Those Who Wish To Change Muskoka To Their Own Liking Will Never Bulldoze The Folklore That Respected The Beautiful Muskoka Lakeland

The Power House at Bracebridge Falls

A young Mary Reid and Teddy, the daughter of Maud and Rev. Ewing Reid of Toronto, Browning Island and Gravenhurst

 THE SAVING OF AN ENGLISHMAN LOST IN THE FROZEN MUSKOKA WILDS - A LEGEND IS CREATED

BY TED AND SUZANNE CURRIE

     You won’t find a story like the one published below, in any of the glossy, highbrow magazines distributed throughout Muskoka and beyond, simply because space is at a premium, and apparently the rich and extravagant these days have more interest in chrome appliances, granite counter-tips, cottage-chic decor, and living the hermitically sealed perfect life in the perfect cottage, which really isn’t a cottage at all as us old-timers of this district knew once upon a time. I suppose in a way, Suzanne and I are quite thankful to these glossy-magazine types, for pushing us to revisit Muskoka the way it was, and will, in essence, carry-on whenever our true heritage comes up in conversation or for the sake of nostalgia looking back at the days we had when our region was so much less urbanized and customized to meet the needs of those who like their stake in the hinterland to be extravagantly appointed in, well, luxurious luxury. It’s hard to believe we could be happy in a little Thoreauesque cabin in the woods, with some fishing rods hung on the coat rack inside the door, and not even full partitions between the rooms. Meaning that the kids in the cottage could toss projectiles from bedroom to bedroom, including remnants of peanut butter and jam sandwiches, and we loved every moment of this most simple,  and unfettered recreation. Today, a cottage like this wouldn’t even make the grade of a garden shed, and compared to what was commonplace in the 1950’s and 60’s, it would now be compared to Casa Loma proportions. Gosh, are the dwellers of these places any happier than we were with a few rooms and a view of our beautiful nature. It makes us angry to know how much woodland around our lakes has been ravaged so that today’s cottagers can have a multi-million dollar view of the waterway, that they never even dip their toes it, because they’ve got a hot tub or pool instead. Are we jealous? Not one bit. Less is more to our family and the true nature of Muskoka is perfect on its own without being bulldozed and sculpted beyond anything recognizable as the hinterland as rightful habitat of the critters that were here first. I don’t see a lot of this kind of recognition in these same glossy publications.

     In the Muskoka chronicle there are hundreds of interesting stories, of folk legend stature, that were never really given the prominence they deserved. They were given only modest mention by historians, who were more fascinated by political milestones, and economic development, than the studies of the good folk who settled and farmed this huge region of Ontario, and became the good neighbors and humanitarians, who kept everything else on the proverbial even keel. These are important social / cultural biographies in part, and it is devastating to us, as folk historians, that so many incredible tales of courage in the face of danger, have been lost due to disinterest. They were told and re-told by generations of Muskokans, as important family milestones, but seemingly never written down in any kind of public record, for the futurists to possess as rich heirlooms; about the way it really was on this frontier before the very first granite countertop was invented and installed in a Muskoka cottage or home. The fact that we still possess some of these folktales makes us feel we can protect at least part of the legacy of neighbor civility, honestly, co-operation, and compassion, and it seems such a worthy mission in our own retirement, to make sure these bits and bobs of history have their own renaissance of relevance. The tale printed below is about a great uncle of Suzanne’s, John Lily Shea, who was known for his generosity and his strength of body and character, who saved an English emigrant, who had become disoriented in a snowstorm blowing across the frozen expanse of Lake Rosseau; carrying the half frozen teacher a long way to the safety of a settler’s cabin. We can’t lose these precious stories, like the forests of Muskoka are being razed of their natural integrity. We have many more stories to share about what we worry is a vanishing Muskoka district. It’s got to survive as more than a “name” on a map. Much more to come. 

     "AT THIS DATE IN THE SETTLEMENT (LATER 1860'S) ON THE SOUTH SHORE OF THREE MILE LAKE (PRESENT TOWNSHIP OF MUSKOKA LAKES), THE SETTLERS WHO HAD MOVED IN, MANY WERE YOUNG PEOPLE WITH FAMILIES, AND WERE VERY MUCH CONCERNED ABOUT THE EDUCATION OF THEIR CHILDREN," WROTE FAMILY HISTORY, BERT SHEA, AUTHOR OF "HISTORY OF THE SHEAS AND BIRTH OF A TOWNSHIP," PUBLISHED IN THE LATE 1960'S. yOU CAN ARCHIVE BACK TWO BLOGS, TO OTHER REFERENCES TO BERT SHEA'S PIONEER HISTORY.

     "IT IS TRUE THAT CHILDREN RAISED UNDER PIONEER CONDITIONS, GET AN EDUCATION SELDOM CONSIDERED, AND MUCH LESS RECOGNIZED AS SUCH, BY THOSE LIVING UNDER MORE FAVORABLE CIRCUMSTANCES. BUT WHEN THE TWO GRADUATES OF THE TWO SCHOOLS ARE PUT TO THE TEST, THE PRACTICAL EDUCATION OF THE PIONEER WILL SURVIVE, THE OTHER MAY, WITH HELP. THIS HAS BEEN PROVEN IN WATT, BUT BOTH TOGETHER WILL PRODUCE A COMMUNITY FROM THE WILDS, WHOSE OFFSPRING WILL ABLY HOLD THEIR PLACE, AND SET A MARK TO BE ADMIRED BY THE BEST. IN THE FOLLOWING LINES, THE WRITER WILL RELATE A RECORD, THAT WAS OFFERED TO ME, AND WILL GIVE SUPPORT TO THE ABOVE STATEMENT."

     MR SHEA, (MY WIFE, SUZANNE'S UNCLE), WRITES, "IN MID WINTER OF 1867, JOHN LILY SHEA WITH HIS BIG HOUND, WAS FOLLOWING THE TRACK OF A BUCK. THEY HAD ROUTED FROM THE YARD IN A SWAMP SOMEWHERE WEST OF THREE MILE LAKE. FOR MANY HOURS THROUGH VIRGIN FOREST, OVER ICE-CLAD STREAMS, RIVERS AND LAKES, UNABLE TO SHAKE HIS PURSUERS, HE SET OUT FOR DISTANT TERRITORY COMING TO LAKE ROSSEAU, NEAR THE PRESENT VILLAGE OF WINDERMERE. THE BUCK TOOK TO CROSSING THE LAKE ON THE ICE, WHICH WAS COVERED WITH SNOW AND WATER. THE DETERMINATION OF THE HOUND WAS UNSHAKEN FROM THE TRACK, AND JOHN LILY, EQUIPPED WITH SNOWSHOES COULD TRAVEL OVER THE SLUSH AND SNOW; IN FACT FOR HIM, TRAVEL WAS EASIER THAN IN THE BUSH. AT PART WAY ACROSS THE LAKE, HE MET ANOTHER TRACK TO HIS SURPRISE AND CURIOSITY; IT UNDOUBTEDLY WAS THE TRACK OF A MAN, BUT WHO AND WHY, WALKING, WADING THROUGH SLUSH AND SNOW. HE WOULD BE WET AND IN THIS WINTER TEMPERATURE; HE WOULD FREEZE.

     "THERE AND THEN WITH HIS EDUCATION IN THE WILDS, JOHN LILY BEGAN TO SUM UP THE QUESTION IN THIS MANNER; THERE WAS A SETTLEMENT AT PORT CARLING, AND ANOTHER AT ROSSEAU. IT WOULD APPEAR SOMEONE WAS TRAVELING FROM ONE VILLAGE TO THE OTHER, AND ONE WHO, LACKING IN KNOWLEDGE OF THE WILDS, HAD OBVIOUSLY NOT BEEN EDUCATED IN THE PIONEER SCHOOL. JOHN LILY COULD SEE THIS AND HE ALSO KNEW BY HIS CROOKED PATH, AND THE LENGTH OF HIS STEPS, THE GAUNT GREY FIGURE (HIS DOG ON THE BUCK) WAS STALKING CLOSE TO HIS PREY. HERE FOR ONCE AND NEVER BEFORE, THE FAITHFUL HOUND MUST BE DESERTED, TO FOLLOW THE TRAIL OF THE HUNTED, WITHOUT HIS MASTER TO MAKE THE KILL AND CAPTURE THE PRIZE, THAT MEANT LIFE TO MAN AND DOG. JOHN LILY LOOKED REGRETFULLY AFTER THE HOUND BUT TURNED HIS STEPS TO HUNT IN MERCY RATHER THAN TO KILL, TO FOLLOW THE TRACKS OF A FELLOW MAN, TO SAVE HIM FROM A DEATH BY FREEZING. HE QUICKENED HIS PACE; THE HARNESS ON HIS SNOWSHOES SEEMED TO SQUEAK, AS IF EXTRA STRESS WAS BEING PLACED ON THEM. THE SNOW SWISHED THROUGH THE WEBBING OF HIS SNOWSHOES, THE BREATH FROM HIS NOSTRILS FLOATED ON THE FROSTY AIR." EACH STEP FORWARD WOULD HAVE SEEMED AS IF LIFTING BLOCKS OF ICE, AND IT WAS WEARING THE TRAVELLER DOWN. HE WAS EXHAUSTED, AND TRAVELLED MUCH FURTHER OFF COURSE THAN HE FELT COMFORTABLE, CONSIDERING THE TIME OF DAY, AND THE DROPPING TEMPERATURE OF THE LATE AFTERNOON.

     THE WATT TOWNSHIP HISTORIAN, RECORDS THAT, "THEY BAYING OF THE HOUND SLOWLY DIED IN THE DISTANCE, AND A DEATHLY SILENCE SETTLED DOWN OVER ALL. THE SUN WAS SETTLING TO AN EARLY DECLINE IN THE GREY WEST, SIGNS OF SNOW WERE EVIDENT. HE HURRIED ON, IF HE SHOULD FIND THE STRANGER IN TIME; IF NOT AND DARKNESS OVERTOOK HIM, AND THE FRESH FALLING SNOW BY MORNING, WOULD SPREAD A COVERING, A BLANKET; AND ONE MORE WOULD BE BENEATH A SHROUD OF FLEECY WHITE, WHERE NONE COULD FIND HIM. THE TRACK NOW, LED TOWARD THE ISLAND SHORE, LATER KNOWN AS TOBIN'S ISLAND. STUMBLING, FALLING, CRAWLING UP THE BANK TO A SHANTY OF POLES, A FEW YARDS FROM THE SHORE, A BUILDING WITHOUT DOOR OR WINDOWS, UNFINISHED AND NO MEANS OF A FIRE; HERE TO STAY WAS THE MAN, LAYING ON THE GROUND FLOOR, LOST AND FREEZING TO DEATH. AND ONE WHO, THOUGH A STRANGER, WAS READY TO SACRIFICE TO SAVE A FELLOW MAN FROM SUCH A DEATH. HE CAME TO THE SHANTY DOOR, AND PEERED IN; THERE BEFORE HIM ON THE GROUND, WAS A YOUNG MAN DRESSED IN CITY CLOTHES, FACE WITHOUT WHISKERS AND ICE AND SNOW FROZEN TO THE LEGS OF HIS PANTS. WAS HE TOO LATE?"

     "JOHN LILY SPOKE AND SHOOK HIM," WROTE BERT SHEA. "THE STRANGER SLOWLY ROUSED; HE WAS BECOMING NUMB WITH COLD HIMSELF. HE KNEW A FIRE AND QUICK, AND PLENTY OF RUBBING WAS NEEDED RIGHT AWAY. JOHN HAD A LIGHT AXE, AND SOON WOOD WAS PREPARED, BIRCH BARK AND SHAVINGS FOR THE FIRE. THEN WITH HIS FLINT AND PUNK, AND JACK KNIFE, A SPARK WAS STRUCK. THE PUNK CAUGHT, THEN WITH SOME BLOWING, THE BIRCH BARK CAUGHT AND A FIRE STARTED. SOON THE LEAPING FLAMES BROUGHT CHEER AND HOPE AND WARMTH, WHICH HELPED REVIVE THE PATIENT. HE DISCOVERED HIS FEET HAD BEEN TOUCHED BY FROST AND HIS TOES FROZEN; HE ALSO REALIZED THE MAN WAS UNABLE TO HELP HIMSELF. HE COULD NOT BE LEFT WHERE HE WAS. WHILE HELP WAS BEING SOUGHT, BUT ABLE HELP MILES AWAY, BY BUSH TRAVEL HERE, HE THOUGHT AND PLANNED AND DREW ON HIS RESOURCES OF EXPERIENCE AND MUSCLE. HE REMEMBERED THE CLOSEST HABITATION OF ANOTHER MAN, WAS AT PORTAGE BAY, OR KNOWN AS SMALLBONES BAY. AN OLD MAN LIVED THERE IN A SMALL SHANTY; HE HAVING COME BY WATER TO THIS BEAUTIFUL BAY, WHICH FOR YEARS BEYOND NUMBER, HAD BEEN THE LANDING PLACE OF THE INDIANS, GOING TO AND FROM THREE MILE LAKE; THEN TO SKELETON LAKE, AND ON. HERE IN THE LITTLE FLAT, NESTLED AT THE FOOT OF THE HILLS, WITH A BEAUTIFUL SAND BEACH IN FRONT, THE OLD GENTLEMAN "SMALLBONES," SET UP HIS SHANTY, A PLACE OF HABITATION OF BARE NECESSITIES; BUT THERE WAS FIRE AND WARMTH AND ABOVE ALL, WARM-HEARTED PIONEER HOSPITALITY; AND OF COURSE, A READINESS TO ASSIST AND WELCOME TO THE BEST HE HAD."

     BERT SHEA REMINDS OF THE DIRE SITUATION, FACED BY THE RESCUER. "JOHN LILY LOOKED AT THE MAN AND SHOT A GLANCE ACROSS THE FIELD OF WHITE, IN THE DIRECTION OF PORTAGE BAY, BUT FROM HIS POINT WAS NOT VISIBLE. HE LOOKED AT HIS SNOWSHOES MADE BY HIS OWN HAND, FROM HIS OWN MAKE OF RAWHIDE, AND TIMBER, CHOSEN BY HIS STANDARD FOR LIGHTNESS AND STRENGTH, BUT NOT TO CARRY THE WEIGHT OF TWO MEN. BUT THEY WERE MADE TO STAND THE PACK TRAIL AND HERE HE LOADED HIS PACK, HIS LIVING HUMAN CARGO ON HIS BACK, AND STARTED FOR THE LAKE; THE FIELD OF WHITE FOR MILES BEFORE HIM. THE WEIGHT BORE DOWN ON HIM, DROVE HIS SNOWSHOES DEEPER THAN BEFORE. HE TRIED TO FIT HIS PACK, TO A MORE COMFORTABLE POSITION, AND SET OUT ON THE PACKER'S STRIDE; EXPERIENCE HAD TAUGHT HIM THE STEADY RHYTHM OF A PACE HE COULD STAND FOR MILES, EASIER ON HIMSELF AND EASIER ON THE RIGGING.

     "NIGHT WAS RAPIDLY CLOSING IN, THE TEMPERATURE WEAS FALLING, FROSTY SNOW BORN ON THE WIND, THICKENING THE AIR, A FAILURE ON HIS PART, COULD NOT ONLY BE SERIOUS FOR HIS BURDEN, BUT FOR HIMSELF ALSO. STEP AFTER STEP, HE REACHED THE CENTRE OF THE CHANNEL. SLOWLY HE CROSSED, AND ON TO THE POINT, AND DOWN THE SHORE, SLOWLY DRAWING CLOSER TO THE CABIN; COLDER GREW THE AIR. HE PERSPIRED AS HE BECAME WEARY, HE PAUSED TO CHANGE THE POSITION OF HIS LOAD; HE CHANGED HIS GUN TO THE OTHER HAND AND BENT FORWARD BENEATH HIS HUMAN BURDEN. COLD WAS GRIPPING THE STRANGER, MORE SERIOUS GREW HIS CONDITION. JOHN LILY LOOKED AHEAD MORE OFTEN. HE COULD SEE THE SMOKE FROM THE SHANTY CHIMNEY, SLOWLY THE DISTANCE SHORTENED BETWEEN HIM AND SHELTER. HERE WAS WHERE HE COULD LEAVE HIS BURDEN FOR THE NIGHT. AT LAST HIS SNOWSHOES SET UPON HARD SNOW. AS HE REACHED THE PATH AND FOLLOWED FROM THE WATER HOLE IN THE ICE TO THE CABIN DOOR. THE RATTLE OF THE SNOWSHOES AND THE BARKING OF THE BIG HOUND, THAT HAD CAUGHT UP WITH HIS MASTER, CAUSED THE OLD MAN TO OPEN THE DOOR AND PEER OUT, HIS BENT FORM AND WHITE WHISKERS SHOWING IN THE LIGHT OF THE OPEN FIREPLACE. AS HE STOOD IN WONDER AT THE TWO MEN APPROACHING HIS DOOR. SOON THEY WERE INSIDE, THE DOOR WAS SHUT TIGHT. JOHN LILY LET DOWN HIS PACK AND IN RELIEF, HE STOOD UP, TWISTED HIS FEET OUT OF HIS SNOWSHOES. THE OLD GENTLEMAN, SMALLBONES, SOON UNDERSTOOD THE CIRCUMSTANCES, AND TOGETHER THEY GAVE HIM TREATMENT TO DRAW THE FROST FROM HIS FEET AND HANDS. THE WARMTH OF THE FIRE BROUGHT PAIN; TO THIS THEY COULD GIVE NO RELIEF, OTHER THAN SOME HOT TEA AND A SUPPER OF BOILED POTATOES AND PORK; POTATOES GROWN IN NEW LAND, TO A FREEZING AND HUNGRY MAN, GAVE RENEWED STRENGTH AND LIFE." THE WALK ON SNOWSHOES, WITH A MAN ON HIS BACK, WOULD HAVE TAKEN JOHN LILY AT LEAST TWO HOURS OR MORE, TO MAKE IT FROM TOBIN'S ISLAND TO THE EAST SHORE OF PORTAGE BAY.

     "SOON THE PATIENT FELT LIKE TALKING SOME; HE GAVE HIS NAME AS HARRY G. GILL FROM ENGLAND, WHO HAD BEEN GIVEN A FIRST CLASS EDUCATION IN THE OLD LAND, AND WHO HAD ATTENDED UNIVERSITY WITH THE FAMOUS RYDAR HAGGARD, AND SET OUT FOR CANADA TO MAKE HIS FORTUNE, WHERE MEN OF HIGHER EDUCATION WERE IN DEMAND. HE HAD COME TO PORT CARLING WITH INTENT OF GOING TO ROSSEAU, WHERE THERE WERE OTHERS OF HIS ACQUAINTANCE, WHO WERE PERHAPS IN THE SAME STRAITS; AND HAD GOTTEN TO THE END OF THE TRAIL, WHERE KNOWLEDGE OF SURVIVAL COUNTED MORE THAN COLLEGE EDUCATION, AT LEAST FOR THE TIME BEING. AND GILL, LIKE MANY OTHER OLD COUNTRY MEN, FOUND HE BETTER CONTENT HIMSELF UNTIL BETTER OPPORTUNITIES AROSE, WITH THE OPENING OF A NEW COUNTRY, THOUGH RECOMPENSE WAS MEAGRE. ON THIS PARTICULAR DAY IN THE YEAR OF 1867, A CHAPTER HAD BEEN WRITTEN IN HIS LIFE. AND IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF WATT TOWNSHIP, THAT THOUGH HE WAS NO SAINT, YET AS FROM THIS DATE OF WRITING, THE WRITER IN SCANNING THE HORIZON OF THE PAST, COULD SEE TO SOME EXTENT HIS (TEACHER'S) INFLUENCE IN THE PRESENT. THIS MAN ARRIVED AT A DATE AND FILLED A PLACE IN THE COMMUNITY, THAT IN LATER PAGES, THE READER WILL SEE, WERE INFLUENTIAL IN MANY WAYS. HE SERVED IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE COMMUNITY, AND TO HELP WITH EDUCATION, WHERE THERE WAS NO OTHER TEACHER TO FILL THE VOID."

     THIS STORY WILL BE CONTINUED IN TOMORROW'S BLOG. THANKS TO JOHN LILY SHEA, AND MR. SMALLBONES, A TEACHER WAS SPARED A TERRIBLE DEMISE. IN RETURN, THE GOOD MR. GILL, SERVED TO INSPIRE MANY YOUNG FOLKS, TO BE PROUD CANADIANS.