THE SHEA PIONEERS AND THE FARMSTEAD "HARVEST"
SUZANNE TELLS ME, I'M MY OWN WORST ENEMY. I CAN'T SAY SHE'S WRONG EITHER. SHE ONCE OFFERED TO RENT ME A GIANT HALL, AND PROVIDE A LARGE PODIUM, ON AN EMPTY STAGE, TO SOAP-BOX TO MY HEART'S CONTENT, ABOUT THE SHORTCOMINGS OF LOCAL GOVERNANCE, WHEN IT COMES TO HERITAGE STEWARDSHIP. I HAVE GIVEN-UP PUBLIC SPEAKING, AND I DON'T EVEN LIKE FINDING MYSELF IN CLUSTERS OF PEOPLE. I GUESS IT'S A SIGN OF AGE, TO GET CRANKY LIKE THIS. BUT I STILL, IN THE QUAGMIRE OF A BUSY MIND, FIND MYSELF, FREQUENTLY THESE DAYS, BEING FRUSTRATED TO SILENCE, BY THOSE CITIZENS, ESPECIALLY THOSE OF INFLUENCE, (POLITICAL, OR IN GOVERNMENT CIRCLES), WHO ARE WILLING TO OPINE ABOUT OUR REGIONAL HISTORY, WITHOUT KNOWING MUCH ABOUT IT; OR HAVING READ EVEM ONE LOCAL HISTORY BOOK, FROM COVER TO COVER. I HATE THE IDEA, THAT THESE FOLKS, CAN THEN BECOME THE STEWARDS OF OUR HERITAGE, BY GETTING THE MOST VOTES, BUT WHO COULDN'T PASS EVEN AN ELEMENTARY HISTORY QUIZ ABOUT THEIR HOME REGION. WHAT DOES THIS SAY ABOUT OUR PRECARIOUS SITUATION GENERALLY IN THE HANDS OF A "KNOW IT ALL" LOCAL GOVERNMENT, CHARGED WITH MANY OF THESE RESPONSIBILITIES OF STEWARDSHIP. IT'S NOT A NEW THING, BECAUSE FOR THE PAST TWENTY YEARS, I'VE WITNESSED MANY EXAMPLES, OF ELECTED OFFICIALS GOOFING-UP, BECAUSE THEY DIDN'T PAY ATTENTION TO THE LESSONS OF THE PAST. THERE'S ALWAYS THE DANGER OF BEING CONSIDERED "PREACHY," AND "GRANDSTANDING" FOR A CAUSE VERY FEW ARE INTERESTED IN THESE DAYS, EXCEPT FAMILY AND HOBBY HISTORIANS. IT TROUBLES ME, THAT WE DON'T FIND PIONEER HISTORY, FOR EXAMPLE, A WORTHY SOURCE OF INSPIRATION FOR THE WORK OF CONTEMPORARY COMMUNITY BUILDERS. THERE ARE MANY EXAMPLES OF HOW HISTORY CAN BE AN EXCEPTIONAL MODEL, FOR CURRENT ECONOMIC-GROWTH INITIATIVES, IF WE COULD ONLY CONVINCE THE MODERNIST POLITICIANS, TO SEE HOW PARALLEL SITUATIONS WERE HANDLED, FIFTY, A HUNDRED AND A HUNDRED AND FIFTY YEARS AGO. I'VE FOUND HISTORICAL PRECEDENTS WORK FOR ME, AND I WOULD BE LOST WITHOUT THESE REVERENCES, THAT SHOW VERY CLEARLY, WHAT SACRIFICES HAVE BEEN MADE THROUGH THE GENERATIONS, TO BUILD A DYNAMIC REGIONAL ECONOMY. SOME YEARS, WE WIN, AND OTHERS, WE LOSE. BUT STILL, WE CAN LEARN FROM ALL THE ESTABLISHED POINTS AND VIEWS, LIKE TRAFFIC SIGNS, SHOWING US WHERE THE SHARP TURNS AND HIDDEN INTERSECTIONS ARE LOCATED, ON A WINDING COUNTRY ROAD. IT'S JUST HARD TO CONVINCE FOLKS TODAY, THE GREAT VALUE OF THIS ROAD MAP. APPARENTLY, THERE ARE STILL SOME PEOPLE, WHO PREFER TO FIND OUT THE OBSTACLES BY IMMERSION AND UNFORTUNATE EXPERIENCE. HISTORY CAN TAKE THE HURT OUT OF DISCOVERY.
TELL ME HONESTLY, YOUR MOTHER OR FATHER, GRANDPARENT, AUNT, UNCLE, OLDER COUSIN, DIDN'T SAY, AT SOME POINT IN YOUR EARLY YEARS, "YOU ARE LUCKY. WHEN I WAS A KID....!" I WAS ADVISED OF THIS CONSTANTLY BY MY MOTHER MERLE. "OUR FAMILY SURVIVED THROUGH THE GREAT DEPRESSION," SHE USED TO TELL ME, IF I ENQUIRED WHY MY ALLOWANCE SUCKED. IF I LEFT FOOD ON MY PLATE, SHE WOULD TELL ME THAT THE POOR CHILDREN OF THE WORLD, WOULD LOVE TO HAVE MY TABLE SCRAPS. I'D LOOK AT HER, TO SEE IF THERE WAS ANY REAL DETERMINATION, TO PACKAGING UP WHAT I LEFT, TO SEND TO THOSE NEEDY CHILDREN. IT'S NOT THAT I DOUBTED THE NEEDS OF THE POOR ON THIS PLANET, BUT I REALLY DIDN'T KNOW WHAT I WAS SUPPOSED TO DO, IF I WAS TRULY FULL AND COULDN'T EAT ANOTHER MORCEL. SO I SUPPOSE, TO AVOID MERLE HAVING TO REMIND ME OF THIS AT EVERY MEAL, I CLEANED MY PLATE PRETTY WELL. I'M THE SAME TO THIS DAY. SUZANNE HAS NEVER ONCE COMPLAINED ABOUT ME LEAVING FOOD ON MY PLATE, OR HAD ANY REASON TO DISCUSS MY INSENSITIVITY TO THE POOR CHILDREN. AS WELL, IF I WAS TO LEAVE FOOD ON MY PLATE, I WOULD RAISE HER IRE, ABOUT "NOT LIKING THE FOOD SHE PREPARED." SUZANNE IS A FINE COOK, AND ADORES THE WHOLE KITCHEN CULTURE, SO NOT GOBBLING UP EVERYTHING SHE PREPARES, WOULD BE A LOT WORSE THAN THE SCOLDINGS MY MOTHER BESTOWED. YOU DON'T INSULT THE CHEF. AND GETTING BACK TO THE POOR CHILDREN, I WAS ALSO REMINDED FREQUENTLY, ABOUT HOW GOOD AND COMFORTABLE MY LIFE WAS, AS COMPARED TO THE PIONEERS, WHO HAD TO CONTEND WITH ADVERSITY AND SHORTFALLS, OF MOST THINGS WE TAKE FOR GRANTED TODAY. ONCE AGAIN, I DIDN'T KNOW EXACTLY HOW I WAS TO RESPOND, TO THESE STORIES OF HARDSHIP, OTHER THAN TO REFRAIN FROM ASKING FOR ANY PERCEIVED EXTRAVAGANCE. I BELIEVE THIS WAS HER POINT ANYWAY. BUT WITH THE TRICKLE DOWN LESSONS, FROM MY PARENTS, IN THIS REGARD, IT DID HAVE AN IMPACT FOR SURE. I DON'T BELIEVE IT'S WHAT TURNED ME ON, TO THE PIONEER PERIOD, IN THIS REGION, YET I CAN'T DISREGARD, THAT IT MADE ME MORE PERCEPTIVE TO HOW WE GOT TO THE CONTEMPORARY TIMES, ON THE BACKS OF THESE COURAGEOUS HOMESTEADERS. IT WASN'T THE CASE I WAS SUPPOSED TO FEEL SORRY FOR THEM, BECAUSE THERE WASN'T ANY POINT. THEY WERE LONG GONE, AND THE ONLY ATTRIBUTE OF THE PERIOD, WAS THE LEGACY, WHICH I SUPPOSE, IS WHAT IMPRINTED ON MY MIND; AND IT MAY HAVE, INADVERTENTLY, LED ME DOWN THIS HISTORICAL PATH, WHICH HAS UNFURLED IN FRONT OF ME, SINCE THE FIRST YEAR OF UNIVERSITY. THERE IS A DANGER OF FEELING SORRY FOR THESE FOLKS, BECAUSE THAT'S AN EDITORIAL COLORING-IN OF FACT. IF THEY ACCEPTED WHAT THEY GOT OUT OF LIFE, AND ENDURED THE HOMESTEAD PRIVATIONS, THEN THERE ISN'T ANY RELEVANCE WHATSOEVER, TO FEELING SORRY FOR THEM. EACH GENERATION HAS TO DEAL WITH HARDSHIPS OF THE TIME. THEY DIDN'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT NUCLEAR PROLIFERATION. THEY DIDN'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT ENVIRONMENTAL CATASTROPHE, POLLUTION, SPILLED RADIATION INTO THE OCEANS OF THE WORLD. WHAT IT COMES DOWN TO, IS THAT, AT THE VERY LEAST, THEY DESERVE RESPECT. THE HAVE EARNED THIS MUCH FROM US, BENEFITTING TODAY IN THIS REGION, BECAUSE OF WHAT THEY ACCOMPLISHED TO OPEN UP THE FRONTIER; BUILDING THE ROADS, THE FIRST BRIDGES, CLEARING THE LAND FOR FARMSTEADS, AND ASSISTED THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE LOGGING INDUSTRY, WHICH HERALDED A SMALL BUT SIGNIFICANT ECONOMIC BOOM AT THE RIGHT TIME; AND AS WELL, HELPED TO DEVELOP THE FIRST FORAYS OF INVESTORS IN THE TOURISM SECTOR. MUCH OF THE WOOD THAT WENT INTO BUILDING THOSE FIRST RESORTS, CAME FROM MUSKOKA FARMSTEADS, AND THE INITIAL PRODUCE AND MEAT SUPPLIES, WERE PROVIDED BY THOSE PIONEERS, LIKE THE SHEA FAMILY OF UFFORD, WHO HAD TO FAN OUT WHEREVER WORK AND INCOME COULD BE FOUND, TO MAKE THE HOMESTEAD ECONOMY PROSPER.
I CONFESS, TO BEING IN AWE, WHEN SUZANNE AND I TRAVEL AROUND TO OUR REGIONAL CEMETERIES, PUBLIC, AND THOSE AFFILIATED WITH AREA CHURCHES, AND STAND ON THE GRAVES OF THOSE PIONEERS, I RECOGNIZE, IN NAME, FROM THE HISTORY TEXTS I'VE BEEN READING. I DO THINK ABOUT THE WAY MUSKOKA APPEARED, TO THESE SETTLERS, WHEN THEY ARRIVED IN THE REGION, SO FULL OF EXPECTATION, AND HOPEFULNESS, A PROMISING NEW CHAPTER WAS ABOUT TO BEGIN. I THINK BACK TO THE HARDSHIPS THEY FACED, AND THE BACK BREAKING WORK THEY HAD TO PERFORM, TO MAKE EVEN THE SLIGHTEST GAIN, ON THIS PRECARIOUSLY APPOINTED LANDSCAPE. YET, I GET MOST SATISFACTION, WRITING THEIR STORIES FOR A CONTEMPORARY AUDIENCE, THAT I BELIEVE, SHARES SOME OF THIS REVERENCE FOR THE GROUND BREAKING EFFORTS OF OUR TRUE FOUNDERS. THERE ARE MANY UPLIFTING STORIES, ABOUT PIONEER SUCCESSES, AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS, TO OVERCOME ADVERSITY. SO VERSUS A SAD TALE, THE CONCLUDING CHAPTERS, WHENEVER I WRITE ABOUT THE HOMESTEAD PERIOD, FOR ANY PUBLICATION, IS ALWAYS OF A MUCH MORE RESOLVED, ACCEPTING, REVERENT TONE. I SUPPOSE I'M TAKING A PAGE OUT OF MY MOTHER'S PLAY BOOK, WHEN I WRITE THESE PIECES, TRYING TO IMPRESS THE POINT, THAT WE SHOULD ALL BE THANKFUL TO THOSE WHO BRAVED THE ELEMENTS, AND ENDURED THE SHORTFALLS, TO INVEST IN THE FUTURE OF THIS REGION OF ONTARIO. WHILE IT'S CERTAINLY TRUE, THAT MANY PIONEERS DID ABANDON MUSKOKA IN THOSE FIRST YEARS OF SETTLEMENT, BACK TO THE 1860'S, AND SOME EVEN DIED AS A DIRECT RESULT OF HARDSHIP, THE MAJORITY DUG-IN, AND MADE THEIR FARMSTEADS WORK; OR THEY FOUND A WAY TO GENERATE INCOME, EVEN BY TRADE, WHEREVER IT EXISTED AT THE TIME. THEIR FAMILY NAMES ARE STILL IN EVIDENCE TODAY, IN THIS DISTRICT, SHOWING THE RESOLVE THEY HAD, TO CONQUER WHAT AT TIMES, SEEMED WELL BELOW PROSPEROUS CULTIVATION, AND A BOUNTIFUL HARVEST. WE DO OWE THEM THIS RESPECT. THEY GOT THE BALL ROLLING, SO TO SPEAK, FOR WHAT WE CALL HOME TODAY. YES, WHEN I LOOK AT THEIR MOSS COVERED TOMBSTONES, AND CAN JUST BARELY READ THE INSCRIPTIONS, I THINK ABOUT WHAT SOME TODAY CALL "THE MUSKOKA LIFESTYLE," TO PROMOTE THEIR CONTEMPORARY BUSINESS VENTURES. THESE PIONEER FOLKS KNEW THE TRUE MUSKOKA LIFESTYLE. IT WASN'T EXACTLY, LEISURE AT LAKESIDE.
HERE'S ANOTHER RECOLLECTION, WRITTEN BY SHEA FAMILY HISTORIAN, BERT SHEA, IN HIS LATE 1960'S BOOK, "HISTORY OF THE SHEAS AND BIRTH OF A TOWNSHIP." BERT SHEA IS SUZANNE'S UNCLE, AND HE WAS WRITING ABOUT THE UFFORD, THREE MILE LAKE AREA, OF THE TOWNSHIP OF MUSKOKA LAKES. THE BRIEF CHAPTER, IS ENTITLED, SIMPLY, "THE HARVEST."
THE HOMESTEAD HARVEST
"Every member of the Shea family (circa 1863) realized the importance of passing time, so many things to do while the warm season lasted; the summer was not an idle one. John Lily and William, (brothers), had made a canoe each. Susanna had made several trips to South Falls, for the mail and to post letters." This was a difficult and long canoe traverse, with portages necessary. "The garden seeds that had been sown in the new land, by showers and sun, had grown in abundance. By mid August, the corn stood tall and loaded with golden ears, ripening in the hot August sun; the buckwheat was coming in, the wheat had found the high fallow land an ideal place to root; and the opening in the bush for the summer sun to pour in, and in the refreshing showers, there was no question as to quantity, and quality, when August still stirs, the rank golden heads stood hardening in the sun."
Mr. Shea writes, "And all about the plot, the chirp of the chipmunk was heard, as he strove to harvest as much of the new grown food; though strange to him, he knew it would be grand for his winter store. The raccoon would take a share of the golden corn whose dry leaves rustled in the harvest moonlight, as he tore open the husks and helped himself to the golden grain, but plundering the precious crop could not be tolerated. Needless to say, John Lily's big hound played havoc with the destructive raccoons. But better still, Grandaddy picked the corn, stripped back the husks, braided the ears together, in long strings, and hung them on oak pins driven into the shanty wall, to dry and harden the golden grain. The wheat and buckwheat, he cut with his new sickle, bound into sheaves, stooked and capped to cure in the harvest sun, among the stumps and charred logs. The days passed, and when the plump kernels had dried and would separate, from the shuck, 'twas time to thrash. In ancient days the flail had served well, and he had often revelled in his ability to swing the flail, and wield it well to separate from the shuck. This was fine but where the threshing floor, and where the lumber to build it with, (spaces left between the boards) the wheat was precious and not be lost by carelessness.
"And here to serve the purpose, the Indians had used on such occasions, tanned moose or deer hides sewn together. But to serve his purpose, Grandaddy (James Shea) brought out of the shanty, a good wool blanket, and stretched it out on the level ground, and placed the first sheaf of wheat on it, and with a good, stiff hardwood stick, about two feet long, he began the operation of thrashing, pounding the wheat, out of the heads, turning the sheaf over and over, and more pounding, till the heads were broken up, and the grain had been shelled; then another and another sheaf, till the golden grain left the straw, and sufficient wheat was rant its emptying. With the help of Granny Shea, they took the blanket by the four corners, and with care, poured the wheat from one end into a container, while in the process of pouring, the wind blew away the chaff. This process and operation continued for hours."
He writes, "The threshed wheat grew from quarts to bushels and to bags, till the threshing was over, and the steady thump, thump of the operation died away, and the bags were tied with buck-skin strings, or strings from the back of the moose-wood, and set inside the shanty, ready to be taken to the mill (Washago was the closest mill). At that date, this operation could be paid for by flour, taken from the grist, and was called 'toll' if according to your wishes, or your circumstances, you desired to pay that way. Needless to say, in a new country, more paid with toll, than cash, even though they had not sufficient flour to show a surplus, or sufficient to the date, when these stocks could be replenished. Flour received as toll, by the miller, for his work, could be resold by the good miller, to those who had no wheat and money to buy. There was a ready market for flour in a new country. It was about the first of October, when the bags of wheat were ready to be taken to the grist mill.
"It was with pride, Granny and Grandaddy Shea, looked on these two able bodied sons, John Lily, and William, with admiration, as they shouldered the heavy bags of wheat, and made their way to the Beach, Lot 16, Concession 6, the canoe landing. They even packed if necessity called, but to them packing would be part of the added work; they had no intention of carrying a pack of wheat from Watt (Township) to Gravenhurst, or at that date, to Washago, and carry it back. To go by water, there would be two portages out of Three Mile Lake, over the Indian Trail, into Lake Rosseau, at Portage Bay, and another portage at the Indian River rapids at Port Carling, but for the miles by water, they had provided two new canoes and paddles, made from second growth maple, split thin as a knife blades and strong. With the trip before them, the two brothers made their way to the lake, loaded their wheat into the canoes, and pushed off the beach. The first wheat from the township of Watt, was on its way to Gravenhurst by canoe, and paddle, to be made into flour, borne over the waters of the Muskoka lakes, by the young Sheas, leaning slightly forward to paddle with long steady strokes.
"Gun laying before him in the canoe, they set their course for the Portage Bay, and via the Indian Trail to Lake Rosseau. According to my information (author, Bert Shea), this was a trip when hauling to Gravenhurst, that took three days and according to first hand information, few were they of the pioneers, though courageous, were they, who ever took the trip. I do know that some have journeyed with them, but not to any extent. A courageous old pioneer said in his old age, while reminiscing on the past, speaking of the trip he made with John Lily, and William Shea, to Gravenhurst with wheat. Said he, 'One trip like that was enough for me. Conscience. I wasn't afraid, but I was no white-water man'. So on this particular trip, they paddled on to dine on dried venison. Granny's special provision, carried with them for emergencies, or from the gun that was always at hand, to bring in a partridge for their evening meals. As they camped for the night on the sheltered side of some island, the days speed on and in the evening light, on the great waters of Green Bay, two objects were to be seen steadily moving up the bay; with a surge of thankfulness, James Shea saw his two sons paddling their precious cargo up the bay to their landing. Their young eyes had caught sight of their father as he stood to scan the waters of the bay; by the setting sun, they too felt the joy of returning home with flour for bread, for their father to feed his family, through the long hard winter which was rapidly approaching."
The following poetic lines, follow up the story, told by Mr. Shea:
"I saw the summer waining late; I saw the sunlight glisten on the lake; I saw the evening after glow, the sun kiss deep the waters of the lake. I felt the quiet settle in of night, the twilight take of evening's splendor glow, and erase the coloured rugged shore, whose heights stood deeply mirrored in the lake. I felt the night so settle all around, the dark of air and sky and ground, and then the jewels appeared above, and then in awe, I thought of home and them I loved. And as my feet trod o'r the turf, uncertain steps uneven earth, I heard the voices of night around, of wild birds by my footsteps put to flight. And then I saw the light from window clear, my home and loved ones there so dear, awaiting from my burden to partake, of food our supper fresh to bake. The perspiration stood upon my brow, my body weary from the heavy load, but my voice welcome loud and clear, my faithful do announce my coming near."
"The writer (Bert Shea), cannot recall any remarks in particular as to the potato, turnip (called the poor man's butter on dry bread), and other garden crops. But it could be taken for granted, in consideration of the abundance of grain, that the garden produce would be excellent; the ground new and on the south side of the lake, this is a protection from frost. I could add, at this point, an account as related by William Kay, when an old man, reminiscing about the past, and relating to the earlier years in Watt, with much satisfaction, as he stood in the sunset of that lovely October evening. And from his gateway he looked across to the familiar spot, where Shea's first shanty stood. Amidst the quiet autumn fields, and with a movement of his hand, familiar to his way, said he, in referring to a visit to the Sheas, when potato digging was the order of the day. Granny Shea was justing finishing the picking-up job, that totaled for her day's digging. A measure of forty bushels having been dug by herself in new land. In these days there were no potato bugs or parasites of any kind, to affect the crop, except the green cabbage worm that appeared at a very early date, perhaps a native of the green woods, that added to his list of edibles; the newly planted and succulent cabbage plants.
"However, Granny Shea settled his reign by the use of fine, dry hardwood ashes, dusted over the cabbage plants. This fine dust, entering the most wrinkles of the worm's body, producing lye which proved too strong for his survival. Later years, lime dust was used, this being beneficial to the growth of the plant. But the use of lime came in later years, when Grandaddy Shea had built a lime kiln down on the beach, by the foot of the hill. The writer just recently in searching, found splinters of lime stones and other remains, and remnants of his works, and of stone brought there to process for house plastering, chimney or fireplace construction, in pioneer days."
Once again, I have retreated to my favorite portal, at Birch Hollow, looking out over The Bog, with my good friend Bosko, who has been studying the resident red squirrel who was born here at our modest Gravenhurst homestead. Bosko isn't fond of wet weather, and has to be coaxed to go for a walk. We have both come back, this afternoon, shivering from the cold wind and rain, over-taking this early October day. I've been listening to the steamship's whistle for the past few minutes, wondering what it would be like out on the lake, on such a blustery, rainy day. Despite what inclement weather unfurls from the heavens today, it is still a magnificent scene from here to there, and I cherish every moment. I have just had the pleasurable company, of the county crows, who find our hardwoods perfect for their great debates, of which are, me thinks, full of theatrics and bird-kind hubris, and all at considerable volume. I think I could retire to Birch Hollow, without any fear, of having little to write about; because even in the dullest, most adverse circumstance of weather, I am so glad to have this opportunity, to share nature as a comfortable voyeur. From this vantage point, I can very much relate to the pioneer stories told by Bert Shea, from his remarkable little history book about our family; the Muskoka pioneers.
Thank you for joining with me today, to explore the life and times of the Muskoka homestead community. Lots more coming in this series, which will wrap-up on Thanksgiving Monday.
FROM THE ARCHIVES
THE BEAR, THE MOOSE AND THE OMEN - A FOLK TALE ABOUT THE INTERACTIONS OF CIVILIZATION ON NATURE
BUT IT WAS OUR PAST! GOOD OR BAD!
I'M A LITTLE SLOW TO START THIS BLOG TODAY BECAUSE OF AN ADVERSE CIRCUMSTANCE, HERE AT BIRCH HOLLOW. AS I LIKE TO SHARE MY LIFE STORY, HERE'S ONE MORE PARAGRAPH TO THE BIOGRAPHY, MY BOYS WILL LIKELY DECIDE TO NEVER, EVER PUBLISH IN BOOK FORM. SO I'L OUTSMART THEM, AND PUBLISH IT NOW FOR THE WHOLE WORLD TO GAZE UPON.
JUST FINISHED DINNER. WONDERFUL. HELPED WITH THE DISHES, THREW THE RECYCLING IN THE BIN, FED THE CRITTERS, PATTED THEM RESPECTIVELY, AND THEN BY GENERAL MISFORTUNE, HAD TO CHASE CHUTNEY, OUR SMALLEST CAT, AROUND THE BACKYARD IN THE DARK.....THROUGH THE SPRUCE GARDEN. IT HAPPENED LIKE THIS: I OPENED THE BACK DOOR, THE CAT WAS STARTLED ON THE TOP OF THE CHINA CUPBOARD, FELL OFF, AND LANDED ON ALL FOURS, ON THE STEP OF THE OPEN DOOR. WELL SIR, IT TOOK ABOUT THREE SECONDS FOR CHUTNEY TO FIGURE OUT, SHE WAS BY HAPPENSTANCE, STARING INTIMATELY AT THE GREAT OUT OF DOORS. I USED TO BE ABLE TO DIVE, DART AND DO THE SPLITS AS A GOALTENDER, BUT THAT WAS IN THE GOOD OLD DAYS. I BENT OVER AS FAR AS MY BACK WOULD ALLOW, AND BY THAT TIME, SHE WAS ON HER WAY TO THE NEIGHBOR'S PORCH.
SUZANNE WITH FLASHLIGHT AND BLIND AMBITION, THROUGH THE THICK EVERGREENS, MADE A FLYING TACKLE ON THE LITTLE BUGGER, AND SAVED THE DAY. CHUTNEY IS A WANDERER, AND OUR NEIGHBORS DON'T LIKE CATS. ANY CATS. ALL OUR FELINES ARE HOUSE-CATS, ALTHOUGH BUDDY GETS SOME TIME IN THE YARD, ON A LEASH. WE DON'T INFLICT OUR TASTE IN ANIMAL-KIND UPON OUR NEIGHBORS. AND I'M HURTING AT THIS MOMENT, AS I UNCEREMONIOUSLY TUMBLED INTO THE BRAMBLES (WE TOLERATE HERE) OF WHICH I'M STILL PICKING OUT OF MY ARMS; SO EVERY NOW AND AGAIN, I HAVE TO STOP WRITING, TO SEEK MEDICAL ASSISTANCE. SUZANNE JUST SHAKES HER HEAD AND APPLIES MORE ANTISEPTIC TO MY INJURIES. GOOD TIMES. MEMORABLE MOMENTS AS PET OWNERS.
THE SUPERSTITIONS OF NAVIGATION, OF COURSE, GO ALL THE WAY BACK TO THE BEGINNING OF MARITIME EXPERIENCE AND ECONOMIC ENTERPRISE. IT MAY NOT BE A STORY-WORTHY TO SOME, WHO ARE INFINITELY MORE INTERESTED TO READ ABOUT THE OPERATIONS, OF SAY, THE BOAT'S STEAM PROPULSION SYSTEM, AND ABOUT ITS PORT OF CALLS. BUT THE SUPERSTITIONS ATTACHED TO MARINE HERITAGE ARE NUMEROUS AND FASCINATING. ALTHOUGH THESE MANIFESTATIONS OF SUPERSTITIOUS BELIEFS, DIDN'T ALWAYS MAKE THE GRADE OF FOLK STORY, REGIONALLY, THERE ARE A FEW THAT ARE FAIRLY SIGNIFICANT.....IF YOU BELIEVE IN THESE THINGS. MARINERS OFTEN SEE THINGS THAT JUST CAN'T BE EXPLAINED; ENCOUNTERS ALL TIMES OF DAY AND NIGHT, THAT MAY BE CONSIDERED THE MIND PLAYING TRICKS, THE SCENERY TAKING ON A SURREAL APPEARANCE, THAT MAY HAVE CREATED A SUSPICION OF A PENDING, INTRUSIVE OMEN. ONE OF TWO STORIES TODAY, HAS A MILD MORAL SIDE, WHILE THE OTHER POSSESSES A LITTLE PARANORMAL "SHADOW OF DOUBT". YOU BE THE JUDGE. BUT ONE THING'S FOR CERTAIN. THEY ARE BOTH NEAT FOLK STORIES, THAT ENHANCE OUR VIEWPOINT OF WHAT THE HISTORY OF MUSKOKA WAS LIKE, BEYOND THE BARE BONES OF ITS RECORDED HISTORY.
THIS IS NOT A STORY FOR EVERYONE. IF YOU'RE A LITTLE SQUEAMISH ABOUT CRUELTY TO ANIMALS, YOU MAY WISH TO BYPASS TODAY'S BLOG, BECAUSE IT INVOLVES THE VERY POOR TREATMENT OF A MOOSE AND A BEAR, ONE THAT JUST HAPPENED TO GET IN THE WAY OF A STEAMSHIP, AND A CREWMAN WITH A GUN.
CAPTAIN LEVI FRASER, IN HIS BOOK, "HISTORY OF MUSKOKA," WRITES THE FOLLOWING, ABOUT THE INCIDENT WITH A VERY LARGE MOOSE:
"WILD LIFE AT THAT DATE (LATE 1800'S) WAS PLENTIFUL THROUGHOUT MUSKOKA. PARTRIDGE, DEER, BEAR AND AN OCCASIONAL MOOSE WERE TO BE SEEN. A STORY WAS TOLD OF THE KILLING OF A MOOSE IN THE FENN'S POINT SETTLEMENT. FATHER FLEMING WAS HOLDING A WEEK-DAY MASS AT THE HOME OF THE KELLYS. FROM THE HOUSE COULD BE SEEN THE LAKE AND AN ISLAND IN THE DISTANCE. DURING THE SERVICE SOMEONE NOTICED WHAT THEY THOUGHT WAS A LARGE DEER OVER ON THE ISLAND. IT WAS THE BEGINNING OF HUNTING SEASON AND SOME FRESH MEAT WOULD BE VERY WELCOME, SO THE MEN DECIDED THEY WOULD TRY TO GET THE DEER. A LAD OF FIFTEEN OR SIXTEEN SAID HE WOULD GO TO THE ISLAND WITH A DOG, AND DRIVE THE DEER INTO THE WATER TOWARD THE FARM. THE LAD AND THE DOG SOON PICKED UP THE DEER'S TRACK AND WERE HURRYING ALONG, THE DOG NOW KEEN ON THE SCENT, LEFT THE BOY BEHIND. THEY WERE NO NEARING THE SHORE, BUT SO FAR THE LAD HAD SEEN NO DEER, WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN THE DOG CAME RACING BACK WITH HIS TAIL DOWN, AND CLOSE BEHIND HIM, APPARENTLY IN NO HURRY, WAS THE LARGEST ANIMAL THE LAD HAD EVER SEEN; A HUGE MOOSE. AS THE DOG CONTINUED TO FLEE, THE LAD, FOR SAFETY, CLIMBED THE NEAREST TREE AND REMAINED THERE UNTIL THE MOOSE WAS DISPOSED OF." THE MOOSE, SENSING THE INTRUDER HAD BEEN TAKEN CARE OF, TURNED AROUND, SNORTED, AND LEFT THE SCENE.
"IT WAS NOW EVIDENT THAT THE MOOSE WAS NOT GOING TO SWIM TOWARD THE FARM, SO A GUNMAN WENT OVER TO TRY FOR A SHOT AT THE MOOSE ON THE ISLAND, BUT BY THIS TIME THE ANIMAL HAD TAKEN TO THE WATER, ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ISLAND, AND WAS OUT OF GUNSHOT RANGE. SEVERAL MEN HAD COME OVER WITH ANOTHER BOAT; THEY FOLLOWED THE MOOSE AND GOT HIM, SOME DISTANCE OUT, AND TOWED HIM TO SHORE. THE ANIMAL WAS SO LARGE THAT IT TOOK SEVEN OR EIGHT MEN TO DRAG HIM ACROSS THE BARN, WHERE THEY AT ONCE SKINNED AND DRESSED THE CARCASS. THE MEAT WAS DIVIDED AMONG THE NEIGHBORS, A CHOICE CUT OF FIFTEEN OR TWENTY POUNDS, GOING TO FATHER FLEMING. NEXT MORNING AS FATHER FLEMIING WAS TAKING THE BOAT, A DECK HAND RUSHED OUT TO TAKE HIM ONE OF HIS GRIPS (SUITCASES), GETTING THE ONE CONTAINING THE MOOSE MEAT. HE SAID, 'WHAT ON EARTH FATHER, DO YOU CARRY IN YOUR GRIPS TO MAKE THEM SO HEAVY.' FATHER FLEMING REPLIED, 'OH I CARRY MANY THINGS, IF IT IS TOO HEAVY FOR YOU, I WILL TAKE IT MYSELF. I HAVE LEARNED TO BEAR BURDENS, MY OWN AND THOSE OF OTHERS.' A FEW DAYS LATER, A NEIGHBOR FROM SOME DISTANCE, WHO WAS NOT IN AT THE KILL, STOPPED AT THE KELLY HOME FOR DINNER, AND DURING THE MEAL REMARKED THAT MRS. KELLY'S BEEF WAS CHOICE STUFF. THE LADY ASKED HIM IF HE REALLY THOUGHT IT WAS BEEF. HE ANSWERED YES AND THE VERY BEST OF IT. SHE TOLD HIM IT WAS MOOSE MEAT, ALSO TELLING HIM HOW THEY GOT IT.
"SOMEHOW THE KILLING OF THE MOOSE LEAKED OUT (ALTHOUGH THEY WERE PRETTY SURE IT HAD COME FROM THEIR DINNER GUEST), AND TWO MONTHS LATER A GAME WARDEN (MICHAEL WOODS) AND A CONSTABLE (ROGER MAHON), ARRIVED AT THE KELLY HOME, TO SEARCH FOR EVIDENCE OF A VIOLATION OF THE GAME LAWS. THE LADY, I AM TOLD, WAS A BIG WOMAN, COMMANDING AN ELOQUENT FLOW OF LANGUAGE WHEN THE OCCASION REQUIRED IT. SHE NOW PROCEEDED TO POUR OUT HER VIALS OF WRATH ON THE CONSTABLE WITH WHOM SHE WAS ACQUAINTED, WHILE MICHAEL SEARCHED THE HOUSE. THE ONLY EVIDENCE OF THE MOOSE WAS THE HIDE WHICH WAS IN A SMALL OUTHOUSE ENTERED BY A DOOR FROM THE KITCHEN. THE KITCHEN WAS LINED WITH V-JOINT AND THERE WAS NO CASING AROUND THE DOOR. THE WALL APPEARED AS THOUGH THERE WAS NO DOOR. MICHAEL, NO DOUBT, WAS ANXIOUS TO COMPLETE THE SEARCH OF THE HOUSE, AS THE TIRADE WAS IN NO MANNER COMPLIMENTARY, SO HE MISSED THE DOOR THAT CONCEALED THE EVIDENCE. HE THEN SEARCHED THE BARN WITH THE SAME RESULT; WENT ON TO JOE FENN'S, AND GAVE HIS PREMISES THE ONCE OVER, BUT JOE HAD NOTHING HIDDEN, SO MICHAEL FOUND NOTHING. THE BOY AND THE DOG RETURNED SOME HOURS AFTER THE KILL. WHEN ASKED WHERE HE HAD BEEN, HE REPLIED, 'IF YOU HAD SEEN THAT DOG RUNNING AWAY, YOU WOULD HAVE DONE THE SAME AS I DID; CLIMB THE FIRST TREE YOU CAME TO." ME THINKS, HOWEVER, THE HUNTING VIOLATION WAS NEVER PROVEN, WHICH WAS A GOOD THING FOR FATHER FLEMING....AS IT WOULDN'T HAVE LOOKED VERY GOOD TO HIS FLOCK, IF HE'D BEEN BUSTED FOR ILL-GOTTEN MOOSE MEAT.
NOW IN THE WORDS OF CAPTAIN LEE, AS QUOTED IN CAPTAIN FRASER'S HISTORY, THERE IS A UNIQUE STORY ABOUT AN ILL-FATED BRUIN, IN THE WRONG PLACE IN NATURE, CROSSING THE PATH OF A STEAMSHIP, AND A CREWMAN WITH A GUN....UNAFRAID OF FIRING IT WHILE TRAVERSING THE LAKE WITH PASSENGERS ABOARD.
"SAILING ON THE MUSKOKA LAKES HAS ALWAYS BEEN MORE OR LESS FASCINATING TO THOSE ENGAGED IN IT. OF ALL THE CAPTAINS ON THESE LAKES, DURING THE LAST 50 YEARS (BEFORE 1942), ONLY A SMALL NUMBER HAVE LEFT FOR OTHER OCCUPATIONS; CAPTAIN JACKSON, CAPTAIN W. BOARD, AND CAPTAIN E.E. TAYLOR, LEFT THE WAVES FOR THE FARMS; CAPTAIN GEORGE PARLETT WENT INTO THE LUMBER BUSINESS; NEARLY ALL OTHERS HAVE MADE OF IT A LIFE JOB.
CAPTAIN FRASER, AS AN INTRODUCTION, WRITES OF HIS FRIEND, IN THE FOLLOWING DESCRIPTION: "CAPTAIN LEE RELATES THE STORY AS FOLLOWS - 'IT WAS A NICE COOL MORNING. WE HAD LEFT PORT COCKBURN. IT WAS THE STEAMER NIPISSING. CAPTAIN GEORGE BAILEY IN CHARGE. I WAS MATE. WE HAD GOT DOWN NEAR ROUND ISLAND. I WAS AT THE WHEEL, CAPTAIN BAILEY WAS AT BREAKFAST, WHEN A LADY PASSENGER, SITTING NEAR THE BOW OF THE BOAT ASKED ME WHAT WAS CAUSING THAT STREAK ACROSS THE SURFACE OF THE CALM WATER. SHE THOUGHT IT LOOKED LIKE A BIG SNAKE CROSSING SOME DISTANCE AHEAD OF THE BOAT. I LOOKED AND AT FIRST, THOUGHT IT WAS A DOG, BUT AS WE GOT CLOSER, I PERCEIVED IT WAS A BEAR, AND A BIG FELLOW AT THAT. I AT ONCE CALLED THAT A BEAR WAS CROSSING OUR BOW. THE CAPTAIN ALMOST IMMEDIATELY APPEARED ON THE DECK WITH A RIFLE. BY THIS TIME, WE HAD SLOWED DOWN AND WERE VERY CLOSE TO THE BEAR. THE CAPTAIN FIRED TWICE BUT FOR SOME REASON OR OTHER, BOTH SHOTS MISSED; UNDER ORDINARY CONDITIONS BAILEY WAS A REAL MARKSMAN."
WHAT'S IMPORTANT, IN TERMS OF FOLK HISTORY, ABOUT THIS ENCOUNTER WITH THE BRUIN, AND THE FACT THAT BAILEY WAS INDEED A GOOD SHOT, (AND SHOULD HAVE STRUCK THE BEAR EASILY, FROM THAT DISTANCE).....IS THE CURIOUS SUGGESTION, A SORT OF CURSE WAS ENVELOPING THAT WOULD STRETCH OUT FOR SOME TIME AFTER.
ACCORDING TO CAPTAIN LEE, "THE BOAT WAS STILL GOING AHEAD AND BY NOW WE WERE RIGHT ON TOP OF THE BEAR. A PADDLE WHEEL CAUGHT THE BEAR, AND PULLED HIM UNDER. WE THOUGHT, OF COURSE, HE WAS DEAD BUT IN A FEW SECONDS HE APPEARED ON THE SURFACE, SNORTING AND SHAKING HIS HEAD, AND SWIMMING AS STRONGLY AS EVER. BY THIS TIME WE WERE GETTING CLOSE TO THE SHORE. THE CAPTAIN FIRED AGAIN AND CALLED US TO BACK UP. I SIGNALLED TO REVERSE THE ENGINES AND IN A FEW TURNS THE PADDLES. OF THE BIG WHEEL. ONCE MORE CAUGHT THE BEAR AND PULLED HIM UNDER, AND AGAIN HE CAME TO THE SURFACE APPARENTLY UNHURT. ANOTHER SHOT, HOWEVER, TOOK EFFECT AND THE BEAR'S HEAD WENT UNDER WATER. HE WAS NOW QUITE DEAD. WE AT ONCE LOWERED A BOAT AND PULLED OUT THE BEAR. TO GET HIM TO THE STEAMER WE WOULD HAVE TO PUT A ROPE AROUND HIS NECK AND TOW HIM IN. HE HAD PUT UP SUCH A FIGHT FOR LIFE, AND HAD BEEN SO HARD TO KILL THAT WE WERE IN NO HURRY PUTTING THE ROPE AROUND HIS NECK. HOWEVER, WE AT LAST HAULED HIM ON BOARD.
"A GENTLEMAN ON BOARD BOUGHT THE BEAR AND WAS TO TAKE IT ASHORE, A DISTANCE FROM THE GRAVENHURST WHARF, SKIN IT AND SINK THE CARCASS. TWO WEEKS LATER, AS WE WERE NEARING THE LITTLE ISLAND OUT FROM THE GRAVENHURST WHARF, THE CAPTAIN SIGHTED SOMETHING UNUSUAL IN THE WATER. HE CALLED TO ME, 'WHAT IS THAT IN THE WATER RALPH?' AS WE DREW NEARER I RECOGNIZED IT AS THE BEAR'S CARCASS. WHEN WE GOT TO THE DOCK, THE CAPTAIN ARRANGED WITH A MAN TO GO OUT, AND MAKE A SURE-JOB OF SINKING THE BEAR. NEARLY A MONTH LATER, WHEN APPROACHING THE WHARF, WE AGAIN SIGHTED THE BEAR'S CARCASS, BUT THIS TIME IT WAS NEARLY TWICE THE SIZE. WHEN WE LANDED, THE CAPTAIN GOT A BOAT, SOME OLD IRON AND SOME WIRE; HE ALSO TOOK ALONG A BUTCHER KNIFE. ARRIVING AT THE BEAR, HE COULD SEE NO WAY OF FASTENING ON HIS SINKERS AS THE BEAR'S LIMBS WERE ALL UNDER THE WATER, AND THE CARCASS WAS TERRIBLY INFLATED. IN TRYING TO FIGURE OUT HOW THE JOB WAS TO BE DONE, THE CAPTAIN THOUGHT THAT BE PIERCING THE BALLOON SHAPED CARCASS, HE MIGHT BE ABLE TO GET AT IT BETTER; SO HE PLUNGED THE BUTCHER KNIFE INTO THE CARCASS. BUT ALAS, THE THING EXPLODED, AND WITH SUCH FORCE AND SUDDENNESS, THAT THE CAPTAIN'S FINE UNIFORM WAS BESPATTERED WITH DECOMPOSED BEAR. THE STENCH SO SICKENED THE CAPTAIN, THAT IT WAS WEEKS BEFORE HE AGAIN COULD ENJOY A GOOD MEAL. AFTER HAVING TAKEN HIS REVENGE, WHAT WAS LEFT OF THE BEAR SETTLED PEACEFULLY INTO THE DEEP, AND WAS SEEN NO MORE."
ACCORDING TO LEVI FRASER, "THE STRANGE PART OF THE STORY, IS THAT IT WAS ALWAYS THE NIPISSING'S CREW THAT CAME UPON THE CARCASS IN THE WATER; NO ONE ELSE EVER REPORTED HAVING SEEN IT. THE CREW OF THE NIPISSING AT THAT TIME, WAS CAPTAIN BAILEY; MATE RALPH LEE, ENGINEER C, MCARTHUR, PURSER W. LINK, BOB SIMMONS, JAMES MCCULLEY, JOE MORTIMER, AND BOB MCINTYRE, WERE THE OTHER MEMBERS."
HAD THE BEAR BEEN TAUNTING THE STEAMSHIP CREW? KILLING THE BEAR TO EAT, FOR SUSTENANCE, WAS ONE THING. TO KILL THE BEAR ONLY FOR ITS SKIN, WAS WASTEFUL, ALTHOUGH AT THE TIME, THE BEAR POPULATION WAS CONSIDERED INEXHAUSTIBLE. POSSIBLY GOD DIDN'T FEEL THE SAME WAY, AND LET CAPTAIN BAILEY KNOW ABOUT THIS INDISCRETION, ALL FOR THE PRICE OF A FEW DOLLARS' PROFIT.
THANKS YOU SO MUCH, FOR JOINING FRED SCHULZ, AND I, FOR TODAY'S MUSKOKA HERITAGE PROFILE. WE'VE GOT A GREAT FALL SEASON COMING, FOR THESE HERITAGE NOTES, AND WATCH-OUT FOR OUR FABULOUSLY UNIQUE TRIBUTE TO "A MUSKOKA CHRISTMAS," ESPECIALLY THE PHOTOGRAPHS FRED HAS LINED-UP, TO GET US IN THE FESTIVE MOOD. WE WILL BEGIN OUR PROMOTION OF CHRISTMAS IN MUSKOKA, BEGINNING ON THE 15TH DAY OF NOVEMBER, RUNNING DAILY UNTIL NEW YEAR'S DAY. AND OUR EDITORIAL MATERIAL WILL OFFER AN INTERESTING MIX OF CONTEMPORARY SEASONAL ACTIVITIES, AND OVERVIEWS, WITH SOME HISTORIC AND NOSTALGIC REMINISCENCES. FRED'S GOING TO PROFILE CHRISTMAS PREPARATIONS HE REMEMBERS FROM THE KILWORTHY GENERAL STORE, HIS PARENTS OPERATED FOR MANY YEARS, AND SUZANNE IS GOING TO WRITE SOME PIECES ABOUT CHRISTMAS FESTIVITIES, SHE REMEMBERS FROM WINDERMERE, ON LAKE ROSSEAU, WHERE SHE GREW UP. SHE WANTED TO PROFILE THE WINDERMERE SCHOOL CHRISTMAS PLAYS, THAT WERE PUT ON, IN THE BASEMENT OF THE UNITED CHURCH. THAT'S RIGHT, IN CASE YOU WERE WONDERING. MY WIFE WAS TAUGHT FOR A FEW YEARS IN A ONE ROOM SCHOOL HOUSE, NOW THE WINDERMERE COMMUNITY HALL. SHE WAS SORT OF A PIONEER HERSELF.
I'VE GOT SOME GRAVENHURST AND BRACEBRIDGE CHRISTMAS STORIES TO SHARE AS WELL.
HEY, HERE'S AN IDEA. AS WE WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT CHRISTMAS CELEBRATIONS AROUND MUSKOKA, IN THE PAST AND PRESENT, WHY NOT DROP US A NOTE, AND WE'LL PUBLISH IT VIA THIS BLOG-SITE. WE'D LOVE TO HAVE MORE PROFILES FROM THE SMALL COMMUNITIES, VILLAGES, HAMLETS AND CROSS ROADS OF OUR DISTRICT, AND A REPRESENTATION OF WHAT IT WAS LIKE IN THE LEAD-UP WEEKS BEFORE CHRISTMAS; THE FESTIVALS, PARTIES, CHURCH PLAYS AND MUSICAL EVENTS....AND OPINIONS.....I LOVE OPINIONS, ABOUT WHAT IT WAS LIKE TO LIVE RURALLY, DURING THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. WE'VE GOT ENOUGH ROOM AT HEARTHSIDE FOR ONE AND ALL. PULL UP A CHAIR AND GET COZY.
SO AS NOT TO BYPASS THE TOWNS FOLK, WE'D LOVE TO HEAR FROM THESE CITIZENS AS WELL. IT'S ALL PART OF THE HISTORY OF OUR REGION, AND BEST OF ALL, THE FOLK HERITAGE WE ARE TRYING TO PRESERVE, FOR FUTURE GENERATIONS TO ENJOY AS WELL.
THIS, AS IT HAS BEEN FROM THE BEGINNING, IS AN INTER-ACTIVE BLOG. WE CAN ONLY BE AS GOOD AND RESPONSIVE, AS THE MATERIAL WE ARE WORKING WITH.....AND MY HUNCH, IS THAT WE COULD BE EVEN BETTER, WITH THIS ALL-MUSKOKA PROFILE, WITH MORE INPUT FROM OUR READERS AND LOCAL CITIZENS. FRED IS OUT THERE HUNTING FOR THE REPRESENTATIVE PHOTOGRAPHS, THAT DEFINE OUR HISTORIC, TRADITIONAL AND EVEN CONTEMPORARY CELEBRATIONS OF CHRISTMAS, HERE IN THE MAGNIFICENT HINTERLAND. PLEASE HELP US RECORD THIS FOLK HISTORY OF OUR REGION.
YOU ALSO HAVE THE OPTION WITH THIS BLOG-SITE, OF ARCHIVING WHATEVER PAST FEATURE COLUMNS YOU LIKE.....SOME A LITTLE SALTY, SOME VERY POLITICAL, MOST OF THEM, KIND OF SENTIMENTAL AND SHAMELESSLY BIOGRAPHICAL. THANKS FOR YOUR SUPPORT OF OUR WORK TO REPRESENT THE MUSKOKA STORIES YOU WON'T SEE ELSEWHERE.
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