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.
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