A Voyage on the Northern Light

A Voyage in the ‘Northern Light’

Frank Haslewood

From Murray’s Magazine, VOL. III—NO. XIII, 1888.

Digitized by Doug Frizzle, http://Stillwoods.Blogspot.Com, March 2016

During the winter months, all communication between Prince Edward Island and the mainland by ordinary vessels is closed by the dangerous ice which at that time fills Northumberland Strait, and renders navigation impossible, except by specially constructed craft. Anyone whom chance at this time compels to travel from one side to the other has the choice of two routes—one by the Dominion Government Ice-steamer Northern Light, running as opportunity offers between Pictou, in Nova Scotia, and Georgetown, on the island, a distance of about 45 miles, the other by ice-boats between Cape Traverse on the island, and Cape Tormentine on the mainland, a distance of about 9 miles. However, it generally happens that no choice offers, for while the 'Northern Light' commences running as soon as navigation is impossible for the ordinary passenger steamers, the ice-boats do not generally start work until the ice has prevented the 'Northern Light' being relied upon for a daily trip. Roughly the steamer runs up to about the 20th of January, and again from about the 10th of March, till navigation re-opens, while the ice-boats commence about the 15th of January, and run till about the 10th of April, the dates of course changing with the character of the winter.

Being compelled to reach Halifax (N. S.) on a certain day, and finding the ice-steamer at the time somewhat erratic in her movements, owing to an immense and unusual quantity of ice in the strait, I determined on what is known as "the Capes route," my decision being influenced by the fact that the postal authorities had determined to use the same route for the transmission of mails. Accordingly, one 14th of January, I left Charlotte Town at 3 P.M., by train for County Line station, whence sleighs are procurable for Cape Traverse. The 31 miles being safely negotiated, a stay of an hour was necessary while the sleighs were getting ready, and at 6.30 we (for I was fortunate enough to find a friend travelling the same way) left for Cape Traverse, the night being luckily brilliantly lit up by a moon nearly at the full. As ours was the first trip of the season, the track, which later on is plain and well worn, was at this time only existing in the imagination of our drivers, as the snow was lying in all its virgin purity so deep that only the top-rail of the fences was visible in many places, and our horses had to stagger along generally well up to their bellies. This being the condition of the track, it is not to be wondered at that the thirteen miles from the railway to Cape Traverse occupied fully four hours, and as the thermometer was somewhere about zero, we were, in spite of numerous fur-coats and rugs, heartily glad when the lights of Muttart’s hotel announced the end of our journey. Here we found accommodation for the night, and having learnt that there was every probability of an early start and a good crossing, we slept the sleep of the just, in a small four-double-bedded-room, through which the stove-pipe passed from the room below and diffused an uncomfortable degree of unwholesome warmth.

Seven the next morning found us up and eager to start, and a few minutes later the boats’ crews appeared, and preparations commenced in earnest. The ice-boats themselves may be described, as far as description is necessary, in a few words: they are simply flattish-bottomed boats, 15 to 18 feet long, and about 5 feet beam; they are fitted with two keels, 15 inches apart, which, while the boat is on the ice, act as runners and convert her into a sleigh. For convenience of hauling out of the water and on to the ice, they have flat bows (like a Chinese sampan) carried well aft and this enables them also to take the water again more comfortably than would a boat with the ordinary stem. For hauling on the ice, a number of leather belts are fitted with manilla attachment to the thwarts, and each man of the crew, as well as each passenger, has one of these told off to him; these tow-lines answer another purpose, for should any one in dragging fall through the ice, the strap will bring him up. Everything being in readiness, a start was made from the house at about 8 A.M., the two boats being drawn by horses as far as the condition of the "board," or shore ice, rendered practicable, and after that crew and passengers in the drag- ropes hauled them over till water was reached. This dragging, even on smooth ice, is sufficient exercise to put the blood in good circulation, and do away with the necessity for any extra clothing, care, however, being taken to protect the nose and cars.

At the edge of the board ice, we found the tide running past at about a knot an hour, but the clumpets of ice passing at the same time gave quite a novel experience, making one feel, for a second or so, quite giddy; however, the "Captain " launched us out, and the four boatmen taking their places, away we pulled, the skipper very cleverly availing himself of the lanes of water to make progress as nearly in the required direction as possible. When no passage appeared, out jumped the bowman, painter in hand, on to the ice, then followed the crew and last of all the passengers, and all being once more harnessed, away we go again, over the field ice till water once again compels us to take to the boat. On smooth ice the boat goes along easily and rapidly enough, but where big pieces (clumpets) have been piled one upon another, the labour is hard and the progress slow. The hardest work is getting the boat through what is called "lolly," a composition of half-frozen water, mixed with half-melted snow, with an occasional floating cake of ice, the whole packed too closely together to render pulling practicable, yet not firm enough to bear a man’s weight; through this it is only possible to make way very painfully and slowly with boat-hooks and paddles, and the lolly is consequently the bug-bear of the passage; we were lucky enough to get over with a good deal of open water, and not much lolly, as our journey was accomplished in three and a half hours to the board ice on the mainland shore.

The passage, as a rule, is made in about four hours, sometimes, however, taking six or seven or more, and much less frequently taking a little over two hours. The board ice on this side was very heavy, big clumpets sticking up everywhere, with the intervening space filled with soft snow several feet deep, and here one may get pretty severe bruises from slipping through the snow till the shin-bone brings one up on the sharp edge of a piece of blue ice. The only danger in crossing on a fine day is from frost-bite, or getting wet through falling through the ice; but as a rule care will prevent the former, while the latter is guarded against by keeping one hand on the gunwale of the boat, while tracking and standing by to throw the weight on to the boat should the ice appear treacherous.

We arrived at Cape Tormentine about noon, and here we had a somewhat rough but very welcome meal preparatory to another sleigh drive of 40 miles to Amherst, the nearest station on the Intercolonial line. About 17 miles from Cape Tormentine a stay is made at Port Elgin to change horses, and the whole journey from the Cape to Amherst occupied about seven hours. We arrived at the latter place about 8 P.M., just in time to escape a very heavy rain storm, which lasted three days. As we took train here the novelty of the journey ceases, to be resumed on our arrival at Pictou for our trip by the 'Northern Light' to Georgetown.

Since taking the above trip I have made another crossing, and in the interval some very important improvements have taken place. The Prince Edward Island Railway now runs down to Cape Traverse, and the whole journey from Charlotte Town takes two hours. A very fair hotel, the Lansdowne, has been built there, affording good accommodation. On the mainland again a line is contemplated, I think partly graded from Cape Tormentine to Amherst, and when this is completed the Capes route will have lost one of its greatest terrors, a cold sleigh drive of 40 miles. As to the actual crossing, the accidents are very few and very far between. Thirty years ago a party was out, I think, three days, and at last made the mainland nearly opposite Charlotte Town, one man, a young medical student, having died; while another, now a popular medical man in Charlotte Town, lost both feet at the instep from frost-bite. In January 1885 three boats left Cape Traverse, and, being caught in an easterly snow storm, had to remain out all night on a pan of ice, with the temperature at 16 deg. below zero. They burnt one boat and a bag of newspapers, and finally landed late on their second afternoon. Of these men few escaped without some injury—one man lost both hands and feet, while others lost fingers, toes, or portions of hands or feet. Still I believe I am right in saying no mail has ever been lost, and this speaks volumes for the skill and pluck of these men who, during the hardest months of the winter, form the only link between Prince Edward Island and the main.

On my return journey I arranged to go by the ice-steamer from Pictou in Nova Scotia, to Georgetown on Prince Edward's Island. When I arrived at Pictou I found that the 'Northern Light' had not come in, and I had to wait there five days for her. The heavy rain, which commenced just after our arrival at Amherst, had at Pictou, and in fact all over Nova Scotia, caused such a "silver thaw" as had not been known for five-and-twenty years. The rain falling at a very low temperature, had frozen on everything as it fell, and the telegraph wires particularly presented a most unusual spectacle, as they had a coating of at least half an inch of clear ice, the wires themselves being plainly visible like the thread as seen in a string of crystal beads. All along them, too, were small pendant icicles, and the weight of this collection of ice was in many places so great as to break the wires. Near Pictou there is a road running between large willows, and as every tiny twig had its coating of ice, the effect, as one drove through with the setting sun glinting upon these thousands of little mirrors, was one of singular beauty, an effect that the proprietors of ornamental trees will be indeed sorry to see repeated, as the broken branches which strewed the roads showed how disastrous this silver thaw had been.

At last, on the 20th of January, the steamer arrived, and that same evening we went on board to be ready for an early start. I was lucky enough to get a cabin, a matter of some little difficulty, as, owing to the delay, passengers had been collecting at Pictou for a week back; so that, when we came to count heads, it was found that we had forty-seven passengers, while the vessel only afforded sleeping accommodation for eighteen, so that the majority had to sleep where they could, some on the saloon deck, some on the tables and lockers, and "others elsewheres," as Punch’s cabman has it. Of the forty-seven passengers, five were women, and one a baby girl of eighteen months, the private property of the writer; in fact my business in Halifax had been to meet my wife, who, with the above-mentioned child and her nurse, were now on board.

At 7 A.M. on the 21st of January, we left the board ice at Pictou and proceeded on our way, following the lanes of water as well as we could, occasionally coming across fields of eight-inch ice through which the vessel had to cut her way. Into ice of this thickness, with a run of 60 or 70 yards, she can cut about her own length, and has then to be backed to ram the ice again and again till a passage is cleared. Working on in this way, we got on so well that we had a fair prospect of making the trip before dark, but about 4 P.M. we got among field ice at least 12 inches thick, and out of this no way was visible. The vessel was rammed at this, but the progress made was so slight, that it was thought wise to wait till next morning for a better opening. The shock with which the vessel came against this thick ice was so severe that it was difficult to keep one’s feet, and it most certainly proved the great strength of the vessel and the confidence of her commander, Captain Finlayson, that she should come out of these charges, made at full speed, altogether uninjured.

Chart of the Northern Light’s Course.

We had by this time arrived within about 8 miles of the island shore, and 20 miles from Georgetown, so our prospect was a good one. Next day, (Saturday), however, we found her firmly fixed in the pack, and had to be content with breaking the ice round the vessel, so that should an opening occur we might be ready for it. On Sunday the 23rd, no opening came, so we had to make ourselves as happy as we could. This was hard enough, for the field had drifted much closer to the island, and the contemplation of the land where we would be was not cheering when separated from it by impenetrable blue ice. This Sunday is marked in my mental log by the remarkable fact, that a passenger with a fiddle, who had since leaving Pictou, played jigs, apparently without stopping even for necessary food or sleep, was compelled by his ignorance of sacred music to maintain an unwilling silence; but this so preyed on his mind that he remained up till midnight, when he recommenced his secular strains; remembering that he, poor fellow, had no place to sleep in, it seemed hard to deprive him of his pleasure, so he was allowed to go on in peace.

On Monday morning (the 24th), the prospect being still as bad as ever, one of the two ice-boats belonging to the ship was lowered on to the ice and sent ashore with sixteen passengers (of whom the fiddler was one) and six of the crew, the latter being sent to bring the boat back. This party reached the shore, about 7 miles off, about 1 P.M., having started at 8 A.M., and all, save for some slight frost-bites, were well. The boat returned to us on Thursday the 27th. During her absence, and to raise our drooping spirits, we started games of football on the ice, using a small ball of old clothes for the usual "leather." The ship during this time was closely packed and drifting with the ice slowly to the eastward.

On the 28th a movement of the ice caused the ship to be heavily nipped, the field on one side remaining stationary, while that on the other kept pressing against the side. Remembering that the ice was quite a foot thick and was being forced on the ship by the movement of a field extending as far as the eye could reach, some idea may be formed of the strain to which the vessel was subjected. The beams kept up a dismal creaking and bent up in some cases a couple of inches, and the ice cracked with frequent loud reports, as, unable to force the ship, it gave to the weight behind it and piled in big blocks alongside.

The awful part of this nipping is the feeling of utter helplessness with which you see it. Nothing you can do with any human assistance appears likely to help, and there you stand, watching as calmly as you may the struggle between this natural force and that you have to pit against it; you know cither you must give way or the ice must, and you anxiously wonder which it is to be. However, after about an hour of this, the running ceased, the beams gradually resumed their normal positions, and all of us breathed freely once more, thankful to that Providence which had rescued us.

On this day it was deemed advisable, not knowing how long we might be imprisoned, to reduce our daily three meals to two, and these were not to include fresh meat, that luxury being reserved for the baby, a luxury, by the way, that she enjoyed all through our detention in the ice, and to which I suppose she owes the fact that she came out of this adventure alive.

On Saturday (the 30th of January) the ice-boat left again at 7 A.M. with fourteen passengers and eight crew, the shore then being distant about 9 miles. This party was not as lucky as the first, for night came on before they reached the shore, and so they camped on the ice under the lee of the boat. Some of the passengers were with difficulty kept from sleeping, while others stamped monotonously up and down until daylight showed them the land, distant about 2 miles, with a narrow strip of lolly separating them from the board ice. This lolly was so thick, that weary as they were they found themselves utterly unable to force their boat through it, so leaving her on the ice, they all struck out with boat-hooks and oars struggling for the shore, and sometimes knee deep, sometimes up to their necks, and sometimes lucky enough to get on a clumpet sufficient foothold for another spring, they all at length came safe to land.

Of this party several were badly frost-bitten, one so seriously that it was at first feared that he must lose both feet, but careful nursing brought him through with only the loss of a couple of toes; however, he never was himself again, and died a few months later. The boat was afterwards recovered by some people from the shore, but she never came back to us, and we were much exercised about her, as the signal fire they were ordered to light on their arrival was never shown, and consequently we were much afraid that ill had befallen them.

The day after the departure of the second boat-load we had at 5 A.M. the heaviest nip to which the vessel has during her five years’ work been subjected, and the iron beam running across between the boilers was bent and displaced so much, that on the ship’s recovering herself, the beam drew its bolts and remained in its maimed condition, a monument to the severity of the strain. Another beam farther aft was also considerably injured, and after this nip, too, the vessel commenced to leak considerably, but not sufficiently to be dangerous, as the donkey pump could clear the ship working twenty minutes a watch, or two hours a day. The iron beam to which the ship’s safety on this occasion was principally due was put in, I believe, at Capt. Finlayson’s suggestion, after the ship’s first season’s work as an additional protection in her weakest spot

All this time we were drifting slowly but constantly to the eastward, and after another week’s monotonous confinement it was determined to send away the ship’s sole remaining ice-boat, and she accordingly left on the 9th of February with eleven passengers, of whom two were women, and three of the crew. This reduced our number to nineteen in all, or allowing for the three women, the child, and a sick passenger, thirteen all told to work the ship, and of these not one was rated a seaman. This last party started for the shore, then distant about 13 miles at 7 A.M., and they were out all night, reaching Georgetown at 10 the next morning; luckily the women, one of whom had walked two-thirds of the way, while the other insisted upon being dragged in the boat, were well; but some of the passengers and a fireman were badly bitten; the latter's bite I presume is mainly attributable to the nature of his occupation having made his feet tender.

Shortly after this diminution of our numbers, the ice ahead of us opened showing a long lane of water, from which we were separated by about 20 yards of solid ice and a "pan" or ice island about 50 yards in diameter; the latter we hoped to be able to move bodily. We commenced to cut the ship free, contenting ourselves the first day with sawing and breaking out the surface ice for 2 feet all round the ship, and hauling the broken pieces up on the main pack so as to leave the vessel clear; we also cut away the ice about 9 feet from her stem, so as to allow the ship to move her engines. After the departure of the last load of passengers we had found it necessary, or wise, to reduce the food allowance to one full meal at 1 P.M., and this with work on the ice from 7 A.M., was little enough. Working every day we managed by the 11th to cut a strip of ice out, relieving the pan or ice island already mentioned; this we afterwards started with screw-jacks and pinch-bars, and wind and tide moved it clear for us, so that now we only had the 20 yards of ice to clear away between us and a lead which extended as far as the eye could reach.

During this day’s work, the writer, with his usual handiness, walked into a hole with an 8-foot iron bar, and, not having, sense enough to let it go, he stood a fair chance of accompanying it below the ice; but the skipper's voice warned him of the folly of this proceeding, and he was hauled on to the ice a colder, a wetter, and, we hope, a wiser man. Every one but the sick man and the women helped, and, as the latter did the cook’s and. steward’s work, these men shared in the labour of ice-cutting.

By the afternoon of the 12th of February we had managed to cut a passage 25 feet wide from the ship to the water, and so we tried the ship’s engines. The motion of the vessel started the ice under her bottom, and it came up choking our canaL These lumps we got rid of at last, but one was so big that it had to be smashed up into three pieces before it could be cleared; and, as this lump took twelve men working hard an hour to move out, its size may be guessed at. To realize the nature of the work of clearing a passage, it is necessary to point out that the ice here was packed lump under lump below the surface ice, and was in many places quite 20 feet thick, though, of course, when the upper cake (generally 3 or 4 feet thick) was started, a good deal of the rest came up, but some pieces could not free themselves and remained partly under the surface ice and partly jutting into our canal. Of the lump we had so much bother with, I can only call it a small berg, which, when cleared, floated quite 3 feet out of water, indicating a thickness of, at least, 15 feet.

It was night when we had completed our passage and cleared it, so, although we had a good moon, we determined to leave her where she was till daylight All that night it blew a whole gale from the S.E., and, as the ship’s head pointing through our passage was N.W., we found it clear in the morning, and the wind had opened a good deal more water, so we got up steam. Just five minutes before steam was up, the ice on our quarter opened; but, unfortunately, the released field, influenced by the wind, swung right across our poor little canal, and after a week’s labour we were barred again. Any one wishing to know what a sudden depression of spirits is, should try and fancy himself in our position. At one moment a straight opening to a patch of clear water of unknown extent, at the next all our hopes smashed—our chances of escape all vanished. However, it wasn’t as bad as it might have been, for in a short time the ice again swung, our canal once more appeared, and, steam being all ready, our good ship forged ahead out of the cradle in which she had lain for over three weeks.

On we went through the lanes of water, making what progress we could and in any direction, so that we approached the island, for coal was now scarce, and our one object was to make the island board ice anywhere. By 3 P.M. we had worked up to within 4 miles of the island shore, but the loose ice, blown up from the south-eastward by the last night's gale, now lay closely packed against the island board ice. One good thing cheered us here—namely, the certainty that now at least our island friends knew where we were, and we felt sure that every effort would be made to bring us ashore.

All Sunday afternoon and night we kept steam handy and availed ourselves of every opening; but still we were gradually setting towards the east end of the island, distant at sunset about 7 miles. What was to happen if the drift took us beyond East Cape with little food, little coal, and little chance of help from the island, I think none of us cared to look into too closely. During the night the watchful care of our skipper in availing himself of every chance, kept us fairly in position, and we hoped for good resulting from a strong N.W. breeze which was likely to set the ice from the island shore, and give us a chance of clear water inside. During this night the writer gave another instance of his peculiar handiness. The Northern Light has often to steam astern with much ice in her track, and, to prevent accidents which might easily happen from her rudder coming in contact with ice during stemway, a strong clamp of iron passes round the drum of her wheel and is controlled by a firm pressure on a footplate near the helmsman. The writer, in the absence of the crew with the ice-boats, was at the helm and was perfectly acquainted with the peculiarities of the situation. Once, and only once, his mind was allowed during stemway to travel to the joys of reaching land, when in a second the wheel took charge, flew round, and slung the wretched scribbler of these lines violently against the opposite side of the wheelhouse. I said he forgot himself once; with this reminder of his fault it is not necessary to say that it did not occur again. Valentine’s Day broke upon us fine and bright, and, to our great joy, showed us a clear strip of water bordering the board ice, and in this, with high spirits and thankful hearts, we steamed smoothly along at about nine knots an hour, making fast in the board ice at Georgetown at 11 A.M., twenty-four days out from Pictou.

As we entered the harbour we picked up an ice-boat, and I was surprised to recognize in its crew the very men who just that day month had taken me across the straits. The agent of Marine and Fisheries, alarmed for our safety, had ordered this crew up from Cape Traverse, to attempt the relief of the ship, as our provisions were known to be short. Four years later I crossed the straits with the skipper of this crew, and he said in speaking of the incident: “What we wanted to see was the baby, and when they held her up we would have cheered, but we were too glad to see her alive to think of it.” If their hearts were full, what were ours when at the end of this cruise, we said good-bye to those who had been our companions during a 46 miles passage of twenty-four days? To Captain Finlayson and his officers, we owe much, and they know our gratitude is theirs.

Perhaps the greatest personal hardship I had to undergo during this cruise was the deprivation of tobacco for a fortnight, and this is a trial, the severity of which, none who read this can understand, unless (being constant smokers) they have been placed in similar positions. My tobacco lasted about ten days, and as we always hoped to get out in a day or two, I did not cut down my expenditure until too late to make the reduction of any practical use in prolonging my enjoyment. After about a week of hopeless longing for the solace of a pipe, I accidentally heard that the second mate, who was ashore with one of the ice-boats, usually carried tobacco in his chest, and as he was the captain's brother, I tried to prevail upon our commander to examine the box. However, it proved to be locked, but my evident disappointment conquered the captain's scruples, and the bottom of the chest was taken off, and we discovered two figs of what under ordinary circumstances I should have considered unsmokable tobacco, but which now was a veritable treasure; brother smokers will understand how it was shared out and enjoyed. The memory of the pipefuls then carefully smoked will remain with me longer than that of any "Old Gold," or "Straight Cut No. 1" I’ve consumed before or since. Had we had more tobacco, I've no doubt our reduced allowance of food would have seemed more ample, for I well remember, how, when encamped for a lengthened period, as part of a shipwrecked crew, on a desert island in the Indian Ocean, the fact of our having a plentiful supply of the fragrant weed staved off the pangs of hunger, which naturally and frequently arose with an allowance of four ounces of biscuit, and half a pound of meat.

On a Tobogan

On a Tobogan.

by Agnes Macdonald

From Murray's Magazine VOL. III.—NO. XIII. 1888.

I came across this author by accident and had to wonder why some of her stories were not more prominent on the web. She was the wife of our first Prime-Minister Sir John A. MacDonald./drf

Of the many sports and pastimes that make life cheery during the long winters of Canada none is more popular or more fashionable at present than toboganing in those parts of the Dominion where cold is steady, and a hard frost pretty sure to hold its own after an abundant snowfall for weeks together under a clear sky.

The tobogan—corruption of the Indian word odabagan a sled, adopted by the white man as a light and graceful vehicle whereon to slide down icy slopes for pastime or exercise—has always been, and still is, in constant use among Indians, wild and semi-civilized, to transport for the former his dead game or fire-wood, for the latter his hunting supplies or scanty belongings, as well as anything else either may desire to carry from camp to camp. As the luggage van to a "pale face" so is the tobogan to a savage, with the difference that a tobogan is only available in winter and on snow.

A sledge, which is indeed only a short tobogan on runners, is ill adapted for travelling on any kind of snow track, or where there is no track at all, for the runners sink when the sledge is loaded, whereas the same weight being equally distributed on a tobogan's flat surface is more easily and safely hauled.

In the North-West Territories of Canada, among the semi-civilized or "treaty Indians"—those who have entered into negotiations with the Government and receive yearly supplies of food, farming implements, and seed, &c.—the lord of the teepi or wigwam, has the best of it when the family travel, for harnessed by a "tump line," or thong of raw deer hide passing round her forehead and attached to the tobogan, the squaw toils on hour after hour, hooded in her long draped blanket, while he steps out in his fringed leggings and shorter blanket carrying, if anything, only a light gun.

But except in style and shape those shabby patched-up conveyances bear small resemblance to their smart descendant the tobogan of a higher civilization in use to-day for sliding (or toboganing as it is incorrectly called) down artificial or carefully prepared slopes, when a gay company assemble to take spiced wine or tea in the intervals of exercise, as they stand or sit about fancy "log cabins" lined with chintz sofas, or in stove-warmed marquees carpeted with furs.

Still made by Indians only, but "to order" now, and handsomely fashioned, the correct tobogan of to-day is formed of two smooth strips of birch or maple wood, each from nine to ten feet long, ten inches wide, and about an eighth of an inch thick, laid close together. Of these strips about two feet at one end is turned or curled over (by a steaming process and with raw-hide thong compresses) to within six inches of their floor, and connected at each edge by slight supports of stiffly twisted deer hide with the first cross rod. Of these cross rods there are five or six down the whole length of the strips, and lashed thereto with "babeesh," or thongs of raw deer hide, in this way uniting the strips (which we must now call the tobogan) firmly together. These cross rods, about an inch in diameter, are flattened on the lower side, and the thongs which lash them to the tobogan floor are placed about four inches apart and counter-sunk sufficiently deep to prevent them from interfering with the smooth surface of the tobogan underneath, which can never be too smooth for easy sliding, as any hitch or check is almost sure to send the occupant head-over-heels down the steep. Side rods, also about one-inch in diameter, and passing down each edge of the structure, rest on the cross rods an inch or so from the outside edge, and form a sort of hand-rail sufficiently high from the tobogan floor to allow the fingers to pass under and grip. These hand-rails are necessary in "Society" tobogans to hold on to while flying down hill, and in domestic or Indian ones as a means of securing those lashings necessary to keep pack or carcase in its place during a journey. The hand-rails must extend well up under the curled end or bow, which bow is strengthened on the front edge by a cross-bar fastened there by thongs to keep the curled boards from separating.

Neatly finished and polished, the tobogan is then made comfortable with a cunning little crimson rep mattrass about two inches thick, a trifle narrower than the tobogan, and fastened to it with red braid ties passed round the hand-rail at each junction with the cross rods. A thick gaily-coloured worsted cord attached to each side of the bow, forming a long loop, is used for dragging the tobogan by hand to the place of rendezvous or the solitary hill to which a grumpy slider goes for some "good exercise" all alone in his glory. If the rendezvous be distant, and the slider proceeds thither in his sleigh, the tobogan is fastened immediately behind it, and on these occasions it is not uncommon to see a pedestrian, tired of dragging his tobogan so far, wait till a passing sleigh gives him the opportunity to throw his cord to a friend inside, jump on the tobogan and, thus towed, complete his journey quite comfortably!

In the more primitive days of Canada, when the fun was called "coasting," and carried on in less exalted circles than is the case now, roughly made "hand sleds" of common painted wood, with low steel or iron-shod runners underneath, and projecting a few inches in front, the whole about four feet long and nine inches wide, were in constant use on natural slopes or hill sides, and formed the pet diversion of small boys and school-girls and rather fast "grown-ups," as little Dorrit would say, who liked strong exercise and feared not Mrs. Grundy.

A pleasant flavour of mischief was added to the sliding attractions of that day, for Mamma often said "No," and then came the excitement of being caught some bright moonlit night a mile or so from home, packed with one's bosom friend on a "coaster," as the sled is called, tearing down a steep forest roadway, and then scudding away—away, breathless, dishevelled, and nearly shaken to death, over the frozen surface of some lonely pine-fringed lake!

Such unprepared, rarely-used slides were very often both rough and dangerous. Many a "cropper," as the boys said, had we the truant sliders of those good old days—many a roll in the deep snow, sometimes even a sprained ancle or twisted shoulder, which stopped the fun for that evening and obliged us to sit on a fallen tree or log fence and take counsel what it was best to do, which generally resulted in a long cold wait until a low "bob" sleigh, packed with firewood cut in lengths, would come jogging out of the forest, when we would step out into the moonlight and beg a lift home.

Artificial slides—or a sort of narrow sloping causeway mounted on stout posts, joists, beams, and planks used to lengthen a natural declivity, or to supply a steep descent on level ground—were very uncommon if invented at all at that time in Canada, and "coasting" was classed with "romps," which classing was indeed libellous, and, as we children declared, a "horrid shame" but even then, and for years previous, the sport had been enjoyed in great perfection at what is known as the Upper Cone at Montmorenci Falls, eight miles below Quebec. Here, where the Montmorenci River pours over a sixty-feet wide ledge of rock and plunges, a boiling cataract, 240 feet into the St Lawrence below, the spray and vapour driven from those torn and foaming waters—circling rainbow-tinted for ever and ever round the rocky base—freeze in winter with constantly increasing height. By February this frozen spray, so thickening and growing, has formed a sugar-loaf shaped cone from eighty to a hundred feet high, with another rounder cone near it of much smaller dimensions. The upper cone, reared close in front of the Fall, at an angle of sixty degrees, its crown in a mist of spray and its foot on the frozen river, is awful enough to climb on shallow uneven steps hewn up one icy slide; but who can convey the terrors of the moment when first the uninitiated gaze down that fair and gleaming precipice, and realize there is absolutely no other way of getting down again but on sled or tobogan, piloted by a "Habitant" or French-Canadian boy, who, crouched in front of the one or perched at the square end of the other, informs you by signs (for the roaring waters make speech inaudible) that it is time to start!

Very distinctly can I recall my own emotions under just such circumstances twenty years ago, and how my teeth chattered and knees smote together, between fear and cold, as I crouched on a sled behind my small conductor, with nothing to keep me there but the mortal dread of getting off, and felt the first—gentle—slip! Away we went, "swift as an arrow from the Tartar's bow," with a downward madness that almost took breath, sense, and sight clean away, until, what seemed to me several hours after, I found myself half-a-mile across the frozen St Lawrence still sticking to the sled as it "slowed up," and observed, somewhat with astonishment, I was still on my accustomed planet safe and sound, a trifle unstrung and giddy, but much exhilarated, and quite ready to try it all over again!

Toboganing and Coasting first became fashionable in Canada when adopted by those agreeable warriors who, as officers of Guards, Rifles, and Line, with their regiments were sent to Canada at the time England was—as Punch's cartoon of the day put it—"waiting for an answer" from America about the Trent affair. Suspense over, bluster backed down, and the Southern travellers safe in London, nothing remained for those eminently social heroes but to amuse themselves for the winter. This they did to their hearts' content. Never men made better use of a good opportunity. There were rinks crowded with struggling skaters, ball-rooms red with uniforms, snow roads lined with tandems, "drill" tramped on snowshoes, ice floors skimmed by anxiously watched curling stones, and many a snowy hillside darted over by the hand sleigh or tobogan, guided by some stalwart amateur absorbed in the effort to keep straight, so that the "finish" should find him something in line with the "start," and not thirty yards off, prostrate and bruised, his cropped head in the snow, his heels in the air, and his eyes dimmed with those horrible stars of shock and pain which blot out the noonday, and force the sufferer to the conclusion that he has had a bad fall!

"Upon my life," said Brown of the Rifles to Jones of the Line, one cold winter's day about that time, "I don't see how the thing sticks on!"

"Jove!" Brown responded, shaking his wise head; "neither do I."

Guests at a Canadian winter pic-nic to Montmorenci Falls and Cone, these two, lately "joined" in Canada, stood near the foot of the upper cone, and spoke as a small sled, guided by its daring owner, pitched over the first "drop" at the summit and dashed past them like a horizontal rocket.

About fifty strong, military and civilians, with a sprinkling of fair ladies, the clearest of heavens bent over the gay party as just unpacked from a line of smoking tandems, piled with fur robes and foot muffs, we—for I was one of them—stood waiting for orders what to do next. Before us lay a stretching landscape in contrasts of white and blue. Virgin snow glittered under a deep blue dome. Opposite our halting-place a darkly falling mass of furrowed water—silver on the far up sky-line, wreathed in shining vapour, and generally flashing all over with a dazzling mist of sparkle—poured down into a shallow of the frozen river we stood on. A hundred feet against its face, at an angle of some fifty degrees, rose the great sugar-loaf, sharply defined yet flecked with blowing spray; and towards our party a dozen or more dark-eyed "Habitant " boys, each with his gaudy sled, hurried to get the first chance of what an English cabby would call a "fare."

Most of the party "stuck," as Mr. Jones remarked, to the smaller cone, and had great fun there, but some bold spirits adventured the higher one, scrambled painfully up the rough, broken slippery cut-out stairway to stand for a few moments on the narrow summit, deafened with roaring water and blinded with spray, till their turn came to start, carefully tucked up lest a stray fold might catch the tobogan and "slew" both unfortunates to the bottom of the slide.

What a dizzy rush it was to be sure, on that keenly cold after-noon, when, after a headlong pitch down the angle and a leap across the slight concave below it, one touched again farther down and raced on until brought up slowly on the plain from sheer loss of impetus!

But how proud the after moment when once again in a group of gazing friends one felt sufficiently collected to assume that air of indifference and nonchalance which people are so fond of affecting when half dead with fright!

"Tell me," said Jones, earnestly to his friend Brown, who had twice made the rush and each time had returned looking white and unhappy, "tell me, did you like it?" But Brown was not caught so easily.

"Oh, bother," he answered irritably; "it is the thing to do, and I have done it!"

Before sunset we were called to dinner in a cave hollowed out at the base of the upper cone, and entered near the Fall. Rather a giddy portal for weak nerves was the great green archway draped with glittering icicles and a network of beautiful frost shapes facing that cliff of water, with the booming of ages close at hand. Once entered we found ourselves in a wondrous fairy cavern—roof and walls of loveliest tints in green, supported by ice-hewn pillars. There, on ice-carved sofas, were stretched dark rugs of fur; and on an icy buffet no end of good things were spread with jugs of steaming coffee and hot, mixed wine. How we enjoyed that repast—what a capital drive home we had by tandem and starlight—what a merry dance in the Music Hall by way of a wind up, are all written in the delightful letter Jones mailed next day to the only girl he ever loved—of course I mean in England—he was quite desperate about at least six in Canada! The brilliant Irishman who was sent to Canada as Governor-General fifteen years ago, threw himself heartily into Canadian amusements, and, ably assisted by his family, staff, and party, paid special attention to the tobogan. His example has been imitated by each successor, and of course society has followed suit. Slides of every height, width, length, and angle are to be seen now in private grounds and even in back yards, down which "coasts" youth of all ages, from the big school-boy (who, however, prefers a steep street, with a chance "bobby" at the end of it) to the rosy toddler of four, who struggles with his tiny tobogan up the twenty-feet "chute," or slide—with its moderate eight-feet angle—and with woollen-gartered legs wide-stretched, slides gently down to the snow heap collected by nurse's orders to keep his excursion within limits.

Slides such as these are easily constructed, and give children capital exercise where a limited space and a great depth of snow make exercise hard to get. Six stout uprights of descending lengths, firmly planted in the ground, six feet apart, strengthened with cross beams, and floored as a bridge is floored with smooth boards, laid closely, and nailed on the frame, makes healthy winter's fun for very young people, and occupies many a holiday afternoon, not only by "coasting," but with the work of flattening and smoothing the fallen snow as it lies on the "chute," so as to make the surface hard packed and even, ready for the small conveyance which, though well fitted for its modest proportions, is yet long enough to carry two or three bundled-up, fur-capped mittened children, who are all the better pleased if there is a "spill" half-way down and a general roll to the bottom! Many a cold day these busy little architects may be seen patting down and smoothing the loose snow into proper shape, transporting more from below to fill up "holes" with their little wooden shovels, and even watering the smoothed surface to make it more slippery.

I saw one of these juvenile slides a few days ago fifty feet long at a safe angle, with rough wooden steps on one side leading to the snow-covered slope on the other. Four or five children in an ecstasy of enjoyment were scrambling up the stairway half-hauling, half-carrying their tobogans, to race down one after another. Literally covered with snow, for the time of hard dry snow is not yet, they were really pictures of health and happiness.

Of course natural hill sides are better and more picturesque than artificial ones, but they are not easily found adapted for toboganing. Good sliding depends very much on weather and the state of the snow. Damp sticky snow, or a thaw which has left the ice rough, as well as many other accidents, prevent much fun. The tobogan "won't go," and the slider gets wet. Neither is it easy to slide in tight-fitting or long garments. The costume worn by men here generally consists of thick knicker-bockers with heavy woollen stockings, mocassins of course, and a short double-breasted overcoat made of red, blue, or striped blankets, with a deep hood or "capuchon." This coat, girt loosely round the waist with a bright coloured fringed woollen sash, and a red or blue woollen "tuque " (an etherealized night-cap) its tassel hanging to the shoulder, finishes his equipment, with a pair of woollen or leathern mittens.

A woman's "get up" admits of greater variety in colour, and is often very dainty, albeit hooded blanket coats are de rigueur for them also, just reaching to the top of the mocassin, or short, so as to display a bright woollen skirt. Their tuques are smaller and closer, and generally almost concealed by the fleecy folds of a "cloud"—that peculiarly Canadian wrap which, consisting of a fringed strip of loosely knitted or woven thick soft wool nine feet long and eighteen inches wide, is both comfortable and becoming. To arrange one properly the cloud must be passed over the forehead, leaving one end half as long again as the other; both ends are then crossed behind the neck and drawn forward. The longest end passed once or twice about the neck—letting it lie snugly about ears, throat, cheeks, and chin—is next brought to meet the shorter one, when both are looped together, and the fringed ends fall over the left shoulder. A pretty sight it is to see a dark-eyed, bright-faced Canadian girl, wearing her blanket suit, shod with cariboo or moose hide mocassins daintily embroidered in stained porcupine quill, and muffled in her red or white cloud, seated ready for a start down hill, while her tall cavalier takes his place close behind her on the tobogan which is to flash them both through a thousand yards of bracing air.

Steering a tobogan well is an art not very easy to acquire, and on steep irregular hills, where obstructions are often close to the track, delicate management is required. Better not steer at all than steer too much—is the caution given to a novice. The lightest touch of foot or hand has a wonderful effect on a tobogan or coaster in full career, and all the accidents not due to positive carelessness may be set down to hasty, flurried steering. An experienced toboganer generally arranges himself as follows: Seated facing sideways on the square end of the tobogan—but always looking forward—he leans on the left hip, with the left leg loosely doubled on the tobogan, and supported by the left arm, of which the hand grasps the hand-rail or rod. The right leg doubled uppermost of course is rapidly extended when a "steer" is absolutely necessary, which is effected by the slightest possible touch of the toe on whatever side of the tobogan it is required. But it is seldom necessary except when nearing the end of a chute, to round a curve, to avoid some unexpected obstruction, or to set the bow straight occasionally. Any ill-judged attempt is pretty sure to end in a fall. Bad accidents are, however, rare, and a fatal one fortunately is more uncommon still. Mishaps occur more frequently when the steerer, as is the case sometimes, sits facing the tobogan bow, his legs extended on its cushioned floor, when steering is managed with touches of the mittened hand instead of the mocassined foot; but in this attitude it is almost impossible to keep any command over the structure at all.

The ladies sit in front, Turkish fashion and well tucked in on the tobogan. A long one will accommodate two or even three besides the steerer, when they sit one behind the other, the first close to the tobogan's curled bow. But the party looks best when only one pretty girl sits rather back, her neat little mocassin against the bow, and her smiling face not very far from her companion's, who from over her shoulder keeps his eyes fixed on the track.

I saw a chute last winter, partially artificial but heightening very steep ground, where the tobogan ran nearly eighteen hundred feet before it began to "slow;" and another, two hundred feet shorter, where the slide ran through a wood on a slight curve, which, if less safe, was more picturesque. The boarded sides about a foot high, which are necessary on artificial slides to prevent tobogans going over, give the effect of a sluiceway, and the Slide or Chute at Government House, Ottawa, is indeed a king among sluiceways, so long and wide is it, so smooth and carefully prepared. Here as near other well-built slides a long rough wooden stairway is constructed, which mounts the ascent parallel with the "chute," and on a lofty framework too, a border on one side just wide enough to fit a tobogan. This stairway and border meet a wide landing at the top of the Great Slide, so that, their rapid descent accomplished, each toboganer (with his companions) mounts the stairway, the tobogan drawn by its loop after him and close at his heels on the smooth border, until he reaches the landing so high in the air, and preparations are immediately made for a fresh start. Thus crowds move regularly on, some toiling up, some rushing down.

Especially is this scene made attractive on bright winter afternoons when their Excellencies are "At Home," and the announcement "Toboganing and Skating" is inscribed on a corner of the invitation card. On these festive occasions, besides the gay crowd of toboganers, two large, open-air rinks are crowded with costumed skaters, who perform all sorts of evolutions, dance quadrilles and lancers, waltz, cut graceful figures, and, above all, execute a march in perfect time, and drill with manoeuvres very similar to those performed in a "musical ride." Loud and gay music goes on all the time. Sometimes a maypole is fixed in the centre of the larger rink, from which hang brightly coloured ribbons some fifteen feet long. Assembling about this, sixteen of the best skaters, forming a set of eight, partners facing, and about four feet apart, start off altogether at a given sign, and on the so-called "Dutch roll" skate step, by a dexterous inter-weaving, plait the ribbons until drawn within a short distance of the pole by the ever-lessening ends, when, at another signal, all stop, and reversing, unplait the ribbons, which, falling loosely once more, are by another figure twisted neatly round the pole.

An annual midnight fête at Government House about Christmas time is particularly attractive, if the weather be fine and the cold not extreme. Then the little valley and the dark, sleeping woods around flush crimson in the glare of two enormous bon-fires, near which the "music" sits with circled stands on the snow. Engine headlights, placed at intervals, pour their white shafts of dazzle far and wide. Thousands of Chinese lanthorns glow in the air, and suspended on wires in double rows encircle each crowded rink, outline also both slide and stairway, and dance in vistas under the purple night sky. Great is the fun and merriment, for all the world is there. Those who themselves take no active part in the sports sit in a much-windowed building overlooking the grounds, and watch the swift gleam of many shining skates, or the flight of descending tobogans as they dart—a flash of light and colour—across the snowy landscape, for sometimes the foremost sitter holds aloft a blazing torch which throws a line of fire over her red and blue companions. Presently rockets, Roman candles, and lights orange, green, and blue, dazzle through the air, and as they fade out, a belt of dark wood is seen spanned with a contrivance in gas jets wishing all there present, as I now wish my readers in distant England, a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.