furrows made across the
fallow by the plough.

From Hamilton, on Lake Ontario, to Bradford, the country is very
beautifully broken and undulating, occasionally precipitate and hilly.
You pass through forests of splendid timber, chiefly fir, but of a size
which is surprising. Here are masts for "tall admirals," so lofty that
you could not well perceive a squirrel, or even a large animal, if upon
one of the topmast boughs. The pine forests are diversified by the oak;
you sometimes pass through six or seven miles of the first description
of timber, which gradually changes, until you have six or seven miles of
forest composed entirely of oak. The road is repairing and levelling,
preparatory to its being macadamised--certainly not before it was
required, for it is at present execrable throughout the whole province.
Every mile or so you descend into a hollow, at the bottom of which is
what they term a _mud hole_, that is, a certain quantity of water and
mud, which is of a depth unknown, but which you must fathom by passing
through it. To give an Englishman an idea of the roads is not easy; I
can only say that it is very possible for a horse to be drowned in one
of the _ruts_, and for a pair of them to disappear, waggon and all, in a
_mud hole_.

At Bradford, on Grand River, are located some remnants of the Mohawk
tribe of Indians; they are more than demi-civilised; they till their
farms, and have plenty of horses and cattle. A smart looking Indian
drove into town, when I was there, in a waggon with a pair of good
horses; in the waggon were some daughters of one of their chiefs; they
were very richly dressed after their own fashion, their petticoats and
leggings being worked with beads to the height of two feet from the
bottom, and in very good taste; and they wore beaver hats and feathers
of a pattern which used formerly to be much in vogue with the ladies of
the seamen at Plymouth and Portsmouth.

From Bradford to London the roads are _comparatively_ good; the country
rises, and the plain is nearly one hundred feet above the level of the
river Thames, a beautifully wide stream, whose two branches join at the
site of this town. The land here is considered to be the finest in the
whole province, and the country the most healthy.

From London to Chatham the roads are really _awful_. I had the pleasure
of tumbling over head and ears into a mud hole, at about twelve o'clock
at night; the horses were with difficulty sav