ny 
i 
xu 





































































































































































Terms, Five Bollars a ¥ear. | 
Ten Cents a Copy. i 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
ee eS 
N the fair face of Nature let us muse, 
And dream by lapsing stream and drooping wood ; 
Tread the dark forests whose primeval ranks 
Since the creation dawn have cast their shade ; 
Ponder by flowing stream and ocean tides, 
And note the varied forms of life they hold, 
Mark the wild game so dear to hunter’s heart, 
The swarming fowl] that skim the salty deepa, P 
The birds that haunt the woodlands and the plaina, 
The fish that swim the seas, the lakes, the streams, 
And tempt the thoughtful angler to their marge ; 
Glance at the life that fills our native woods, 
And game of Asian plains, and Afric wilds, 
When soft May breezes fan the early woods, 
And with her magic wand the blue-ey’d Spring 
Quickens the swelling blossoms and the buds, 
Then forth the russet partridge leads her brood, 
While on the fallen tree-trunk drums her mate ; 
The quail her young in tangled thicket hides, 
The dun deer with their fawns the forests range, 
The wild geese platoolfs hasten far in air, 
The wild ducks from their Southern lagoons pass, 
And soaring high their Northward journeyings take, 
The dusky coot along the coast-line sweeps, 
The piping snipe and plover that frequent 
The sandy bars and beaches, wing their flight, 
And all the grassy prairies of the West, 
Teem with the speckled younglings of the grouse, 
And all the budding forests and the streams 
Are gay with beauty, joyous with young life. 
Then swell the first bird melodies ; the wren 
Chirrmps and perches on the garden rail, 
‘The blue-bird twitters on the lilac hedge, 
Or fiits on azure wings from tree to tree ; 
The golden robin on the apple-bough 
Hoovers, where last year’s withered nest had been, 
The darting swallows circle o’er the roof, 
The woodpeckers on trunk of gnarled trees 
Tap their quick drum-beats with their horny beaks, 
The crow caws hoarsely from the blasted pine, 
High in mid air the sailing hawk is pois’d, 
While from the grove the purple pigeon-flocks 
Burst with loud flapping in the grain-sown fields. 
Fair is the scene in Autumn, when the froste 
¥rom palettes rich, with prodigal, gorgeous brush 
C@lor the nodding groves with brown and gold. 
Then silvery-skied, and purple-haz’d the dome 
Of heaven’s deep yault, and fair the earth below. 
Far up, where sunny uplands scope their sides, 
Shaggy with woods, prone to the brimming stream, 
Where bowering beech trees shake their laden boughs, 
And oaks their varnished acorns high uplift, 
Where the broad butter-nut its gammy fruit 
In russet husks slow-ripens day by day, 
And where in crowded ranks the chestnut groves 
Wave out their broad-leay'’d pennons to the air, 
And from their prickly burs shake treasures down, 
There the quick chatterings of the squirrels sound. 
. The gentle valley with its belt of hills 
Crown’d to their tops with grand, primeval woods, 
Glows with all forms and hues that nature loyes. 
7 Deep in its hollow stretch meadows brightly green, 
Kept verdurous by the fall o’erflowing stream ; 
Yet the deep swamps and thickets that engird 
The river-reaches, are resplendent all, 
Their umbrage tinctur’d with imperial dyes. 
The maples tall with blood-red foliage burn, 
The hickories clap their palms of burnish’d gold, 
The poplar thrusts its yellow spire in air, 
The russet oaks and purpled dogwoods blend 
Their colors with the alder’s sable green, 
And scarlet snmacks ; all contrasted rich 
With sombre evergreens, and willows pale. : 
And when the winds autumnal, wailing strip 
The frosted foliage, like a host they stand, 
With trailing banners and with drooping plumes. 
Such be the scenes in wondrous forest-land 
Such be the scenes by sea and lake and stream 
That we would picture ; wild romantic scenes, 
Dear to the hunter’s and the angler’s soul. 
Tsaac McLELLan, 



AN LEC OS LE. 
ae 
THE JOURNAL. OF A NAVAL OFFICER. 
——_—_4¢_— 
ILL within the last few years, the island Whose name> 
_ stands at the head of this article, has been to the great 
majority, what may well be termed ‘‘terra ineognita.” 
Heard of but seldom, and then only in connection with dis- 
aster, it is perhaps no wonder that the island has from the 
earliest times acquired an ill-omened reputation, from the 
long list of ships whose timbers have found a last resting 
place on its shores, and whose names swell the ghastly re- 
cord of missing vessels. Situated at the entrance of the 
Gulf of St. Lawrence, and lying in the centre of the high- 
way of that tide of shipping which sets in towards the lum- 
ber mart of the world, it is not a matter of surprise that at 
the opening and close of the navigable season, the heavy 
storms which sweep the Labrador coast, and dense fogs 
which then prevail in those latitudes, coupléd with the in- 
sidious currents, should lure many a ship within the line of 
reefs which circle its shores. The mind is however apt to 
magnify dangers it cannot fully comprehend, and there is 
little reason to doubt that were the island better known, 
many of the wild reports, amounting almost to superstition, 
with which fancy is wont to invest it, would be dispelled. 
Some forty years ago before the erection of light houses, 
shipwrecks were of much more frequent occurence, than 
they. are at present, and the’ tales of suffering which from 
time to time startled the public ear, and caused the imagina- 
tion to dwell with horror on the scenes of want and misery 
enacted on its shores, have done much to keep up the evil 
notoriety of the island. 
In the beginning of this century the only residents were 
a few trappers who earned a good living from the rich furs 
with which the island then abounded. The black and silver 
fox were often met with, and a good skin fetching as much 
as £40 or £50, the proportionate gains of the trappers can 
be easily imagined, to say nothing of otter, marten and bear, 
with which latter animal the island almost literally swarmed. 
By far the most profitable source of these worthies’ income, 
who in many cases appear to have been little ‘better than 
pirates, was however derived from the ships cast away on 
the reefs encircling their buccaneering home. The how] of 
the storm as it swept down the valleys and moaned fitful- 
ly through the pine branches, and the ceaseless lashing of 
the surf, breaking angrily on the shore, was to the dwellers 
there music of the sweetest import. They well knew the 
treacherous nature of the coast, and it was seldom that the 
morning: broke without revealing some scene of disaster. 
Perchance some had escaped, and hailed with joy the ad- 
vent of a friend, for in what other light could they regard 
the stranger who now approached. In many cases fortu- 
nate were those who perished midst the roar of the tempest, 
rather than live and learn the savage cruelty of man. Too 
often, alas, there is reason to believe that many a life spared 
by the elements, was sacrificed to the cupidity of the wreck- 
ers. In those days, when the loss of a vessel could only be 
known months after its occurence, there was absence of 
proof, and the length of time which had lapsed since the 
fatal day soon stilled the rumors of bloody deeds which 
were now and then whispered abroad. - 
Tt was not till the year 1829 that the government of Can- 
ada was roused into activity by the general consternation 
which was displayed when the news of the loss of the 
“‘Granicus,” with all hands, and the almost incredible hor- 
rors undergone by those who had escaped shipwreck only 
to meet a more horrible death, became known. Towards 
the end of 1828, anxiety began to be felt for the safety of 
the ‘‘Granicus,” a large ship on her passage to Quebec, and 
as the winter months rolled on, and no tidings reached 
those who anxiously awaited some loved one’s return, she 
was probably put down in that long list of ships which 
have foundered in mid ocean, and whose fate must for ever 
remain a mistery, 
“NEW YORK, THURSDAY,- AUGUST 14, 1873. «Nolan Neer 


In the latter end of March, or beginning of April, of the 
following year, some sealers cruising in the vicinity of Fox 
Bay, on the north-east side of the island, were astonished 
at seeing a ‘‘ Jacob’s Ladder,” hanging over the side of a 
limestone cliff near the head of the bay. In such a spot so 
strange a sight denoted something unusual, and pulling 
hastily ashore, the sealers discovered that the ladder was se- 
curely fastened at the top of the cliff. To ascend was the 
work of a few minutes, when they were startled by the 
scene before them. A number of rude huts and tents stood 
on the summit, and as they examined each, and no sign of 
human life appeared, and all seemed bare and deserted, the 
question presented itself to their minds, where could the oc- 
cupants be. It was soon answered. One small square hut 
still remained to be examined, and as they tried to raise the 
latch they found it barricaded from within. Surely here at 
last they would discover some sign of life, or at all events 
something to throw light on the mysterious surroundings. 
Hastily forcing the door and pressing in, the sight that met 
their gaze was one not easily forgotten. Before them sat 
the skeleton of a man, with a ghastly grin, as if to welcome 
these visitants to the abode of death. That which invited 
their attention however, and made the blood run cold and 
curdle in their veins, was a deep pit in the centre of the 
floor. In this lay the remains of a human trunk, the head, 
legs and arms having been previously cut off, while the 
blackened and charred appearance it presented told only 
too plainly what the ashes beneath confirmed. No diary or 
any record was to be found, though from a rude ‘kind of 
calendar on the wall they were led to believe that the unfor- 
tunate occupants had survived till the end of January 
Tw6 skulls and a few bones were all that remained in the 
other tents, though, from the number and size of the latter, 
the greater portion, if not all, of the crew and passengers 
must have been saved. One tent a little apart from the rest 
showed by its better construction and a few articles of ap- 
parel that it had been inhabited by a lady, the only female on 
board. The horrors and sufferings undergone by these un- 
fortunates baffled description. We can picture them when 
first wrecked, probably towards the latter end of November, 
thankful at their merciful escape and busily employed in 
building huts and tents for their shelter. If they were not 
cheerful, at all events they were tolerably contented under 
the circumstances, and perhaps thought of the time when 
they should look back, not without some feeling of pleas- 
ure, at their sojourn as castaways. As the winter days closed 
in, and the cold snow and bitter frosts descended, seizing 
everything in their icy grasp, we can still picture them as 
first awakening to the sense of their danger; but as the days 
and weeks rolled on, and they saw their scanty stock of 
provisions dwindling rapidly away, straining their eyes far 
out to sea, for help, from whence no help can come, it is 
difficult to realise the awful feeling of despair which must 
have seized them. While ‘“‘life remains there is hope,” is 
an old saying, but the reverse is very often true ; so long as 
the flame of hope burns, no matter how small and flickering 
the spark, all is not over; but once extinguish it and let in 
despair, and the rest is quickly told. One by one their little 
numbers melted imperceptibly away ; starving, their bodies 
numb and paralysed with cold, their minds worn out with 
weeks of mental agony, all hope of succor vanished, and 
in mute despair, they laythem down to die. The snow 
forms their shroud, and the plaintive moaning of the win- 
ter blasts as they sweep through the pine tops, their funeral 
dirge. Now at last we might suppose their troubles were 
over, and that their fleecy covering would keep them pure 
and safe in its close embrace, but even yet they are not suf- 
fered to rest in peace. The bears root out the corpses, and 
fight and scuffle for the prize, and soon a few bones are all 
that remain to tell the tale of woe. The skeleton found 
must have barricaded himself in to resist their attacks, and 
then commenced his awful work of cannibalism; he had 
apparently fallen lifeless before completing the act, and so 
been mercifully spared that additional horror. 
When the news of this disaster reached the main land, the 
government dispatched an official to investigate the matter, 
