THE LOGGING INDUSTRY AND ITS PERILS, BECAME PRECIOUS FOLK HISTORY OF MUSKOKA
LEGENDS TOLD AND RE-TOLD, BUT THEY HAVE NOW BEEN FORGOTTEN
MY WIFE SUZANNE, IS THE NEICE OF FAMILY HISTORIAN, BERT SHEA, AND THE GRAND-DAUGHTER OF JOHN SHEA, A FORMER WARD CLERK, AND FARMER, IN THE PRESENT TOWNSHIP OF MUSKOKA LAKES. OUR BOYS, ROBERT AND ANDREW, ARE PROUD OF THEIR FAMILY'S PIONEER HISTORY, HERE IN MUSKOKA, AND ARE EAGER TO TELL FRIENDS ABOUT THEIR GREAT-GREAT GRANDFATHER'S DUG-OUT CANOE, ON DISPLAY AT THE MUSKOKA LAKES PIONEER MUSEUM. THEY HAVE HEARD, MANY TIMES, GROWING UP, ABOUT THEIR KIN BEING KNOWN, IN ANOTHER CENTURY, AS "THE THREE MILE LAKE WOLVES." THEY WERE A RATHER RAMBUNCTIOUS GANG WHO LIKED TO LINK ARMS, WHEN IN BRACEBRIDGE FOR THE DAY, AND WALK DOWN THE CENTER OF MANITOBA STREET, TO CHALLENGE ANY TAKERS, FOR A DONNYBROOK, TO GET IN THEIR WAY. THEY'RE NOT TOO SURE ABOUT THE FAMILY'S INVOLVEMENT IN THE THREE MILE LAKE ORANGE LODGE, BUT ONE DAY WE'LL TRY TO SORT THAT OUT FOR THEM. ANDREW DOES OWN A BEAUTIFUL ORANGE LODGE DRUM, BUT HE HASN'T DELVED TO FAR INTO ITS HISTORY…….AND THE ROLE OF KING BILLY. JUST THAT IT WASN'T A CATHOLIC THING.
ONE OF BERT SHEA'S MOST STRIKING INCLUSIONS, IN HIS BOOK, "HISTORY OF THE SHEAS AND BIRTH OF A TOWNSHIP," INVOLVES THE LOGGING INDUSTRY, AND THE TERRIBLE PERILS OF THE WINTER CUT. THE STORY IN THE FORM OF A POEM, IS ENTITLED "OUR TRIP DOWN THE GEORGIAN BAY," AND IS AN EXCEPTIONAL EXAMPLE OF WHAT I HAVE MEANT, PREVIOUSLY, ABOUT THE MAKING OF LEGEND AND LORE. THE UNFORTUNATE REALITY IS, THIS STORY, AND MANY OTHERS, HAVE CEASED BEING TOLD….AND READ, AS THE BOOK IS RARE AND ONLY PUBLICLY AVAILABLE AT PUBLIC LIBRARIES. YET IT IS A FINE EXAMPLE OF WHAT THIS REGION WAS BUILT FROM, OF PIONEER COURAGE, AND DETERMINATION TO SURVIVE, NO MATTER WHAT THE ODDS. HERE NOW IS A RE-TELLING OF AN IMPORTANT CHAPTER OF MUSKOKA FOLKLORE…..WE SHOULD ALL KNOW ABOUT IF WE WANT TO FULLY APPRECIATE THE BEGINNINGS OF OUR COMMUNITIES IN THIS ONTARIO HINTERLAND.
OUR TRIP DOWN THE GEORGIAN BAY
"ABOUT THE YEAR OF SIXTY-EIGHT (1868) WAS COLD AND DEEP THE SNOW; GRUB WAS SCARCE AND MONEY SHORT AND WORK WAS VERY SLOW; TO FELL THE PINE AND SQUARE THE LOG WITH SKILL AND GOOD THE PAY; WE HEARD A JOBBER WANTED MEN UP THE GEORGIAN BAY.
"JOHN LILY SHEA WAS A HEWER, SCORE HACKERS WILLIAM AND WILLIAM R.; WITH GILES TO FELL THE STATELY PINE THE TIMBER NOT TO MAR; THE CAMP WAS GOOD AND BOARD WAS FINE, THE FOREMAN JUST AND FAIR. THE SNOW PILED HIGH IN GEORGIAN WOODS AND FROSTY WAS THE AIR.
"FROM EARLY MORN TILL CLOSE OF DAY, OUR AXES SWINGING HIGH,
THE FOREST RANG FROM MORN TILL NIGHT, THE CHIPS FLEW WILD AND FAR; THE FOREMAN SMILED AND TIPPED HIS CAP TO SEE OUR STEADY GAIT.
"TILL ON THAT FATEFUL DAY, SNOW THICKENING IN THE AIR; AS GILES TO AIM THAT STATELY PINE, AND LAY HIM DOWN WITH CARE; HIS FREE SWING AXE ON A FROSTY CHIP CAUSED GLANCING OF THE BLOW; AND TO HIS FOOT, THE KEEN GROUND BLADE BURIED IN THE SNOW.
"IT CUT THE LIVING FOUNTAIN AND CRIMSON WAS THE FLOW; AS LIFE BLOOD SPURTED FROM THE WOUND TO MELT THE FROSTY SNOW; WE BORE HIME FROM THAT FATEFUL TREE, AND LAID HIM ON OUR COATS; OH, TO KNOW HOW TO STOP THE BLOOD, IF NOT THERE WAS NO HOPE.
"SAYS JOHN LILY, 'BRING THE CHALK LINE,' AND HE TWISTED UP A ROPE; AND PLAC3D A CHIP UPON THE VEIN AND TWISTED TIGHT THE ROPE; THE PRESSURE EASED THE CRIMSON STREAM, BUT HE WAS DEATHLY PALE; WE MOVED HIM FROM THE WINTRY WOOD, AT ONCE, AND WITHOUT FAIL.
"WITHIN THE CAMP WITH BLANKETS WARM, A STEADY HAND AND SLOW, THE ARTERY TIED WITH CLEAN WHITE THREAD AND STOPPED THE CRIMSON FLOW; AND THROUGH THE NIGHT A WATCH WAS KEPT, EACH MAN IN HIS TURN; TO KEEP THE FIRE BURNING BRIGHT AND O'ER HIS COMRADE YEARN.
"ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT THE STORM RAGED ON, THE HEAVY GEORGIAN SKIES; HAD LAID A MANTLE DOWN OF WHITE, BUT BRIGHTER NOW THE SKIES; THE FOREST LAY A SEA OF WHITE, THE COLD, THE SNOW, THE SKY; THE FROSTY NITE, THE BRILLIANT LIGHT, 'NEATH GEORGIAN'S WINTER SKIES.
"IF NOT THEY KNEW THAT THEY MUST GO THROUGH FOREST O'ER HILLS AND LAKES; THE TRAIL TO BREAK AND A COMRADE TO TAKE FOR DAYS AND DAYS AND SLOW; THE SLEIGH WAS MADE, THEIR BURDEN LAID IN BLANKETS WARM AND TIGHT; BY LIGHT OF DAY THEY WENT THEIR WAY TO CAMP BY FIRE LIGHT.
"WHEN SCARCE THE TRAIL WE HAD STARTED, A TALL AND LANKY MAN; WITH SNOWSHOES ON HIS FEET AND SHOD WITH INDIAN TAN; A MAN BORN IN THE FOREST, BRED OF A NOBLE RACE; WITH HAND UPON A SHOULDER, BID US OUR STEPS RETRACE.
"SAYS HE 'TOO FAR, TOO HEAVY, WHITE MAN MAY NOT GET THROUGH,' AND HE TORE FROM OFF A WHITE BIRCH TREE, AND ON THE BARK HE DREW; DOWN TO THE GEORGIAN BAY, TO FOLLOW BY THE SHORE; THE ISLES HE MARKED AND INLET STREAMS, WE HAD NEVER SEEN BEFORE.
"AND THEN HE MARKED THE CHANNEL, 'WIDE TO CROSS WHEN DAY IS CLEAR,' TO CAMP AT NIGHT IN SHELTERED SIGHT, 'DRYWOOD IS PLENTY HERE;' UNTIL THE SLIM AND CROOKED LINE CAME TO AN INLET STREAM; SAYS HE, ' YOU TAKE HIM HERE,' WE LISTENED CLOSE TO HIM.
"HE LEAD YOU TO ANOTHER LAKE, THIS LAKE IS SHORT TO GO; AND BY SHORT STREAM TO ANOTHER LAKE TOO BIG, MAY NOT SEEM SO; THEN YOU PORTAGE TO BIGGER LAKE, HEAVY PORTAGE, SLOW; CROSS HIM AND PORTAGE TO LITTLE LAKE AND SHORT PORTAGE TO LAKE JOE.
"AND THERE WE STOOD IN DEEP DISMAY, AS GUIDED BY HIM AFAR, THOUGH OF DIFFERENT RACE, AND COLOUR OR FACE, WE HIS HELPLESS CHILDREN ARE.
"AND AS HE TURNED AWAY THAT WINTER DAY, TO HIS HOME IN THE ANCIENT WOOD, AND HE LEFT THE BARK WITH THE LINE OF DARK, WE KNEW HE DONE US GOOD.
"AND OUR SPIRITS RAISED AND OUR GOD WE PRAISED, AS WE SNOWSHOED DOWN THE TRAIL, THO THE TRAIL UNKNOWN THE WAY WAS SHOWN, AS MARKED BY OUR FRIEND ON THE WOOD.
"TWAS BUT A SHORT WAY TO THE GEORGIAN BAY, AND WE TURNED SOUTH ALONG THE RUGGED SHORE; THE SNOWSHOEING GOOD AND WE UNDERSTOOD, BY THE WINDS FROM THE NIGHT BEFORE.
"THE WINDS HAD PACKED THE SNOW SO TIGHT, AND AGAIN HE BEGAN TO ROAR, THE TALL PINES WAVED AS HIS HORSE VOICE RAISED, IN THE CAVES OF THE WATER WASHED SHORE.
"AND WE SPED ALONG OUR STEP WAS STRONG, AS THE WINDS AST OUR COAT TAILS TORE, FOR THE FROSTY BITE OUR CAPS PULLED TIGHT, AS WE LOOKED DOWN THE DISTANT SHORE.
"IN A SHELTERED COVE ON AN ISLAND SHORE, WHERE DRY PINE STOOD AROUND, A FIRE BRIGHT WE KINDLED RIGHT, AND DREW FROM OUR SIMPLE STORE.
"THE TEA SMELLED GOOD MID THE SMOKE OF THE WOOD; WITH THE ODOR OF BACON AND PINE, A HARDY REPAST WE FINISHED AT LAST, AND OUR PATIENT WAS DOING FINE.
"SO WE BROKE UP CAMP FOR ANOTHER TRAMP, DOWN THE LAKE WITH THE UNKNOW SHORE, TO SEE A PLACE IN A SHELTERED SPACE, THERE TO REST THE COLD NIGHT O'ER.
"AS THE SUN SANK LOW AND THE AFTER GLOW, SPREAD ACROSS THE MILES OF THE LAKE; AND THE HILLS ALONE IN RADIANCE SHONE, BUT OH IT WAS SO COLD AND BLEAK.
"AND WE FOLLOWED THE LAND OF ROCK AND SAND, AS THE WINDS AT THE WILD CLIFTS TORE, TWAS A DISMAL SIGHT AT APPROACH OF NIGHT, BUT A DRAW WE SAW IN THE SHORE.
"SO WE ENTERED IN, THE STREAM WAS THIN, BUT IT LEAD TO A BETTER SIGHT; IN A SHELTERED FILL AMONG THE RUGGED HILLS, WE SETTLED DOWN FOR THE NIGHT.
"FROM THE BALSAM TALL WE BUILT A WALL, AROUND OUR CAMP TO THROW BACK THE HEAT, WITH THE SNOWSHOE TOE WE THREW OUT THE SNOW, AND LAID GREEN BOUGHS DOWN FOR OUR FEET.
"BY THE CHEERY FLAME WE FORGOT OUR PAIN OF THE FROST AND THE WIND ON THE CHEEK; IN THE DEEP BLUE SKY THE STARS STOOD HIGH AND THE MOOD THROUGH THE PINE TOOK A PEEK; BY THE SETTLE OF NIGHT THE WIND TOOK FLIGHT, WE WERE GLAD FOR A REST FROM HIS HOWL; AND THE BRILLIANT LIGHT OF OUR CAMPFIRE BRIGHT, BROUGHT A GUEST OF THE OLD GREY OWL.
"AND WE FILLED OURSELVES ON THE BEST WE HAD, WE ALL FELT COZY AND WARM; SAYS ROXBOROUGH BILL, 'I'LL SING YOU A SONG NO DOUBT IT WILL HELP US ALONG.' SAYS WILLIAM, 'I FEEL YOU HAD BETTER TAKE CARE, IT MAY ONLY STIR UP A STORM.
"SO HE SAT BY THE FIRE, AND HIS WHISKERS OF RED, SHONE IN THE CAMPFIRE LIGHT, AND HE SANG OF HIS HOME OF THE PLACES HE LOVED, OF THE LAST PARTING WORDS THAT WERE SAID; OF IVORY SHORE, OF ERIN OF YORE, AND A HYMN ERE HE LAID DOWN HIS HEAD.
"THE WINGS OF THE NIGHT, BORE OUR MINDS IN A FLIGHT; THAT OUR BODIES COULD REST FROM THE DAY; AND THE FIRE BURNED LOW IN THE LAND OF THE SNOW; ERE WE KNEW TWAS THE BREAK OF DAY; AND WE BROKE UP CAMP FOR ANOTHER DAY'S TRAMP, O'ER THE WHITE OF THE COLD GEORGIAN BAY.
"AND WE KNEW WE WOUJLD NEAR THE CHANNEL WITH FEAR, THAT OUR FRIEND SAID WAS SO DEEP AND SO WIDE, WE HOPED WITH FEAR FOR DAYS THAT WERE CLEAR; WHILE WE CROSSED TO THE FAR DISTANT SIDE.
"AT THE MIDST OF THE DAY WE PULLED UP THE SLEIGH, BY THE ISLE WITH A SHELTERING SHORE; AND OUR SPIRITS FELL FINE AS WE FOUND THERE A SIGN, THAT SOMEONE HAD CAMPED THERE BEFORE; AND WE KNEW WITHOUT FAIL WE WERE SAFE ON THE TRAIL, OUR FRIEND HAD OFT TRAVELLED BEFORE.
"AT NOON THAT DAY, JOHN LILY SAID THE SLEIGH WAS RUNNING TOO HARD; ERE WE TOOK UP OUR WAY, HE TURNED OVER THE SLEIGH AND GREASED ITS RUNNERS WITH LARD; SAYS WILLIAM, 'I FEAR THE WOLVES WILL APPEAR AND WE WILL BE EATEN ALIVE IN THE WOODS;' NONSENSE,' SAYS GILES, 'THESE HOUNDS OF THE WILDS THEY KNOW OUR MEAT ISN'T GOOD.
"BUT ERE THE CAMPFIRE LIGHT HAD LULLED FOR THE NIGHT, THE HOWLS OF THE BEASTS FILLED THE WOODS; 'ROXBOROUGH,' SAYS HE, 'IT'S PLAIN DO YOU SEE, THEY ARE OUT TO WARM UP WITH HOT BLOOD.
"BUT THEY DIDN'T LONG STAY FOR THE CHASE LED AWAY; AND WE HOPED THEY HAD LEFT US FOR GOOD; SO WE SETTLED DOWN TIGHT BY THE CAMPFIRE LIGHT, NEATH THE MOOD AND THE FROST IN THE WOOD.
"ERE THE STARS OF THE MORNING HAD SPENT THEIR LAST GLOW; OUR PASSENGER WAS LOADED AND READY TO GO; THE STEAM SPLIT FROM OUR NOSTRILS, WE COULD SCARCELY SEE THE WAY; BUT THE DEEP BLUE OF THE SKY BESPOKE A GRAND WINTER DAY.
"WE WERE HEADING ON THE ROUTE OUR INDIAN FRIEND DREW; SCARCELY BY THE MID OF MORNING, WE COULD SEE BEYOND THE BLUE; WE AT EACH OTHER TOOK A GLANCE AND QUICKENED OUR PACE; FOR WE KNEW WE WERE ENTERING A GRIM AND DESPERATE RACE.
"THE SUN BEFORE US SHINING WHICH MADE A SPLENDID GUIDE; WE HOPED THAT IN HIS REIGN OF LIGHT, TO REACH THE OTHER SIDE; THE SHORE BEHIND WAS LOWERING, THERE WAS NOTHING ELSE TO DO, OUR STEP WAS STRONG WE PUSHED ALONG TO THE FURTHER RING OF BLUE.
"WE HAD BEGUN THIS RACE IN ERROR, OR FAILING TO PREPARE; SOME MEAT WE SHOULD HAVE COOKED, WE COULD HAVE EAT OF COLDEN FARE; WHEN THE SUN OF NOON WAS SHINING ON THE COLD AND FROZEN LAKE, WE COULD AT LEAST EAT UP A MORSEL FOR OUR STOMACH'S EMPTHY SAKE.
"BUT SUCH THINGS WILL HAPPEN AMONG THE BEST OF PLANNING MEN; AND AT NOON WE WERE SWINGING BRISKLY JUST AS WE HAD BEGAN; THE BLUE BEHIND AND BEFORE US WAS JUST ABOUT THE SAME, SO WE FELT THAT WE WOULD MAKE IT, BUT WE WOULD BE HUNGRY MEN.
"THE AFTERNOON WAS FROSTY, THE PERSPIRATION CAME; THE SKY WAS SHOWING CLOUDY SAYS WILLIAM, 'IT MAY RAIN;' BUT WE KNEW HE WAS JOKING FOR THE TEMPERATURE WAS LOW; FROM THE SQUEAKING OF THE RUNNERS PASSING O'ER THE FROSTY SNOW."
NOTE: THIS IS A LENGTHY POEM, SO I WILL BREAK IT UP INTO TWO PARTS, CONCLUDING TOMORROW. WHILE IT IS ROUGH HEWN, AND NOT THE WORK OF WORDSWORTH OR LONGFELLOW, IT HAS WITHIN IT, A BLUNT HONESTY, AND TRUTHFULNESS; A SENSE OF COMMUNITY HISTORY, DESPITE THE WRITER'S ATTEMPT TO BE POETIC. THERE ARE MANY ANALOGIES WITHIN, AND IT CAN BE SAID, WITH SOME ACCURACY, THAT MANY TIMES ON THIS CROSS COUNTRY, OVER-FROZEN-LAKE AND RIVER JOURNEY, THE RESCUERS WERE IN JUST AS MUCH PERIL AS THE INJURED LOGGER, IN THE SLEIGH BEHIND. IF THEY HAD NOT RECEIVED THE MAP FROM THE ABORIGINAL TRAVELLER, THEY ENCOUNTERED, EARLY IN THE TREK ACROSS THE SNOWY BARRENS, THEY WOULD CERTAINLY HAVE ENCOUNTERED DANGEROUS ICE, OR POSSIBLY BEEN LOST IN THE SEEMINGLY ENDLESS WILDS OF WEST MUSKOKA. AS FOR BEING EATEN BY WOLVES, THAT WAS OF COURSE A DISTINCT POSSIBILITY. ADDING LARD TO THE RUNNERS, WAS AN OPEN INVITATION TO DINE ON VULNERABLE MORTALS, ONE OF THEM SERIOUSLY INJURED.
I HOPE YOU WILL JOIN ME TOMORROW, FOR THE CONCLUSION OF THIS INTERESTING FOLK STORY, WHICH WILL ALSO INCLUDE ANOTHER, DETAILING THE BURIAL OF A MUSKOKA PIONEER; ALL THANKS TO THE STORY REKINDLING OF BERT SHEA, IN HIS BOOK, "HISTORY OF THE SHEAS AND BIRTH OF A TOWNSHIP."
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