We Drove On Twenty-Two Miles In The Afternoon, And, Being All Down
Wind, Were Pestered With Mosquitoes And Most Fearfully Bitten.
The country much the same as the previous day, very little taken
up; but the wild flowers lovely.
We counted forty-two different
specimens; those yellow orchids you are so proud of at home, also
red tiger-lilies, phloxes, and endless other varieties. Birtle,
another mushroom town, looked so pretty and picturesque as we came
down upon it, by the evening light, situated in a deep gorge much
wooded on the Birdtail-Creek.
You would have laughed to see us arrive at what we thought our
destination - a nice house on the top of the opposite hill
belonging to a friend of the Manager's, where we were to be
hospitably entertained. The house was locked up, but that was no
obstacle; we forced the windows open, and whilst A - - put the
horses up, the Manager went down the hill for water, I foraged for
eatables, E - - for wood to light the fire, and we very shortly
afterwards sat down to a very fair meal; our neighbours' bacon and
tea, but our own bread. Luckily a Winnipeg lady, hearing of our
arrival, came up to offer her services in the shape of food or
lodging; the latter we two gladly accepted, instead of pitching
our tent outside the house, which was already full, three
bachelors living there and our two men intending steeping between
the walls, _coute que coule_. The house we spent our night in
was a log one, and though unpapered, looked very comfortable, and
was prettily hung round with Japanese fans and scrolls, and
various photographs. We had a funny little canvas partition in the
roof allotted to us; but were not particular, and did great credit
to our feather bed.
And how excellent our breakfast was next morning, porridge and
eggs; we hardly knew when to stop eating. We started early to Fort
Ellice, one of the Hudson Bay forts, hoping to find the steamer on
the Assiniboine to take us back to Winnipeg; but unfortunately it
had stuck on the rapids. So after waiting twenty-four hours at the
fort, we determined to drive down to the end of the Canadian
Pacific Railway, and so home. The old fort is very little altered
from what it used to be, surrounded by its wooden pailings, and
having a store on the left side of the entrance gate, where all
the Indians come to make their purchases in cotton-goods and
groceries in exchange for their blankets, moccassins, or furs. The
Assiniboine we crossed just before getting to the fort, on a
ferry. It is a grand winding river with fearfully steep banks, 380
feet almost straight up, which was a pull for our horses, the
tracks being very, bad, and not well engineered, going perpendicularly
up the hill. Mr. Macdonald is the "boss" at the fort, and had known
two of our friends who were up here several years ago.
There is a Lincolnshire man farming on a large scale settled not
very far away from the fort; but we had neither time nor
inclination to go further north. We hoped against hope that the
steamer might get up, but on Saturday gave it up as useless, and
settled to drive towards Gophir Ferry, trying to find a friend
who, when out at C - - Farm, told us he was living on section xxvii
by 13, and near two creeks. For the first five miles our road lay
along the Beaver Creek, which was pretty; but afterwards the
scenery much resembled Winnipeg, flat and uninteresting, not a
tree, and without even the beautiful vegetation and flowers we had
had on our previous drives. We had to stop several times to look
at the section-posts, it was quite an excitement to mark every new
number we came to. Our road took us pretty straight to the Mouse
Mountain trail; but at a shanty being advised to leave the track
and go straight over the prairie, we overshot the tents we were in
search of by a short distance.
Our friend had not returned from Winnipeg, but we made ourselves
quite at home, pitching our tent alongside of his men's. He had
four Englishmen working for him, two of them were tenant-farmers
at home; one man, who had been out two years, had had a large farm
near King's Lynn, and has taken up a section close by; but as he
bought his land too late in the spring to do anything to it;
beyond hoping to build himself a shanty before the winter set in,
he is working for our friend, who has 2,000 acres. Another of the
men was a newly-arrived emigrant; he and his three children were
nearly devoured by mosquitoes, and were most grateful for some
concoction we gave them to allay the irritation. He had been quite
a "gent" in his own country, but bad times and alcohol I had been
too much for him. I don't think he at all relished the work he had
to do, ploughing with oxen all day, &c. They plough almost
entirely with oxen up in this country. The oxen are easier to
feed, and don't suffer so much from the alkali in the water. But
most of the Englishmen when they first get out here dislike using
them, they are so slow; and I should agree with them.
A great many new-comers find the ways and means difficult to
conform to, and would give a good deal to go back; but after they
have been out a year or two they drop into fresh habits and seem
to like the life.
On Sunday we started late, for two reasons. The horses which had
been very restless all night, driven mad by the mosquitoes, could
not be found, having wandered over the brow of the hill to the
river edge, to catch the slight breeze blowing; and secondly we
thought we would have a rest, and did nothing but regret it all
day, as the heat, was fearful, and as we went down wind the
mosquitoes were ditto.
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