Adventures of an Angler in Canada, Nova Scotia and the United States

CHAPTER XX.

Sail down the Madawaska—The Falls of the St. John.

Falls of the St. John. July.

In coming to this place from the north, the traveller finds it necessary to descend the river St. John in a canoe. The distance from Madawaska is thirty-six miles, and the day that I passed down was delightful in the extreme. My canoe was only about fifteen feet long, but my voyageur was an expert and faithful man, and we performed the trip without the slightest accident.

The valley of this portion of the river is mountainous, and its immediate banks vary from fifteen to thirty feet in height. The water is very clear and rapid, but of a brownish colour, and quite warm, varying in depth from three to thirty feet, and the width is about a quarter of a mile. That portion of the stream (say some seventy miles of its source) which belongs exclusively to the United States, runs through a fertile and beautiful country, abounds in waterfalls and rapids, and is yet a wilderness. That portion which divides the United States from New Brunswick, is somewhat cultivated, but principally by a French population. Owing to the fact that the farms all face the river, and are very narrow, (but extend back to the distance of two and three miles) the houses have all been erected immediately on the river, so that, to the casual observer, the country might appear to be thickly inhabited, which is far from being the case. The principal business done on the river is the driving of logs and timber for the market of St. John; and, excepting the worthy and hard working lumbermen who toil in the forests, the people are devoted to the tilling of their land, and are precisely similar to the Acadians in their manners and customs, and probably from the same stock. There is a miniature steam-boat on the river, but as the unnumbered canoes of the inhabitants are engaged in a kind of opposition line, the fiery little craft would seem to have a hard time. In navigating the river, the voyageurs paddle down stream, but use a pole in ascending; and two smart men, gracefully swinging their poles, and sending their little vessel rapidly against the current, taken in connection with the pleasant scenery of the river, present an agreeable and novel sight.

We started from Madawaska at four o’clock in the morning, and having travelled some twenty miles, we thought we would stop at the first nice-looking tavern on the shore, (for about every other dwelling is well supplied with liquor, and consequently considered a tavern) for the purpose of obtaining breakfast. Carefully did we haul up our canoe, and having knocked at the cabin-door, were warmly welcomed by a savage-looking man, whose face was completely besmeared with milk, and also by a dirty-looking woman, a couple of dirty legged girls, and a young boy. The only furniture in the room was a bed and a small cupboard, while the fire-place was without a particle of fire. In one corner of the room was a kind of bar, where the boy was in attendance, and seemed to be the spokesman of the dwelling. We asked him if we could have some breakfast, and he promptly replied that we could.

“What can you give us?” was my next question.

“Anything you please,” replied the boy in broken English.

“We’ll take some ham and eggs, then.”

“We havn’t any, only some eggs.”

“We’ll take some bread and milk.”

“We havn’t any bread, but plenty of milk.”

“Havn’t you any kind of meat?”

“No, plenty of rum! What’ll you have?”

I could stand this no longer, and having expressed my displeasure at the ignorance of the boy, and condemned his father for pretending to keep a tavern, I gave the former a sixpence, and took half-a-dozen eggs, with which we returned to our canoe.

While I was fixing my seat in the boat, and commenting upon wilderness hospitality, my companion amused himself by swallowing four of the purchased eggs in a leather cup of brandy. In two hours after this little adventure, our little canoe was moored above the Falls of the St. John, and we were enjoying a first rate breakfast, prepared by the lady of a Mr. Russell, who keeps a comfortable house of entertainment in this place.

After I had finished my cigar and enjoyed a resting spell, I pocketed my sketch-book, and spent the entire day examining the scenery of the falls. After making a broad and beautiful sweep, the river St. John here forms a sudden turn, and becoming contracted to the width of about fifty yards, the waters make a plunge of perhaps forty feet, which is mostly in a solid mass, though rather disposed to form the third of a circle from shore to shore. Below this pitch, and extending for about two miles, is a continued succession of falls, which make the entire descent upwards of eighty feet. The water rushes through what might be termed a winding chasm, whose walls are perhaps one hundred and fifty or two hundred feet high, and perpendicular.

FALLS OF ST. JOHN.

Generally speaking, the entire distance from the first fall to the last, presents a perfect sheet of foam, though around every jutting point is a black and apparently bottomless pool, which, when I peered into them, were alive with salmon, leaping into the air or swimming on the margin of the foam. On the western side of the Falls, to a great extent, the original forest has been suffered to remain, and a walk through their shadowy recesses is an uncommon treat; and on this side also is the ruin of an old saw-mill, which, for a wonder, actually adds to the picturesque beauty of the spot. On the eastern side of the Falls is a commanding hill, which has been stripped of its forest, and now presents a stump-field of three hundred acres. It is a desolate spot, but in strict keeping with the enterprise of the province. The expense of clearing, or rather half clearing the hill in question, was six thousand dollars, and it was the original intention of the mother-government to erect thereon an extensive fortress; but owing to the birth of a sensible reflection, the idea was abandoned. The barracks of the place as they now exist, consist of two log-houses, which are occupied by a dozen sprigs of the British army. And thus endeth my account of the most picturesque spot in New Brunswick, which, I doubt not, may hereafter become a fashionable place of summer resort.

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