CHAPTER IX.
TO invalids, or to the really destitute, Canadian winters, clear andbright though they are, may seem unduly long; but for our littleCanadian Cousins, warmly clad, warmly housed, and revelling in theseason's healthful sports, the months went by as if on wings. WithMarch, though the winds were strong, the sun began to show his power,and by the middle of the month the sap was running, and themaple-sugar-making had begun. Jackie persuaded his father to take himout one morning to the woods, and to help him tap a number of trees.When they went back later and collected the tin cups which they had leftunder the holes in the trees, they found altogether about a pint of sap.This they took carefully home, and Jack persuaded every one to tasteit, then boiled the remainder until it thickened a little,--a verylittle, it is true,--and the family manfully ate it with their muffinsfor tea, though Mrs. Merrithew declared that she believed they hadtapped any tree they came across, instead of keeping to sugar-maples.
Toward the end of the month Mrs. Grey got up a driving-party to one ofthe sugar-camps, and though it was chiefly for grown people, Mrs.Merrithew allowed Dora and Marjorie to go. The drive was long, andrather tiring, as the roads were beginning to get "slumpy," and here andthere would come a place where the runners scraped bare ground. But whenthey reached the camp they were given a hearty welcome, allowed topicnic in the camp-house, and treated to unlimited maple-syrup, sugar,and candy.
The process of sugar-making has lost much of its picturesqueness, sincethe more convenient modern methods have come into use. Mrs. Greyremembered vividly when there were no camp-houses, with their bigfurnaces and evaporating pans, and no little metal "spiles" to conductthe sap from the trees to the tins beneath. In those days the spiles,about a foot in length, were made of cedar, leading to woodentroughs,--which, she maintained, gave the juice an added and deliciousflavour. But this their host of the sugar-camp would not admit, thoughhe agreed with her that the process of boiling must have been much moreinteresting to watch when it was done in big cauldrons hung overbonfires in the snowy woods. When the visitors left camp, each onecarried a little bark dish (called a "cosseau") of maple-candy,presented by the owner of the camp, and most of them had boughtquantities of the delicious fresh sugar.
April brought soft breezes, warmer sunshine and melting snow. It seemedto Dora that people thought of scarcely anything but the condition ofthe ice, and the quantity of snow in the woods. Then they began to saythat there would be a freshet, and Debby, who was apt to forebode theworst, announced that the bridges would go this time, sure! Mr.Merrithew only laughed when Marjorie asked him about it, and said thatthis prophecy had been made every year since the bridges were built, andthat there was no more danger this year than any other. But Mrs.Merrithew, though she could not be said to worry, still quietly decidedwhat things she would carry with her in case of a flight to the hills!The freshet which was talked about so much was, in spite of Mr.Merrithew's laughter, a remote possibility; certainly not a probability.In his own and Mrs. Merrithew's youth, it had been so imminent thatpeople actually _had_ gone to the hills. A tremendous jam had beenformed a few miles above town; but a few days of hot sun had opened theriver farther down, and the danger had passed. Since the two bridges,however, had been built, some people thought that there was a chance ofthe ice jamming above the upper bridge. Usually the worst jams werebetween the islands, not far above town.
Each day some fresh word was brought in as to the river's condition."The River St. John is like a sick person, isn't it?" Dora said oneafternoon. "The first thing every one says in the morning is, 'I wonderhow the river is to-day.'"
The words were scarcely out of her mouth when Mr. Merrithew came inhastily, calling out:
"Come, people, if you want to see the ice go out. The jam by Vine Islandis broken. Come quick. It's piling up finely!"
In a very few minutes the whole family answered to his summons, and theyset out in great excitement to watch their dear river shake off itsfetters. They made their way quickly to the wooden bridge, and found agood share of the population of Fredericton there assembled. It wastruly a sight well worth going to see. Below the bridge the dark waterwas running swiftly, bearing blocks of ice, bits of board, andlogs,--indeed, a fine medley of things. But _above_ the bridge! Jackieclapped his hands with delight, as he watched the ice, pushed by themasses behind it, throw itself against the mighty stone piers, and breakand fall back, while the bridge quivered afresh at each onslaught. Itwas truly grand to see, and they stayed watching it for more than anhour; stayed till Jackie began to shiver, and Mrs. Merrithew hurriedthem home.
By the next morning the river was rapidly clearing, so that somereckless spirits ventured to cross in boats and canoes, dodging theice-cakes with skill worthy to be employed in a better cause. In a dayor two more the deep whistle of the river-boat was heard; a sound thatbrings summer near, though not a leaf be on the trees. But it was notuntil the ice had entirely ceased running, and the river had begun to godown, that really warm weather could begin, for, until then, there wasalways a chill air from the water.
But after that,--ah, then spring came in earnest, with balmy airs andsinging birds, pussy-willows, silver gray, beside the brooks, and littlewaterfalls laughing down the hills. Then came the greening fields, thetrees throwing deeper shadows, and the Mayflowers, pink and pearly andperfect, hiding under their own leaves in damp woodland hollows! Thechildren made many excursions to gather these fragrant blooms, and keptquantities of them in the Den until the season was over. It would behard, Mrs. Merrithew thought, to find anything more lovely, and to showhow thoroughly she appreciated their attention, she made for each childa little Mayflower picture in water-colours. In Marjorie's the flowerswere in a large blue bowl, on a table covered with an old-blue cloth;for Jackie she painted them in a dainty shallow basket, just as he hadbrought them from the woods; and for Dora there was a shadowy green bitof the woodland itself, and a few of the braver blossoms just showingamong leaves and moss.