Wyandotte | Page 7

its way slowly
through the slime. The change to the eye was melancholy indeed;
though the prospect was cheering to the agriculturist. No sooner did the
water obtain a little passage, than it began to clear the way for itself,
gushing out in a torrent, through the pass already mentioned.
The following morning, Captain Willoughby almost mourned over the
works of his hands. The scene was so very different from that it had
presented when the flats were covered with water, that it was
impossible not to feel the change. For quite a month, it had an influence
on the whole party. Nick, in particular, denounced it, as unwise and
uncalled for, though he had made his price out of the very circumstance
in prospective; and even Sergeant Joyce was compelled to admit that
the knoll, an island no longer, had lost quite half its security as a
military position. The next month, however, brought other changes.
Half the pools had vanished by drainings and evaporation; the mud had
begun to crack, and, in some places to pulverize; while the upper
margin of the old pond had become sufficiently firm to permit the oxen
to walk over it, without miring. Fences of trees, brush, and even rails,
enclosed, on this portion of the flats, quite fifty acres of land; and
Indian corn, oats, pumpkins, peas, potatoes, flax, and several other sorts
of seed, were already in the ground. The spring proved dry, and the sun
of the forty-third degree of latitude was doing its work, with great
power and beneficence. What was of nearly equal importance, the age
of the pond had prevented any recent accumulation of vegetable matter,

and consequently spared those who laboured around the spot, the
impurities of atmosphere usually consequent on its decay. Grass-seed,
too, had been liberally scattered on favourable places, and things began
to assume the appearance of what is termed "living."
August presented a still different picture. A saw-mill was up, and had
been at work for some time. Piles of green boards began to make their
appearance, and the plane of the carpenter was already in motion.
Captain Willoughby was rich, in a small way; in other words, he
possessed a few thousand pounds besides his land, and had yet to
receive the price of his commission. A portion of these means were
employed judiciously to advance his establishment; and, satisfied that
there would be no scarcity of fodder for the ensuing winter, a man had
been sent into the settlements for another yoke of cattle, and a couple of
cows. Farming utensils were manufactured on the spot, and sleds began
to take the place of carts; the latter exceeding the skill of any of the
workmen present.
October offered its products as a reward for all this toil. The yield was
enormous, and of excellent quality. Of Indian corn, the captain gathered
several hundred bushels, besides stacks of stalks and tops. His turnips,
too, were superabundant in quantity, and of a delicacy and flavour
entirely unknown to the precincts of old lands. The potatoes had not
done so well; to own the truth, they were a little watery, though there
were enough of them to winter every hoof he had, of themselves. Then
the peas and garden truck were both good and plenty; and a few pigs
having been procured, there was the certainty of enjoying a plenty of
that important article, pork, during the coming winter.
Late in the autumn, the captain rejoined his family in Albany, quitting
the field for winter quarters. He left sergeant Joyce, in garrison,
supported by Nick, a miller, the mason, carpenter, and three of the
axe-men. Their duty was to prepare materials for the approaching
season, to take care of the stock, to put in winter crops, to make a few
bridges, clear out a road or two, haul wood to keep themselves from
freezing, to build a log barn and some sheds, and otherwise to advance
the interests of the settlement. They were also to commence a house for

the patentee.
As his children were at school, captain Willoughby determined not to
take his family immediately to the Hutted Knoll, as the place soon
came to be called, from the circumstance of the original bivouack. This
name was conferred by sergeant Joyce, who had a taste in that way, and
as it got to be confirmed by the condescension of the proprietor and his
family, we have chosen it to designate our present labours. From time
to time, a messenger arrived with news from the place; and twice, in the
course of the winter, the same individual went back with supplies, and
encouraging messages to the different persons left in the clearing. As
spring approached, however, the captain began to make his
preparations for the