Canadian Backwood’s life—Its merry-makings and jolly character—Bears and Wolves—Mr. Bruin, a slandered animal—Singular Bear Hunt in Galt, in 1834 - Winter the liveliest season of the year—Christmas shooting matches for Turkies and Geese—Early Drinking customs—“In Devitt’s fall, we sinned all”—Temperance Reform.

The circumstances of the people began visibly to improve about 1830, but there was ample room for improvement, and many hard struggles were still before them. The whole settlement was, however, hopeful and cheerful. There had been no lack of good humour, and even of jollity, from its earliest days. And this, it may be added is one of the peculiar characteristics of Canadian backwoods’ life. It makes Mark Tapleys of men who would never have been “jolly” under any other circumstances.

The hard work of chopping, logging and bush-burning seemed to add zest to social gatherings. They were frequent throughout Dumfries, and always lively. Almost every raising “Bee” terminated in mirth-making of some description. The long winter evenings were often beguiled with dancing, in which all classes and ages united after the Scottish fashion, undisturbed by the “latest cut” of Beau Brummel, the correct attitudes of Professor Fanning, or other restraints of the modern votaries of fashion. The quilting “Bee”—another venerable institution of the past—also contributed its share to the amusements of the period.

Towards the fall of the year a fruitful source of amusement was shooting. Water-fowl and partridges were abundant. So were foxes, mink, and other fur-bearing animals. Ten or twelve deer in a single herd, quietly browsing- at the edge of the clearance, was not an uncommon occurrence, and occasionally the bear and the wolf were bagged. Many persons took part in the sport, and a few, like old John Garrison—who might justly be called the Leather-Stockings of the settlement—did little else all the year round.

The Grand River and the Speed, not to speak of the smaller streams, were then abundantly supplied with trout and other fishes, and amusing fishing adventures frequently happened. Mention has already been made of an expedition of Messrs. Shade, Chapman, and Ainslie, to Elora, “combining pleasure and business,” and Mr. Ainslie has related to us in his own inimitable way, how the party “fished down the Grand River, home again.” He says:

“We constructed a raft about four miles below Elora. A large stone tied to a rope served as an anchor, and we used it at the foot of the rapids. We were most successful in fishing. The dry cedar logs of the raft having become water-logged, and the raft inconveniently low, Mr. Shade determined to replenish it with an additional supply of logs from a large collection of drift stuff at the head of a rapid we were nearing. When we arrived at it, he called to me to jump off, which I at once did with my coat over my left arm, a bottle of whiskey in my left hand, and my fishing-rod in my right. At the same instant Chapman threw the stone on the bank, but the current being very strong, pulled it off, and before I had time to turn round, Shade in a loud voice ordered me to jump on again—

“Time and tide for no man bide.”

I fully realized on this occasion the truth of this adage. Suddenly wheeling to the right about face, I saw the raft rapidly receding from the shore. I made a desperate spring to regain it, but alas! merely touched it with my foot, and was then and there bodily immersed in the rapidly flowing fluid!

“When I regained my feet, my fellow voyagers were a long way down the rapid. On arriving at still water they came to anchor, and had their risible faculties intensely excited by seeing me wading to my middle down the rapids to rejoin them. I still, however, held on to the coat, the rod, and the bottle of whiskey, and I found the latter most acceptable when I regained the raft. I thought I had been ill-used, and had a right to complain of somebody, but the more I complained, the more they laughed, and replied to my remonstrances by recommending me to take another pull at the bottle! We took up our quarters that night at old William Davidson’s in Woolwich, where I got my clothes dried at the kitchen fire. The next afternoon we reached home.”

“This brings to my recollection another acquatic occurrence. Many years ago, New Hope (now Hespeler) was a favourite place of resort to fish for trout. One day I was one of a party to go there. My companions were the three Messrs. Dickson. After fishing some time, the Hon. Robert Dickson, in crossing the stream, slipped off a plank into the pond of Oberholtzer’s saw-mill. After scrambling out to the bank, he deliberately divested himself of his clothing, which he hung up on stumps to dry. He then improvised a sort of Zulu costume, and with the utmost sang froid, continued to pull the trout from the stream until his clothing was fit to put on again! Those were jolly days, and they seem now to have passed all too quickly.”

For a few years bears and wolves were numerous. Most of the settlers brought with them from Europe great fears of these beasts, the result, chiefly, of reading thrilling narratives of their ferocity, to be found in books of travel and newspapers. They found them, however, not the fierce creatures they expected, more especially Mr. Bruin, who was a much slandered animal. With the exception of stealing a pig or sheep occasionally—not a very serious offence for a bear—he was generally very docile, and his rapid disappearance in the forest, when he chanced to meet human beings, showed that he had as little desire to make their acquaintance as they had to make his. The howling of the wolves, and occasionally the sight, through the chinks, of a pack of them examining your log shanty in the moonlight—as if 'they expected to dine before leaving—was not a very sleep-producing or pleasant midnight exercise. But the history of the township, so far as the writer is aware, does not furnish a single instance of a human being having been attacked by them.

Many of the most cherished stories of our youth, even those supposed for ages to have a sound historical basis, are being roughly dispelled under the light of the present day. The narratives of John Smith and Poehahontas, and of William Tell shooting the apple from his son’s head, have now little left of them but romance. The thrilling stories of the ferocity of Canadian bears and wolves must, we fear, also take their place among illusions dispelled. The truth is, unless when wounded, as every hunter knows, they not only do not attack, but flee from the presence of human beings with all the speed at their command.

Speaking of bears, Galt enjoyed a genuine bear hunt in the fall of 1834; and it arose in a rather singular way. About four o’clock in the afternoon, a full-grown black bear came down the then muddy, cross-wayed road, which is now the main street of Galt. It is alleged the animal laid down in a shed—that it glared through a cottage window, and played other startling pranks; but what is certain is, that the creature leisurely passed across the corner of Main and Water Streets, where the little tavern stood, and ultimately made its way up the latter street.

Such an unusual circumstance soon created a lively excitement in the little village. Several dogs starting after the daring intruder, an exciting chase took place up Water Street, in which villagers, armed with rifles, shot guns and even clubs, followed after the bear and the dogs as best they could. At that time the island in the dam, as well as the banks of the river, were densely covered with large pines, and bruin, being pressed, took to the river and swam to the island.

How this adventure ended is, unfortunately, shrouded in some uncertainty, as is frequently the case with thrilling events. Our authorities differ radically in regard to it. One declares that after searching all the trees on the island the bear could not be found. Another feels certain that bruin was discovered high up in the crotch of a huge pine, whence a bullet brought him down with a thundering crash, and that it was quite dark before the carcass was borne down in triumph to the scared little village. A third does not remember whether the bear was captured or not. They are fortunately all agreed, however, that they each took part in the chase, and that this singular circumstance actually occurred, which is, after all, the most material point.

The winter was—as it continues to be in Canada —the liveliest season of the year. The snow-fall was abundant, the sleighing steady and good. Farmers could not get out their crops till the Frost King had paved the roads. This rendered business in winter lively. It also brought its special amusements. On Christmas and New Year’s, and sometimes both, Galt seldom failed to have its shooting matches for turkeys and geese. The sportsmen sometimes shot through between the stumps in rear of the little tavern on Water Street, but more frequently west of the Queen’s Arms, the birds or the target being placed at the foot of Dickson’s hill. It was not uncommon, then, to shoot at the turkey’s and geese themselves. On some occasions the birds were entirely exposed to the marksman, at a long range; at other times their bodies were placed behind a stump or log, or in such a way that only their necks and heads were exposed above the snow, and it required a skilful marksman with the rifle to hit them. These matches excited the liveliest interest. Then, winter had its visiting and sleighing parties, in short, whatever its drawbacks, and it doubtless had many, the settlers found it to be the liveliest season of the year.

The baneful custom of drinking was all but universal. The distillery was a profitable investment, even when whiskey was only 20 cents per gallon. On special occasions, such as the Galt Spring and Fall Fair days, the quantity of spirits consumed, it must be confessed, would be considered enormous nowadays. It was regarded as a want of hospitality not to offer visitors something to drink. At marriages, christenings, and, sometimes, even at funerals, the black bottle regularly made its appearance, and whilst engaged in most kinds of work, more particularly during harvest-time—which then lasted four or five weeks—workmen regarded their employer as a very mean man if a “horn” (as it was suggestively called) was not forthcoming every few hours.

Whilst the Dumfries Mills were being erected, the workmen demanded, and received, a daily supply of rum, which liquor was much in use before the distillery and “white-eye” made their appearance. Mr. Shade, who only wanted a good opportunity to refuse to conform to this custom, adroitly turned an accident which occurred, into a ground of refusal. One day one of the masons, named Devitt, partook rather too freely, and, falling from a considerable height, was taken up insensible. It was at first feared that the vital spark had fled. Devitt fortunately recovered, however, but his fall put an abrupt termination to the supply of rum. On the ground that some one might be killed, Mr. Shade point blank refused to supply any more; this resolve the workmen sharply criticised and murmured against, but finding Shade inexorable, their feelings found vent in a couplet, which was kept up for many weeks thereafter—

“In Devitt’s fall,
We sinned all.”

The opinion is frequently expressed by superficial observers, that Temperance has made little progress, and that drinking, with all the evils of its train, continues to be as rife as ever. There could hardly be a greater mistake. The locality, whose history we are now narrating, may be regarded as a not unfair criterion of the whole Province, and the change in the drinking usages of society in and around Galt, within the memory of the present generation, amounts almost to a revolution. The baneful effects of drunkenness are, alas! lamentable enough yet, but it is believed to be no exaggeration to say, that more liquor was consumed in Galt during a Fall or Spring Fair day thirty years ago, than is sold in all the present hotels in a week. There is, doubtless, ample room for further improvement, but it is undoubted that habits of sobriety have greatly increased, and the social reformer has reason to thank God and take courage.