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nd dry cedar there, which makes excellent fire

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wood. When we arrived at the camp we found a

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very comfortable house set up by our friend

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s, with a blazing fire in front of it. We lay down o

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Tracy Mya

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n the bushy hemlock, holding pork before the fire on wooden prongs, each man roasting for himself, while plenty of tea was thrown into a kettle of boiling water. The tin mug, our only tea cup, went round till all had drunk, then it was filled again, and so on, while each with his bush knife cut toasted pork on slices of bread. "The

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n we went to sleep, and, after having lain an hour or so on one side, someone would cry—'Spoon!' the order to turn to the other, which was often a disagreeable one if a spike of tree root or such substance stuck up beneath ribs. Reclining thus like a parcel of spoons, our feet to the fire, we have found the hair of our heads often frozen to the place

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Julia Pan

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where we lay. For several days together did we lie in these wild places. In Dow's great swamp, one of the most dismal places in the wilderness, did five Irishmen, two Englishmen, two Americans, one Frenchman, and one Scotchman, hold their merry Christmas in 1826, or rather forgot to hold it at all." "Do you reme

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Linda Von

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mber your experiences in prospecting for iron ore in the mountains?" asked the Chief, who was one of Mac's warmest friends and admirers. "I had been in Canada only a few months," he said, "when I happened to hear from various sources that mountains of iron ore existed in the range north of Hull, and the

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Chief, MacKay, Colonel By, and I secured a guide, and took our way on horseback through the forest to inspect the said ore bed that had hindered the magnetic ne

edle of many a surveyor's compass from traversing properly. We mounted at the Columbian hotel and away we went, our guide having provisions, axes, hammers, etc., in a bag on the saddle with him. Having cantered away severa

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l miles through cleared land, we began to enter the wilderness, and, as I am no great horseman, I soon found my eyes and nose beginning to be scratched off from t

he brushwood lashing and rubbing against them, and soon, alas! I found myself comfortably landed on my back on the trunk of an old tree that had fallen many years ago. "On looking r

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ound I saw my quiet pony thinking for a wonder what had become of me, one of his forefeet having trod out the crown of a good new thirty shilling hat I had bought in

London. "My companions gathered round, but could not prevail on me to mount again; the guide led the horse, and I trudged along on foot.

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Getting rather weary, however, and seeing the comparatively easy manner in which my friends got along, in spite of the thick brushwood and old trees that la

y stretched over one another at all angles, I mounted again, but soon found it almost impossible to follow my companions without getting myself bruised in

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all quarters, and possibly some of my bones broken. "They had got about one hundred yards before me, and halloed to me to follow. I exerted myself to the utmost, but one of my legs getting into the cleft of a small tree, I was thrown off the horse's back and left among the briars again. Bawling out, they waited until I came up. None of them but Mr. MacKay, as good a Sco

tchman as lives, laughed, and I was almost inclined to fling my boot at him. Being a good horseman, and used to the rough roads of Canada, he could keep his seat in the saddle in a way, but the skin of his legs was partl

2 weeks ago

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y peeled like my own, and his clothes torn in various places. "After travelling a great way we got to a stream which the guide said had its origin in the iron mountain. Proceeding up the stream to its source, we at last came upon the famous ore-bed, but through excessive fatigue, after having taken a little refreshment, I fell asleep, as did all my companions but

one, the enterprising Lord of the Manor of Hull, Indian Chief, Colonel of the 2nd Battalion, etc., etc. Even Colonel By, with bone and muscle and sinew like wrought-iron, who can endure anything and eat anything, even to raw pork, was fagged out, and slept like the rest of us. "The Chief kindl

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y left us undisturbed for an hour, when he roused us. Traversing these wild mountains in all directions, we were much pleased with the immense specimens of iron ore that appeared everywhere. Mr. MacKay wielded the hammer with masonic skill, and laid the rich ore-beds open to inspection. At one place the mountains are not more than two miles from the first falls of t

he Gatineau, where machinery and engines could be erected at moderate rate, as water-power may be had to any extent from the falls. We found an abundance of hardwood, particularly maple, which makes the best charcoal of any. We concluded that this was th

15 May 2084

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e best place for iron works in Canada. "We at length thought of returning to the hotel. Night came on, and in the forenoon of the next day I found myself alive at the Falls of the Chaudiere. The troubles I had undergone were amply repaid. My bruises recovered, the skin came over my arms and legs, but I shall never try to explore the wilds of Canada on horseback

again." "Have you ever tried the experiment, Mr. McNab?" asked the good-natured Scotchman. "Sir," he replied, disdainfully, "I thought you had known better. Nothing but McNab, if you please—'Mr.' does not belong to me." Mr. McTaggart expressed his apologies, and

20 April 2084

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there was a lull in the conversation. "You have quite a fine church," said the Chief, after a time, addressing the Scottish pastor. "Yes," he replied, "we are indebted to our host for that church. He built it at his own expense while the masons of the public works were awaiting orders from the War Department in England, to widen the locks." "Why did you call it a

fter St. Andrew?" said the Chief. "I never could understand why Scotchmen seem to have a monopoly of that saint, and Episcopalians a monopoly of the name of Christ, and Roman Catholics of St. Peter and St. Joseph, in naming their churches. St. Andrew was one of the

5 April 2084

Ut enim ad minim veniam

least known of the honored twelve, and why he should have gained and retained such a grip of Scotland and her scattered children is a mystery to me." "There, Mr. Cruikshanks," said the Laird, "is a problem for you to solve, for I must admit it is a question beyond my ken." "The only reason that I can find why St. Andrew is so closely connected with Scotland," replied Mr.

Cruikshanks, whose speech was not a little infected with the dialect of southern Scotland, but is here rendered in modern English for the sake of the readers, "is found in most ancient history—it may be legendary. It is this: "Faithful to the farewell commission of his Master, whom he saw ascend from the brow of Olivet and received into heaven, Andrew spent his missionary life in Scythia and Achaia, and in Patr?, one of its princi

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pal cities, he founded a branch of the Church, the success of which brought down upon him the vengeance of the heathen governor, who caused him to be crucified. He was tied to a cross of


olive wood in the form of the letter X. He endured the prolonged agonies of hunger and thirst and pain for many days, until at last the strong heart gave its last beat and his spirit fled to the side of the glorified

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