becomes more near.
But his two friends so brave and true
Row quick ’longside in a canoe,
And fire in bruin leaden balls,
Thus saving friend from bear and falls.
Broken Raft Adventure
A man on Nova Scotian Bay
On broken raft was borne away,
Right out on the open sea
Where the storm did blow so free,
No shelter from the wind or wave
He thought the gulf would be his grave,
He had no food life to sustain,
He laid him down there to remain,
What happened he did know no more,
But old man on Prince Edward’s shore
Saw raft drifting near his shed
And thought the poor man was quite dead,
He called for help and soon they bore
His lifeless body to the shore,
But old man he did them desire
To place the body near the fire,
And wrap it up in blankets warm,
Which did act like to a charm,
And soon the breath it did return,
With gratitude his heart did burn,
To think he was again restored
Unto his friends whom he adored.
Bear Hunt
Two youths came over from York state,
Bill Brown and Tom Dawes his mate,
For many months they were wishing
The sport of hunting and of fishing.
They rowed along the lake in punt,
When tired of fishing they would hunt,
At river’s mouth they caught fine trout,
In woods close by they saw bear’s snout.
In front of her play little chubs,
Fat and slick her darling cubs,
Kind thoughts in their breasts they smother
And cruelly they shoot the mother.
And bullet fearful tore her jaws,
A bloody wound, but with her paws,
Erect in air an awful sight,
She was prepared for her young to fight.
But this did not daunt bold Bill Brown,
With club he tried to knock her down,
But she gave him an awful hug,
With paws she at him fierce did tug.
He would been smothered but for Dawes,
Who rescued him from her great paws,
With club he knocked her on the crown
And thus he saved the life of Brown.
She rose again with savage frown
And quickly broke two ribs for Brown,
His clothes were all torn with her claws,
She smeared with blood both Brown and Dawes.
But Dawes now quick doth end the strife
By stabbing her with hunting knife,
And now around this hunter bold
His bear skin coat keeps out the cold.
Coon Hunting
Canadians oft by light of moon
Love to go a hunting coon,
But this our tale it is no yarn,
While chopping down tree Henry Karn
Found therein a hollow chamber
Full of coons who there did clamber,
It made them a home superior,
Warm and snug in the interior.
And he did count therein eleven
Who long had found it a safe haven,
But it is sad to read their fate,
For out of them he slaughtered eight.
But trouble to him now occurs
What shall he do with those fine furs,
Shall he grand overcoat display
Or make them into robe for sleigh.
Sailor’s Yarn
While voyaging on northern seas
For days we could not catch a breeze,
But were held fast as if in vice
Surrounded by the bergs of ice,
We could not move the ship or boat
But on low, flat iceberg we did float;
Of provisions we took good store
With big oars we rowed the berg to shore,
And pride and joy each one feels
When we had caught ten thousand seals,
And our brave boys each one they dare
To boldly capture great white bear;
On floating berg we built with boards
A storehouse for to hold our hordes,
We had a stove and stock of coal,
So we enjoyed this voyage droll,
In centre of berg we dug a hole
And erected a strong pole,
The frost and ice soon held it fast
And well it served us for a mast,
On which we stretched out our sails
And scud along before the gales,
Until we came to an island
And on its sides it seemed highland,
And Britain being queen of seas,
For her this island we did seize,
To give her new coaling station
For to benefit the nation,
So when we had sailed landward
We erected British standard
On the highest mountain top,
Which graceful down to sea did slope,
We cast our anchor in its side
So to explore it far and wide,
But what was our astonishment
Without the least admonishment,
Our island soon away did float
As if it was a mighty boat.
Can you believe this wondrous tale?
It proved to be a monster whale,
And o’er the ocean quick it flew
With our great iceberg and our crew,
Until it came to Newfoundland,
Where all did safe on the ground land;
Poor whale was stranded on the beach
And his sea home no more could reach,
Our crew in great wealth each on shares,
By selling whale and seals and bears,
We hired steam tug to reach our ship,
Now free from ice we had quick trip,
And she being loaded down with seal,
And we all shared in common weal,
For joy each of us had reason,
Making two trips in one season.
Hunters and Trappers
Two hunters near to Hudson Bay,
Their names John Grant and Tom McKay,
Their skill and courage naught could daunt,
The boldest one perhaps was Grant.
The winter was their busy time,
When all was snow and frost and rime,
It paid best then to pull trigger,
For then furs were better thicker.
While setting trap Grant cut through boot
And quick the blood gushed from his foot,
The horrid scene, now who can paint,
For loss of blood soon makes him faint.
But his kind partner Tom McKay
The rush of blood he tried to stay,
And when its flow did somewhat slack
He carried him upon his back.
As homeward he doth slowly go,
A track of blood is o’er the snow,
But long and weary is the way
And soon exhausted is McKay.
He feels assistance he doth want,
For to rescue his dear friend Grant,
He stood him up against a tree
While the blood yet flowed quite free.
Now wolves had visited the trap
And blood from snow they eager lap,
Then tracked poor Grant, for on the snow
The blood in heavy drops did flow.
He soon got help, then John McKay
Doth hurry back without delay,
And what a sight then met their gaze
Filled them with horror and amaze.
The sight their minds will ever haunt,
Mangled by wolves was their friend Grant,
But round him several wolves were slain
With bullet holes right through their brain.
For he had fought hard for his life,
And some he slew with hunting
