“Faith, madam! an' I thought the captain was stark, staring mad to fire his fellow on such a windy day, and that blowing right from the lake to the house. When Old Wittals came in and towld us that the masther was not to the fore, but only one lad, an' the wife an' the chilther at home,--thinks I, there's no time to be lost, or the crathurs will be burnt up intirely. We started instanther, but, by Jove! We were too late. The swamp was all in a blaze when we got to the landing, and you might as well have tried to get to heaven by passing through the other place.” This was the eloquent harangue with which the honest creature informed me the next morning of the efforts he had made to save us, and the interest he had felt in our critical situation. I felt comforted for my past anxiety, by knowing that one human being, however humble, had sympathized in our probable fate; while the providential manner in which we had been rescued will ever remain a theme of wonder and gratitude. The next evening brought the return of my husband, who listened to the tale of our escape with a pale and disturbed countenance; not a little thankful to find his wife and children still in the land of the living. For a long time after the burning of that fallow, it haunted me in my dreams. I would awake with a start, imagining myself fighting with the flames, and endeavouring to carry my little children through them to the top of the clearing, when invariably their garments and my own took fire just as I was within reach of a place of safety. CHAPTER IV. OUR LOGGING-BEE. There was a man in our town, In our town, in our town-- There was a man in our town, He made a logging-bee; And he bought lots of whiskey, To make the loggers frisky-- To make the loggers frisky At his logging bee The Devil sat on a log heap, A log heap, a log heap-- A red hot burning log heap-- A-grinning at the bee; And there was lots of swearing, Of boasting and of daring, Of fighting and of tearing, At that logging bee J. W. D. M. A logging-bee followed the burning of the fallow, as a matter of course. In the bush, where hands are few, and labour commands an enormous rate of wages, these gatherings are considered indispensable, and much has been written in their praise; but, to me, they present the most disgusting picture of a bush life. They are noisy, riotous, drunken meetings, often terminating in violent quarrels, sometimes even in bloodshed. Accidents of the most serious nature often occur, and very little work is done, when we consider the number of hands employed, and the great consumption of food and liquor. I am certain, in our case, had we hired with the money expended in providing for the bee, two or three industrious, hard-working men, we should have got through twice as mueh work, and have had it done well, and have been the gainers in the end.