“We will give the names of our fearless race
To each bright river whose course we trace;
And will leave our mem’ry with mounts and floods.
And the park of our daring in boundless woods;
And our works unto many a lake’s green shore,
Where the Indians’ graves lay alone before.”

—Mrs Hemans.

IT is hardly possible to believe that only thirty-five years ago this part of Muskoka w as almost an unknown country. I have just been reading a little pamphlet published a few.’months ago by Mr. A. P. Cockburn, who may rightly be called the lather of the Muskoka Navigation Company. In it he says that in 1865 none of this region had even been surveyed by the Government.

The first work of any importance done here was the construction of the locks at Port Carling, which connected Muskoka Lake with Rosseau. This was followed by the canal being cut and bridged at Port Sandfield, connecting Lake Joseph with Rosseau, thus completing the direct route from Gravenhurst to Port Cockburn. The first boat on Lake Muskoka was the Wenonah, launched at Gravenhurst in June of 1866. The old Nipissing followed in 1871—this is the boat which was burnt in 1885.

At the time my father started for Muskoka, May 1873, the Northern Railway ran no farther than Wash ago. Thence our travellers had to go by stage to Gravenhurst, a long drive and over very rough roads, so that they were thankful to see Lake Muskoka and the welcome steamboat awaiting them. They came on this as far as Port Carling, on the Indian River, and from here they had to trust to their own devices for further progress. Mr. Roberts had. however, given them some pointers before leaving Toronto, and as there were a few English settlers already in this neighbourhood, they were fortunate enough to obtain accommodation for the night, and a rowboat in the morning with which to proceed to their destination; they also received numberless instructions as to the route. “Dale End” was the name of Mr. Barton's place; it might have been the “world’s end” from the distance it seemed to the occupants of the boat before they reached it. They had been directed to go up the Joseph River into Lake Joseph, the distance being considerably shorter, but as they rounded point after point, passed island after island, the course became almost bewildering, and they were nearly giving themselves up for lost.

It was a lovely day, Nature just bursting forth in all her spring beauty—the water sparkling in the sunshine. the woods with the vivid tints of the fresh young leaves contrasting with the sombre hues of the hemlocks and pines. The Joseph River struck them as being particularly beautiful; indeed, I think many of my readers who are familiar with these lakes will beat me out in saying that on a calm summer evening the reflections on this river are quite equal to those on the far-famed Shadow River at Rosseau.

My father was delighted with the scenery, and then and there fell “head over heels,” as you may say, in love with Muskoka. This love never changed through all the labor, care and troubles of the succeeding years, it only grew stronger as long as his life lasted. They found near the passage from the river into Lake Joseph a very narrow channel; only by pushing on the rocks with their hands could they get the boat through at all. These rocks have since been blasted out and the passage made more navigable.

It was late in the afternoon when our travellers arrived at their destination. The first glimpse of “Dale End” pleased them, for it was a better house than some they had seen at Port Carling ; indeed at that time it had the reputation of being quite a fine house. It possessed a bedroom, divided from the living room, and also a big loft overhead, to which you climbed by a ladder. Then there was a shed— one could hardly dignify it by the name of barn—a good-sized clearing, and an attempt at a garden.

On entering the house they found that it contained a rusty cooking-stove, a rough table or two, and some chairs; in the other room, a home-made bedstead and mattress. These. with a few kitchen utensils, completed the furniture.

The house stood not many yards from the lake, so they soon hauled up their little stock of provisions, bedding, and sundries from the boat and proceeded to make themselves at home. They lit a fire and made some tea, after which refreshment they went outside again to view’ their surroundings. So far as my father could judge, the place fully realized his expectations, so, after exploring in various directions until night came on, they returned to the house, made up their bed, and retired to rest in quite a happy frame of mind.

Next morning they were up bright and early, and ready to start work, for father was anxious to get some seeds in the ground as soon as possible. Things did not go so badly with them at first; it was toward the end of the month, and after there had been a few hot days, their troubles began, for the mosquitoes arrived in force. Oh! the mosquitoes in those days ! We think them bad at certain times of the year now, but if we listen to the stories of some of the old settlers we shall soon discover they were a hundred times worse then. Of course, my father and poor little Ber were new arrivals, too, and in that fact lies the road to the special favor and attentions of these bloodthirsty hordes.

They dote on fresh blood. They attack every stranger with a most lively zest, and “forsaking all others, cling only unto him" with a most exasperating tenacity. In vain did father and Ben make use of every known remedy. They nearly blinded themselves with “smudges.” They anointed themselves all over with pork fat and carbolic, till between the smoke and the grease they looked like nothing else so much as a couple of “Yarmouth bloaters.” They tried sleeping in the loft, then out on the lake in the boat, then under the boat on the shore, all to no purpose. The pesky things continued to draw their life blood at a most alarming rate ; even when eating their meals the smudge pot had to be smoking under the table, or the enemy would have been so aggressive they would never have been able to eat.

One morning, early, my father had to row to Port Carling, which was the nearest post office. He had written bis letters the evening before, and as soon as breakfast was over he made a start. An hour or two later, Benny, who was at work in the field, saw' father madly rushing across the clearing to the house, a cloud of mosquitoes in his wake. Ben, quite alarmed, ran to see what had happened. He found poor Dad, quite exhausted, wiping the perspiration from his face, which was covered with inflamed knobs as big as marbles, and gave him a somewhat comical appearance. “My eyes, sir!” he broke out (this is an old English expression, and a favorite expletive of my father’s when at all excited), “I’ve had a fearful fight! The mosquitoes wouldn’t let me go to the post. I did my best, and got as far as the river, but there they met me in swarms, and, though I made a dead stand at first, lai l down my oars and fairly fought them, it was no good; the minute I took hold of the oars again they made another set on me, and at last I had to give in and come back as soon as I could. Never saw anything like it. They followed me all the way home!” I think this adventure was the climax. Perhaps this victory satisfied them for awhile ; anyway, to the great relief of father and Ben, a strong breeze sprang up, the weather got cooler, and the mosquitoes took a rest.

Now a word or two about the fare which these pioneers enjoyed. There was certainly not much variety about it. They had some salt pork, and father baked bread; then they had all the fish they could catch, and soon became quite expert fishermen. This was the evening amusement for them both. And you all know the taste of Muskoka bass; “it can’t be beat.” The only difficulty was the bait. It was much easier in those days to catch the fish than to catch the worm. Every worm meant a fish, so they were valuable and, like other valuables, extremely scarce; but there were minnows to be had, and these served their purpose, or sometimes they tried a strip of fat pork. Then, several times during the summer, we sent up a box from Toronto stuffed full of groceries and provisions of various kinds. We found we had to be careful what we put in the box, though, for there was no “Muskoka Express” in those days to bring you fruit gathered in Toronto in the morning and other dainties in time for your six o’clock tea, No 1 the box was often a week on its way, and I have a letter by me now from my father, written about this time, in which he says, “The box arrived on Monday, but it had been so long on the way that the meat had gone bad, and all the other things spoilt in consequence. Ben almost cried over the big plum cake, it smelled so bad. He is baking it anew in the sun to see if it will sweeten it. We have spread out the tea, too, and hope we may be able to use it.”

We felt as sorry as they did when we got this letter, for we knew what a disappointment it would be to them, poor things, living on such hard fare, but it made us more careful for the future.

My lather worked hard during this summer. At times he hired one of the settlers for a few days to help him, and before he came down to Toronto in the fall he made arrangements to have the five acres chopped, ready for clearing up in the spring. He had also decided on certain lots, not far distant, which he meant to apply for to the government grant agency, when he returned to Toronto. He was very anxious mother should pay him a visit and see the spot he had chosen, but this pleasure had to be deferred until the following spring. He returned to Toronto about the end of September with Ben, who had grown so tall and looked so well mother could do nothing the first evening but feast her eyes on his dear face. My father, too, was looking first-rate. We all were delighted to have them back, and I think the tongues of the Hathaways never wagged faster than they did that night. How interested we all were in everything that had befallen them. We could not ask enough questions about this lovely Muskoka, and all looked forward with longing eyes to the day when we should see it for ourselves.

We had also many things of interest to tell father. One very important piece of information was whispered blushingly into his ear that first night—“Bet was engaged.” Her sweetheart (the young Englishman I told you of) was very anxious, too. that the wedding should be soon. He wanted to have it at Christmas. We girls, of course, were very much interested, as this would be the first marriage in the family. We ail felt it was the right thing that Bet’s should be first; “wasn’t she always first in everything?” And so, with my father’s and mother’s consent, Christmas Eve was fixed upon as the happy day, and preparations began in earnest.

We made all the modest trousseau ourselves except the wedding dress; we were rather scared of tackling that, so entrusted it to a dressmaker. We all had a hand, I think, in concocting the wedding cake. I know I did the decorative part, and very handsome we all thought it looked when finished. Sue and Winnie were the bridesmaids. I think we fixed upon Christmas Eve for the wedding because all the students who were boarding with us would be gone, and also Mr. Baylis would have some holidays ami be able to take Bet away for a few days. The wedding was quiet, but pretty, and took place in the parlor, which at that time seemed very strange to our English ideas. The only contretemps occurred towards the end of the ceremony.

Winnie, it appears, had been teasing the bridegroom for some days beforehand by boasting of her determination to secure the first kiss from the bride. He was equally as determined that prize should be his own, so they were both watching for the first chance, and, being a little too eager, when the clergyman made a slight pause in the service, thinking he had concluded, they fell simultaneously upon the bride’s neck. We never knew which was first, both positively claiming the victory, but the minister put an end to the dispute by saying with a very grave face, “Pardon me, my friends, but if you will kindly allow me to complete the ceremony first you can then perform the kissing.”

We were slightly abashed, and Winnie was afterwards called out of the room by mother and told that her “conduct was simply disgraceful”; but scoldings had no more effect on Miss Winnie than water on a duck’s back. After the wedding breakfast —or rather supper—the happy pair took their departure, first to Hamilton and then Niagara, but they were to return before January nth, as that would be our mother’s and father’s silver wedding day and we were to have a party.

The students were back again, and the bride appeared in her wedding-dress. We demolished the rest of the wedding cake and drank to the health of the “two bridal couples,” as we persisted in calling them, everybody assuring dear mother she looked nearly as young as her daughter. We finished off with “Sir Roger de Coverly” in grand style. And so ended our wedding festivities, and we returned to the prose of everyday life. Bet’s new home was not far away, and we went often to see her, and she came to our assistance when there was any extra work on hand.

I forget whether I told you Ben started to go to school again in the fall, and was working hard to make an extra good showing in the spring, so that there might be no excuse to prevent him returning to Muskoka with father. However, as soon as navigation opened father went alone, and Ben was comforted by the promise of being mother’s escort a month later, when she was to pay her first visit to her future home. Bet offered to come and stay with is while mother was away, and we were by no means dull, I can assure you.

We did one daring deed during her absence, Miss Winnie being the prime instigator. Mother had an occasional boarder, an actor, who had given her a lot of trouble, for she could never get any money from him and he would return time after time, whenever he was acting in Toronto, and, with the greatest assurance in the world, bamboozle my good-natured mother in a kind of free and easy style into once more taking him in. He always contrived to get the best of everything going and was a natural dead-beat.

Well, it happened one day during mother’s absence the boarders had finished dinner, and we girls were just sitting down to finish what they had left, when in stalked this Mr. Orlando Hawkins, with two fellow actors, and, proceeding straight upstairs to the room which he generally occupied, sent word down by one of the other boarders ordering “dinner at once for himself and two friends,” Now this seemed carrying things in rather too high-handed a way, and raised our ire, for he already owed us over fifty dollars, which we felt sure we should never get; so we held a hurried consultation and came to the decision that now was the time to do the deed—we had the reins of government in our own hands, and we would give this gentleman his walking ticket. We sent Bet upstairs as spokeswoman, she being the most valiant, and she scored a victory after a short but severe combat.

Winnie and I, peeping from the lower windows, saw to our delight the trio departing, bag and baggage, in high dudgeon, shaking the very dust from their feet with indignation.

“Bless you, Bet! forever bless you!” cried Winnie, throwing her arms around Bet’s neck, as she came downstairs, “You have done a brave deed this day, have routed the enemy from his stronghold, and it shall be recorded in future history to your worthy praise.” Well, here’s the record, anyway, so her words have come true.

Before I close this chapter I must tell you that mother returned from her visit to Muskoka more than delighted with all she had seen. She preferred the position of father’s land to that of Dale End; it lay surrounding a beautiful bay, gently sloping to the edge of the lake. She never tired of describing it to us, our home of the future, “Hathaway’s Bay.”