touch-wood—when all this is remembered, perhaps a faint idea of the scene may be gathered.
In addition to this, the barns and stables were filled with crops, which had just been gathered, while in the warehouses were stored large quantities of gun-powder, spirits, and the most combustible commodities, and the necessary supplies for the coming winter.
The settlements and dwellings, too, were merely a fringe along the river, none of them extending more than a quarter of a mile back from the shores, while for miles and miles beyond them stretched the immense tract of dry, parched forests, only waiting for the torch to burst out into one devouring flame. The ground was thickly strewn with the feather-like leaves, almost as combustible as a lucifer match, so that, in fact, the people had been slumbering on the edge of a volcano.
Then, it must be remembered, that these woods swarmed with droves of terrified animals, while dependent on the settlements were hundreds of domestic ones, and through the interior were scattered thousands of men, who received no warning of the true nature of their great danger, until, like the Alpine avalanche, it burst upon them.
So great was the fury of the hurricane which accompanied the sweep of this tremendous conflagration, that immense chunks of blazing wood were driven like bombs through the air, while others, which weighed several pounds, went sailing on high like so many wisps of straw.
By this means, the flames advanced faster than the swiftest race horse, and cut off the retreat of many and many a hapless man and beast. Numerous gangs of men at work in the woods, were suddenly caught in inextricable death.
Those who lived along the Miramichi, deserting all property, made for the river, as the only means of safety. In the rush and attempt at crossing, many were drowned. One woman, who could not swim, seized the tail of a terrified steer, which towed her to the other side. Those who did not dare to make the attempt, waded out until up to their necks, when by constantly dipping their heads during the white heat of the fire, they succeeded in saving themselves.
What could be more gloomy and heart-depressing than to walk in the wake of the conflagration? Had we passed along the Miramichi, on that October day in 1825, what should we have seen?
Newcastle, but yesterday a flourishing town of a thousand inhabitants, was now a mass of smouldering, charred, and almost undistinguishable ruins; while Douglasstown, not quite half the size, was reduced to the same hapless condition.
Of the two hundred and fifty houses which made up the latter, only a dozen remained, while the ratio in the latter place was about the same. In the Miramichi were about a hundred and fifty vessels, the majority of which were burned to the water's edge, while others were severely scorched and badly injured.
Along the banks of the river, wandered groups of half-starved, houseless beings, lamenting the loss of friends and property, and vainly seeking for some suitable place of refuge. Everywhere were seen the smoking skeletons of human beings, and of wild and domestic animals. Hundreds of beasts lay in the woods, their carcasses giving forth a poisonous effluvium, while myriads of salmon, trout, bass, and other fish poisoned by the alkali formed by the precipitation of the ashes, lay dead along the parched shores of the river, and added to the contagious poison which filled the air.
