The chief inconvenience we sustained in Nottawasaga arose from the depth of snow in winter, which was generally four feet and sometimes more. We had got our large log barn well filled with grain and hay. Two feet of snow had fallen during the day, and it continued snowing throughout the night. Next morning, to our great tribulation, neither snow nor roof was to be seen on the barn, the whole having fallen inside. No time was to be lost. My share of the work was to hurry to the Scotch line, there to warn every settler to send at least one stout hand to assist in re-raising the roof. None but those who have suffered can imagine what it is to have to walk at speed through several feet of soft snow. The sinews of the knees very soon begin to be painfully affected, and finally to feel as if they were being cut with a sharp knife. This is what Indians call "snow evil," their cure for which is to apply a hot cinder to the spot, thus raising a blister. I toiled on, however, and once in the settlement, walked with comparative ease. Everybody was ready and eager to help, and so we had plenty of assistance at our need, and before night got our barn roof restored.

The practice of exchanging work is universal in new settlements; and, indeed, without it nothing of importance can be effected. Each man  gives a day's work to his neighbour, for a logging or raising-bee; and looks for the same help when he is ready for it. Thus as many as twenty or forty able axemen can be relied upon at an emergency.

At a later time, some of us became expert in the use of snow-shoes, and took long journeys through the woods, not merely with ease but with a great deal of pleasure. As a rule, snow is far from being considered an evil in the backwoods, on account of the very great facility it affords for travelling and teaming, both for business and pleasure, as well as for the aid it gives to the hunter or trapper.

My own feelings on the subject, I found leisure to embody in the following verses:

THE TRAPPER.

Away, away! my dog and I;
The woodland boughs are bare,
The radiant sun shines warm and high,
The frost-flake[4] gems the air.

Away, away! thro' forests wide
Our course is swift and free;
Warm 'neath the snow the saplings hide--
Its ice-crust firm pace we.

The partridge[5] with expanded crest
Struts proudly by his mate;
The squirrel trims its glossy vest,
Or eats its nut in state.

Quick echoes answer, shrill and short,
The woodcock's frequent cry;
We heed them not--a keener sport
We seek--my dog and I.

Far in the woods our traps are set
In loneliest, thickest glade,
Where summer's soil is soft and wet,
And dark firs lend their shade.

Hurrah! a gallant spoil is here
To glad a trapper's sight--
The warm-clad marten, sleek and fair,
The ermine soft and white;

Or mink, or fox--a welcome prize--
Or useful squirrel grey,
Or wild-cat fierce with flaming eyes,
Or fisher,[6] meaner prey.

On, on! the cautious toils once more
Are set--the task is done;
Our pleasant morning's labour o'er,
Our pastime but begun.

Away, away! till fall of eve,
The deer-track be our guide,
The antler'd stag our quarry brave,
Our park the forest wide.

At night, the bright fire at our feet,
Our couch the wigwam dry--
No laggard tastes a rest so sweet
As thou, good dog, and I.

[Footnote 4: On a fine, bright winter morning, when the slight feathery crystals formed from the congealed dew, which have silently settled on the trees during the night, are wafted thence by the morning breeze, filling the translucent atmosphere with innumerable minute, sparkling stars; when the thick, strong coat of ice on the four-foot deep snow is slightly covered by the same fine, white dust, betraying the foot-print of the smallest wild animal--on such a morning the hardy trapper is best able to follow his solitary pursuits. In the glorious winters of Canada, he will sometimes remain from home for days, or even weeks, with no companions but his dog and rifle, and no other shelter than such as his own hands can procure--carried away by his ardour for the sport, and the hope of the rich booty which usually rewards his perseverance.]

[Footnote 5: The partridge of Canada--a grey variety of grouse--not only displays a handsome black-barred tail like that of the turkey, but has the power of erecting his head-feathers, as well as of spreading a black fan-like tuft placed on either side of his neck. Although timid when alarmed, he is not naturally shy, but at times may be approached near enough to observe his very graceful and playful habits--a facility of access for which the poor bird commonly pays with his life.]

[Footnote 6: Dr. Johnson, in one of his peculiar moods, has described the fitchew or fitchat, which is here called the "fisher" as "a stinking little beast that robs the hen-roost and warren"--a very ungrateful libel upon an animal that supplies exceedingly useful fur for common purposes.]