After Passing The Pretty Little Village Of Dartmouth, We Came Upon Some
Wigwams Of Birch-Bark Among The Trees.
Some squaws, with papooses strapped
upon their backs, stared vacantly at us as we passed, and one little
barefooted
Indian, with a lack of apparel which showed his finely moulded
form to the best advantage, ran by the side of the coach for two or three
miles, bribed by coppers which were occasionally thrown to him.
A dreary stage of eighteen miles brought us to Shultze's, a road-side inn
by a very pretty lake, where we were told the "coach breakfasted."
Whether Transatlantic coaches can perform this, to us, unknown feat, I
cannot pretend to say, but we breakfasted. A very coarse repast was
prepared for us, consisting of stewed salt veal, country cheese, rancid
salt butter, fried eggs, and barley bread; but we were too hungry to find
fault either with it, or with the charge made for it, which equalled that
at a London hotel. Our Yankee coachman, a man of monosyllables, sat next
to me, and I was pleased to see that he regaled himself on tea instead of
spirits.
We packed ourselves into the stage again with great difficulty, and how
the forty-eight limbs fared was shown by the painful sensations
experienced for several succeeding days. All the passengers, however, were
in perfectly good humour, and amused each other during the eleven hours
spent in this painful way. At an average speed of six miles an hour we
travelled over roads of various descriptions, plank, corduroy, and sand;
up long heavy hills, and through swamps swarming with mosquitoes.
Every one has heard of corduroy roads, but how few have experienced their
miseries! They are generally used for traversing swampy ground, and are
formed of small pine-trees deprived of their branches, which are laid
across the track alongside each other. The wear and tear of travelling
soon separates these, leaving gaps between; and when, added to this, one
trunk rots away, and another sinks down into the swamp, and another tilts
up, you may imagine such a jolting as only leather springs could bear. On
the very worst roads, filled with deep holes, or covered with small
granite boulders, the stage only swings on the straps. Ordinary springs,
besides dislocating the joints of the passengers, would be wrenched and
broken after a few miles travelling.
Even as we were, faces sometimes came into rather close proximity to each
other and to the side railings, and heads sustained very unpleasant
collisions. The amiable man who was so disappointed with the American
climate suffered very much from the journey. He said he had thought a
French diligence the climax of discomfort, but a "stage was misery, oh
torture!" Each time that we had rather a worse jolt than usual the poor
man groaned, which always drew forth a chorus of laughter, to which he
submitted most good-humouredly. Occasionally he would ask the time, when
some one would point maliciously to his watch, remarking, "Twelve hours
more," or "Fifteen hours more," when he would look up with an expression
of despair.
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