countries generally, we have well-nigh forgotten what forestlife is. Yet once it was almost the only kind of life in England and in Europe. Magnificent old forests covered the entire land, only the stunted remains of which are here and there to be met with, as at Sherwood, New Forest, Epping, and Charnwood; but one can form no idea of the old forests from these petty remnants of the grand primeval woods. These forests stretched from sea to sea, across plains and swamps, over hill and dale, covering the mountains to their summits. Men lived then under the shade of forests,-the only roads were the forest paths,-herds of swine fed upon the acorns which dropped from the boughs of the oak trees, and deer, boars, wild bulls, and game of all sorts roamed at large, and yielded a ready store of food to the thinly scattered denizens of the forest. In the progress of cultivation of the soil - as the use of cereal grains extended with the advancement of civilization -the forests have gradually been cut down to make way for the plough, or the timber has been used by the increasing population for the purposes of fuel; and the wild deer, boars, bulls, and wolves, have been extirpated, to give place to tamer breeds of animals, such as the farmer can turn to profitable account. To form an idea of primitive forest-life, we must go to the unreclaimed forests of North Americato the State of Maine, the province of New Brunswick, and the Canadas, where The murmuring pines and the hemlocks Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twight. Stand like Druids of old, with voices sad and prophetic. Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their Losoms. markets. The trees there are of all sorts-elin, birch, maple, beech, chesnut, oak, ash, poplar, hemlock, pine and hickory, all furnishing speci mens of gigantic magnitude, are, however, the trees most frequently met with. The white pine may well be denominated the monarch of the size. "I have worked," says Mr. Springer, "in American forests, growing to an almost incredible the forests among this timber several years, have cut many hundreds of trees, and seen many thousands, but have never found one larger than the one I felled on a little stream which emptied into Jackson Lake, near the head of Backahegan stream, in the eastern part of Maine. This was a "Pumpkin" Pine; its trunk was as straight and handsomely grown as a moulded candle, and measured six feet in diameter four feet from the ground, without the aid of spur roots. It was about nine rods in length, or one hundred and forty-four teet, about sixty-five feet of which was free of limbs, and retained its diameter remarkably well. I was employed about one hour and a quarter in felling it. The afternoon was beautiful; everything was calm, and to me the circumstances were deeply interesting. After chopping an hour or so, the mighty giant, the growth of centuries, which had withstood the hurricane, and raised itself in peerless majesty above all around, began to tremble under the strokes of a mere insect, as I might appear in comparison with it. My heart palpitated as I occasionally raised my eye to its pinnacle, to catch the first indications of its fall. It came down at length with a crash which seemed to shake a hundred acres, while the loud echo rang through the forest, dying away among the distant hills. It had a hollow in the butt about the size of a barrel, and the surface of the stump was sufficiently capa cious to allow a yoke of oxen to stand upon it. It made five logs, and loaded a six-ox team three times. The butt log was so large that the stream did not float it in the spring; and when the drive was taken down, we were obliged to leave it behind, much to our regret and loss." Think of a forest of gigantic trees of this description extending over hundreds of miles of country! Such are the forests of Maine and New Brunswick. The pines, which usually grow in clumps, seem to constitute the aristocracy of the forest,-the rest of the trees making up the populace. The pine is the most useful and valuable of all the trees,being used in all kinds of house architecture, and very extensively in ship-building; and it furnishes a large amount of employment to lumber-men, mill-men, rafters, coasters, truckmen, merchants, and mechanics of all sorts. An idea of the extent *Forest Life and Forest Trees: comprising winter camp life among the Loggers, and wild-wood adventure, &c. By John S. Springer. the timber, and its convenient location to the stream or lake on which it is floated away to market. A necessary preliminary of the loggers is the putting up, in the autumn, of large quantities of meadow hay, for the foddering of the teams of cattle required to drag the timber to the water. During this work, the lumberinen are pestered by myriads of bloodthirsty flies-mosquitoes and midges being the most furious and untiring in their attacks. But more stirring adventures are occasionally encountered, of which we take the following instance : of the timber-trade in Maine, may be formed from the fact that not less than ten thousand men are engaged in lumbering on the Penobscot alone. The great pine tracks are usually in the convenient vicinity of lakes and rivers, from whence the transport of the timber to the ocean is comparatively easy. The labors of the lumbermen, during fifty or more years, have made sad havoc among the pine-woods, and doubtless the pine is ultimately doomed, by the avarice and enterprise of the white man, gradually to disappear from the borders of civilization, as have the aborigines of the country before the onward march of the Saxon "Notwithstanding the labor and annoyances of race. Already have these magnificent trees been meadow life, there are pastimes and adventures so cleared away by the woodman's axe, that the to be met with. A shot now and then at some pine is now driven far back into the interior wilder- stray deer who may chance to stroll upon the ness. Hence, in order to discover the locality of meadow to graze; the hooking of beautiful trout, the remaining pine communities, exploring expe- pickerel, and other delicious pan-fish, afford agreeditions are made, usually during the autumn, into able relief from ennui; while the sports of the fowild and unknown forest regions. Sometimes the rest and the brook afford most agreeable changes exploration is made during the winter, and then of diet. Here, also, very frequently, are skirthe labor of the timber-hunters is both arduous mishes had with the common black bear. If and dangerous. They start on board a skiff or Bruin is not intentionally pugnacious, he is really a batteau, with provisions, axes, guns and ammu- meddlesome; nay, more, a downright trespasser nition; and thus voyage some hundreds of miles a regular thief,—an out and-out no-governinto the interior, carrying the skiff on their shoul- ment" animal; who, though neither profane nor ders across the land where the rapids of the river yet immoral, still, without apostolical piety, would are too severe to be ascended by the use of oars have "all things common." These peculiar traits or poles. They sleep in the open air at nights, of character secure to him the especial attention turning the boat bottom upwards, and taking of mankind, and ever make him an object of shelter under it, if rain should fall. Occasionally attack. Though formidable as an enemy, it is they are scared by the scream of the owl, or the hard to allow him to pass, even if he be civilly intramping of deer, or what is more alarming than clined, without direct assault. On one oceaall, by the approach of a black bear, dangerous sion, while two men were crossing a small adventures with which are very frequent in the lake in a skiff, on their return from the meadeep forests. dows, where they had been putting up hay, they discovered a bear swimming from a point of land for the opposite shore. As usual in such cases, temptation silenced prudential remonstrances; so, changing their course, they gave chase. The craft being light, they gained fast upon the bear, who exerted himself to the utmost to gain the shore. But finding himself an unequal match in the race, he turned upon his pursuers and swam to meet them. One of the men, a short, thick-set, dare-devil sort of a fellow, seized an axe, and the moment the bear came up, inflicted a blow upon his head, which seemed to make but a slight impression. Before a second could be repeated, the bear clambered into the boat; he instantly grappled with the man who struck him, firmly setting his teeth in the man's thigh; then, settling back upon his haunches, he raised his victim in the air, and shook him as a dog would a woodchunk. The man at the helm stood for a moment in amazement, without knowing how to act, and fearing that the bear might spring overboard and drown his companion; but recollecting the effect of a blow upon the end of a bear's snout, he struck him with a short settingpole. The bear dropped his victim into the bottom of the boat, rallied, but fell overboard, and swam again for the shore. The man bled freely from the bite, and as the wound proved too serious to allow a renewal of the encounter, they made for the shore. Medical aid was procured as soon as possible, and in the course of six weeks the man recovered. But one thing saved him from being upset; the water proved sufficiently shoal to admit of the bear's getting bottom, from which he sprang Arrived at some favorable spot, one of the party ascends the highest tree,-generally the spruce fir, which is easily climbed. But when a still lof tier look out is wanted, a spruce fir is felled and laid against the trunk of some lofty pine, up which the explorer clambers until he reaches the summit, and is enabled to survey the vast extent of forest around. From such a tree-top, like a mariner at the mast head upon the look-out for whales, (for indeed the pine is the whale of the forest,) large "clumps" and "veins" of pine are discovered, whose towering tops may be seen for miles around. Such views fill the bosom of the timber-hunter with intense interest. They are the object of his search, his treasure-his El Dorado,-and they are beheld with peculiar and thrilling emotions. To detail the process more minutely, we should observe that the man in the tree-top points out the direction in which the pines are seen, when a man at the base marks the direction, indicated by a compass which he holds in his hand,-the compass being quite as necessary in the wilderness as on the pathless ocean. When the "clump" has been fairly made out, the explorers retrace their steps, blazing or notching the trees, so as to enable them to return easily to the place; and then they return home, to await the spring season, when felling, rolling, and rafting commence with great vivacity. Permits are, however, first obtained from the State, or from the proprietors, before the loggers begin their operations-the price paid varying from one to eight dollars per thousand feet of timber, cut down and taken away. The price varies according to the quality of into the boat. Had the water been deep, the boat must inevitably have been upset, in which case the consequences might have been more serious." drawn from his perilous position. Often, where the pressure is direct, a few blows only are given with the axe, when the log snaps in an instant, with a loud report, followed suddenly by the violent motion of the "jam," and ere our bold riverdriver is jerked half-way to the top of the cliff, scores of logs, in wildest confusion, rush beneath his feet, while he yet dangles in the air, above the rushing, tumbling mass. If that rope, on which life and hope thus hang suspended, should part, worn by the sharp point of some jutting rock, death, certain and quick, would be inevitable. The deafening noise, when such a jam breaks, produced by the concussion of moving logs whirled about like mere straws, the crash and breaking of some of the largest, which part apparently as easily as a reed that is severed, together with the roar of waters, may be heard for miles; and nothing can exceed the enthusiasm of the riverdrivers on such occasions-jumping, hurraing, and yelling, with joyous excitement. Such scenes are frequent on most rivers where lumber is At length the logs float into the broad stream, and reach the port where the timber is sold. But too often the logger wastes, in reckless dissipa tion, the fruits of his previous six months' dangers and labours.-Eliza Cook's Journal. LEGISLATIVE NOMEMCLATURE. In the odd medley of names of the members of A lumbering camp is a busy scene. A loghouse, for the shelter of the men and the cattle, is hastily knocked together; it is usually in the form of a long booth or shed of the roughest description, covered with shingles and fir-branches. The interior is divided into three compartmentskitchen, dining-room," and sleeping apartment, the bedsteads of which consist of mother earth, strewn with fir, hemlock, and cedar-boughs. When the occupants 46 "" turn in for the night, they merely throw off their outer garments, and they sleep there more soundly than many princes on their beds of down. The interior of the shanty, on wintry nights, is often a scene of mirth and jollity, and many long yarns about adventures with deer, bears, wolves, and catamounts, are spun for the benefit of the listeners. Songs are sung; and many a cloud of tobacco-smoke is blown-for smoking seems to be one of the neces-driven. sary qualifications of a logger. The days are spent in hard labour-in felling, sawing, barking, chopping, rolling, and dragging the logs towards the river. The teamster is one of the hardest worked of the lot, and his care for the cattle is unceasing the success of the whole party depending greatly on his efficiency. We need not describe the detail of the logging operationsthey may easily be imagined. The trees are selected, felled, chopped, barked, rolled, and dragged, during a period of three months. Then the camp is broken up, the logs are clamped together into rafts, and the exciting and dangerous work of river-driving begins. The rafts float on, each superintended by a driver, and all is plain sailing enough, until a rapid has to be "shot," or a narrow to be passed. Then the logs are apt to get jammed together between the rocks, and the driver has constantly to be on the alert to preserve his raft, and, what he values at less rate, his own life. Sometimes days and weeks pass before a "jam" can be cleared-the drivers occasionally requiring to be suspended by ropes from the neighbouring precipices to the spot where a breach is to be made, which is always selected at the lowest part of the jam. The point may be treacherous, and yield to a feeble touch, or it may require much strength to move it. In the latter case, the operator fastens a long rope to a log, the end of which is taken down stream by a portion of the crew, who are to give a long pull and a strong pull when all is ready. He then commences prying while they are pulling. If the jam starts, or any part of it, or if there be even an indication of its starting, he is drawn suddenly up by those stationed above; and in their excitement and apprehensions for his safety, this is frequently done with such haste as to subject him to bruises and scratches upon the sharp-pointed bushes or ledges in the way. It may be thought best to cut off the key-log, or that which appears to be the principal barrier. Accordingly, the man is let down the jam, and as the place to be operated upon may, in some cases, be a little removed from the shore, he either walks to the place with the rope attached to his body, or, untying it, leaves it where he can readily grasp it in time to be Two Carters, and a Miller. A Mare that's Swift, a Fox. Rich, Bankes, with Goold, and Wood, and Clay, A Booth, a Barrow, and a Crooke, A Buck, a Talbot, and a Heard, A Parker has a Heathcote reared, Members there are of every Tynte, South Durham elevates her Vane, Carnarvon hoists a Pennant; East Somerset a Knatchbull sends, The North is charmed by Oxfordshire, A Freestun, Kirk, with Bell, and Vane, A Butler in his master's Hall, Two Butts of New-Port, just come in, A Lincoln Trollope, with a child, A Morrice dance and Somerset, French, Foley, and Lowe plays; There's Knightly Jocelyn in the House, Though Jones declares and Johnston swears, The House is well defended by Its Armstrong and its Maule. Disraeli, with his Winnington, Contrives ten seats to Wynn, Reverses sore the Whigs have met A fearless Horsman has been thrown, But Derby chickens ere they're hatched. Wyse men of Marylebone elect, We've lost a Barron, Clerk, and Craig, A dozen railway potentates In traffic to maintain. To crown this medley, sad and strange, As if our House were not enough Protection's dead, its grave is dug, The House provides a Coffin; A Packe of Fellowes, Young, and Hale, THE INDIAN CATAMOUNT.' THE Wild Cat is one of the most ferocious brutes which haunts the American forests. It is rarely met with, but when encountered is more to be dreaded than a jaguar or a bear with cubs. It is popularly and significantly called "Indian Devil." The Indians themselves regard it with immense horror, and it is the only animal which roams the wilds of which they stand in dread. Speak to the red man of the moose, the bear, or the wolf, and he is ready to encounter them; but name the object of his dread, and he will significantly shake his head, muttering, "he a!! one debbil." Mr. Springer, in his Forest Life, gives the following account of an encounter with the ferocious catamount. An individual, of the name of Smith was on his way to join a crew engaged in timber-hunting in the woods extending on the Arromucto, and he had nearly reached the place of encampment, when he fell in with one of the animals in question. "There was no chance for retreat, neither had he time for reflection on the best method of defence or escape; as he had no arms, or other weapons of defence, the first impulse in this truly fearful position, unfortunately perhaps, was to spring into a small tree hard by; but he had scarcely ascended his length, when the desperate creature, probably rendered still more fierce by the promptings of hunger, sprang upon and seized him by the heel. Smith, however, after having his foot badly bitten, disengaged it from the shoe, which was firmly clutched in the creature's teeth, and let him drop. The moment he was disengaged, Smith sprang for a more secure position, and the animal at the same time leaped to another large tree, about ten feet distant, up which ho ascended to an elevation equal to that of his victim, from which he threw himself upon him, firmly fixing his teeth in the calf of his leg. Hanging suspended thus until the flesh, in sufficient to sustain the weight, gave way, he dropped again to the ground, carrying a portion of flesh in his mouth. Having greedily devoured this morsel, he bounded again up the opposite tree, and from thence upon Smith, in this manner renewing his attacks, and tearing away the flesh in mouthfuls from his legs. During this agonizing operation Smith contrived to cut a limb from the tree, to which he managed to bind his jack-knife, with which he could now assail his enemy at every leap; he succeeded thus in wounding him so badly that at length his attacks were discontinued, and he finally disappeared in the dense forest. During the encounter, Smith had exerted his voice to the utmost to alarm the crew, who he hoped might be within hail; he was heard, and in a short time several of the crew reached the place, but not in time to save him from the fearful encounter. His garments were not only rent from him, but the flesh literally torn from his legs, exposing even the bone and sinews. It was with the greatest difficulty he made the descent of the tree; exhausted through loss of blood, and overcome by fright and exertion, he sank upon the ground, and immediately fainted, but the application of rum restore him to consciousness. Preparing a litter from poles and boughs, they conveyed him to the camp, washed and dressed his wounds as well as circumstances would allow, and, as soon as possible, removed him to the nearest settlement, where medical aid was secured. After a protracted period of confinement he gradually recovered from his wounds, though still carrying terrible scars, and sustaining irreparable injury. Such desperate encounters are, however, of rare occurrence, though collisions less sanguir ary are not unfrequent."-Eliza Cook's Journal. RAMBLINGS BY THE RIVER. I REMEMBER being particularly struck during my first journey through the bush, by the deep, and to me, solemn silence that reigned unbroken, save by the tapping of a wood-pecker, the sharp scolding note of the squirrel, or the falling of some little branch when stirred by the breeze which was heard moaning or sighing in the tops of the lofty pines above us, but was scarcely felt in these dense woods through which our road lay. For miles and miles, not a clearing was seen to break the lonely way, and let in a glimpse of light and air. Once my eye was gladdened by the bright and gorgeous flash of the summer red-bird, the tanager, as it darted across the path and disappeared among the shining beech trees. Accustomed only to the sober plumage of our British songsters, I marvelled at the glorious color of this lovely gem of the forest, and watched till my eyes were weary for another such beautiful vision, but watched in vain, for shy and solitary, these lovely birds seek the deep recesses of the forest and even there are not often seen. All day long we journeyed or through that deep, still, forest gloom, and night found us on the shore of the lake, just where it narrows between two rounding shores and sweeps past the little headland with eddying * The hoarse, never-ceasing murmur, which for ages and ages has broken the silence of these solitudes unheard and unheeded, save by the Indian hunter, first met my ears at the termination of my first journey through the wilderness, at nightfall, as I sat watching the little bark canoe, with its pine torch dancing on the surface of the rapids, that my good brother was paddling across the lake to ferry us over to his forest home. He had but just broken the bush in that location, and all was wild, and rough, and rude; but unbounded kindness went far to make the rough places smooth to the home-sick uninitiated emigrants. How many things that then seemed new and strange, and incomprehensible in the economy of a Canadian settlers household; have since become familiar and expedient. How many a time in after years did I recall to mind my dear good sisterin-law's oft repeated words-"Wait till you have been in Canada a few years, and then you will better understand the difficulties of a bush settler's life." Perhaps, among the trials of the farmer there is none more trying to his patience, and often to his pocket, than receiving relations and friends from the Old Country into their houses. On the one side there is a great amount of disappointment, regret, and disgust to be overcome; and generally, this ill-humour is unjustly and ungraciously vented in the presence of the friends whose hospitality they are sharing. On the other hand, the mortified host and hostess are inclined to tax their guests with a selfish disregard of their feelings and convenience, and think while they eat of their hardly earned bread, and fill the limited space of their little dwelling, it is not grateful to repay them only with discontent and useless repining Such things ought not so to be. In a former number I pointed out the evil of such selfish conduct. Let no one take undue advantage of generous hospitality, but during an unavoidable sojourn with friends, let each strive to render every assistance in their power to lighten the burden. There is always needle-work that females can assist in teaching the young children, and many light household matters that may spare the weary wife or mother an extra hour of fatigue, while the men can help in the work that is going on in the clearing: it is not well to eat the bread of idleness. |