April 21

Rain overnight and low cloud this morning.
I was relieved yesterday to get a facebook message from one our Japanese friends that they are all well but unfortunately llive each day with the fear of radiation hanging over their heads (almost literally).
After finishing the Bryce Courtenay book I referred to a couple of days ago, I was compelled to do some online research about WW1. It is amazing how the governments of the world keep changing "bed partners". I realize now I should have paid more attention in history class!

I see that already this morning there is a good number of viewers, perhaps RH's story is the drawing card, or perhaps the wisdom of the white moose :>)?

So here is his next chapter ---:

Chapter 4.

At last sufficient snow had fallen to make sleighing, so we decided to begin our journey to Nelsonville in the morning.

The old homestead law giving 160 acres for a homestead and 160 acres for a pre-emption came again into force so I planned to enter for my land when at Nelsonville, and W. Leadbeater came along to enter for the N1/2 of Sec.16, twp. 7, range 12.

We had arranged to call for W. Watkins on the way as he wished to go along and enter for his land.

We made an early start and had reached Watkins’ and Evans’ shack 6 miles east at daybreak.  Dave Evans a few days previously had shot a lynx and we thought to play a joke on him and imitated the cry of a lynx as we walked around the house and stable.

We could hear them stirring inside and then as the door was quietly opened and Dave appeared with his gun, partly dressed and closely followed by Billy as Watkins was usually called and when they saw us we had a good laugh on them.  We warmed ourselves as Billy ate his breakfast and then we headed in the direction of John Moir’s house and reached there and had an early lunch.

From Moir’s we went direct south into the Tiger Hills, over the Boyne river and on past where John Hall later took up land, and then along through a rough country covered with a growth of scrub and scattered timber, and had difficulty in following a poorly marked trail.  It was now becoming dark and we lost the trail completely, but we managed to keep on a southerly direction until we came to a hay stack on the edge of a marsh, and decided to camp for the night.  The horses were well blanketed and made as comfortable as possible.  Hay was pulled from the stack to feed them and also to provide a bed for ourselves.  We made a big camp fire and had something to eat and became well warmed up and then turned in for the night.  A light snow was falling so we had to keep our faces covered.

We all had a fine nights sleep and awoke early in the morning and found a fine blanket of snow over us.

We had breakfast and all ready to proceed before daylight and then recognized land marks and soon found the trail and in a short time came to our old camp ground on the Cypress River near Charlie Holland’s place.  At noon time we stopped for lunch a few miles north of St. Leon.

When we reached St. Leon I intended purchasing oats for our team which I was informed could be obtained at the store.

The trail was about 50 feet from the store and as I walked up the path leading to it, I noticed a young lady at the window looking out at me.  A thermometer was on the wall near the door and I noticed the temperature and shouted to boys on the sleigh, “25 below zero boys”.  Then I opened the door and enquired from the young lady if they had oats for sale.  She looked rather abashed and did not reply, and then on looking into the room I saw that church services were being held and the congregation had turned their heads and were looking at me.   I hurriedly closed the door and made my way back to the sleigh.  I discovered afterwards that the store was in the other end of the building.

We were informed here that we could save many miles by following a trail that led south east, instead of going via the Calf Mountain trail.  So we traveled this trail for several miles and came to Mr. Saunders’ where we put up for the night.

We met a man here who was going to Nelsonville and he joined us in the morning and acted as guide.

Only three buildings could be seen on the way from this trail which was poorly marked and led through a prairie and willow scrub country, until we came near Kilgour’s saw mill, which was located in quite a large forest of oak timber, near the brow of the Pembina mountains.  From here the trail led gradually down a valley to the plain below and then turned south for a few miles into Nelsonville.

The team was put into a stable and we made our way to the land office and entered our land, and then the sleigh was loaded with our goods and all made ready for the return journey.

The people who kept the hotel were very kind and hospitable to us and we spent a very pleasant evening with them.

It was now along about Dec. 15^th and we endeavored to make use of every minuet of daylight during the short days so as to make as many miles as possible.  Each day since we had left home the same weather conditions prevailed, cold and calm with a light snow fall and a dark lowering sky.

We began our homeward journey as daylight came, and we soon found that load made travelling much slower than with the empty sleigh, and when we began to ascend the trail up the valley to the mountain top, it became much slower and it was near noontime when we came to Kilgour’s mill, so we stopped and had lunch.

The road so far had been sheltered by the mountain and the woods to this point and now we began to experience a strong wind from the northwest.  As we proceeded it became stronger.

When we emerged from the woods into the open country we began to encounter a succession of snow drifts.  We could scarcely see any distance with so much driven snow in the air.

We struggled along under these conditions for a time and I began to realize that we could not possibly reach Mr. Saunders’ place before dark with our load.  I judged we had left about five miles to go.  We decided that Watkins and Leadbeater would camp at the sleigh and I would go on and find shelter for the team.

The horses were unhitched from the sleigh and I drove them with the lines feeling confident that I could soon reach shelter.  The wind was blowing from the direction that I was to take to reach Saunders’ and I headed directly into it to guide me.

The sleigh marks left by us on our way to Nelsonville over the burned ground were obliterated and even if they were not it would have been impossible to have followed them as the darkness had now set in.

The storm increased in violence as I struggled along, and the biting cold wind was blowing a terrific gale, driving the snow in dense masses and sweeping the burned prairie clear of snow and piling it up in great drifts wherever there were shrubs or trees to hold it.

The horses would plunge through the drifts and would become entangled in the lines, so I then made use of the lines to lead them.  They were unwilling to head into the storm and always endeavored to turn their backs to it and go with the storm.

When they plunged through the drifts, I was in danger of being trampled upon and I had to exert myself to keep out of their way, and being so heavily clothed it was very exhausting.  I would allow the horses to turn their backs to the wind occasionally, and I would hold onto the harness and support myself and have a short rest.  I felt so warm and sleepy that I imagined it would be pleasant to lie down in the snow, but something always prompted me to keep on.

The moisture from my breath and snow froze into my mustache and formed into a solid mass, and it would freeze onto my chin and my eyelids would freeze together with the snow so I had to rub them frequently to clear them.  The horses became hard to control, and would insist on stopping near bushes to eat them.

During all this time the wind kept up a steady roar, and I had struggling and wandering around so much I thought it was time that I should have reached Saunders’ and then I came to a small shack.  I rapped on the door but received no response.  I could hear that there was something moving inside, so I shouted to them that I was lost and had a team with me, and pleaded to be admitted but still no reply so I concluded they did not want to let me in, so traveled on, and the horses reluctantly followed me.

After some time I came to a small log stable with a few loose poles on it for a roof.  I got the horses into it and with much difficulty with my benumbed hands managed to unharness them and tied them to a pole manger.

The logs had been chinked with hay, and some of it was still clinging to the logs.  This the horses eagerly reached for and ate, and they soon had all within reach devoured and I gathered all I could get and gave them.  They spent the balance of the night in gnawing the manger poles and the logs before them.

The shack was really no shelter in a way, for the wind blew through between the logs and snow drifted over the floor.  However, it gave me a rest and I crouched down in a corner where there was a big drift outside the logs to shelter me.  The warm drowsy feeling had left me sometime before I had reached here and now I kept up a constant shivering that I could not get rid of although I was warmly clad.  I felt confident that I was in no immediate danger of freezing to death, as long as I shivered for it kept me wide awake.

When the first streaks of day came I was out with the horses, and began wandering around again.  The snow drifts had become so packed and frozen that it made difficult travelling.  After a time the snowfall suddenly stopped and I could see Mr. Saunders’ house about a mile and a half distant, so I struck out and reached it by ten o’clock.

The men put my team in the stable and I was hustled into the house, and the women gave me warm drinks and thawed out my frost bitten nose, cheek and chin, and soon I felt no ill effects from my experience, except for the chilly feeling that persisted for several hours.

Leadbeater and Watkins arrived late in the afternoon.  They had called at the two houses on their way to enquire for me, and felt relieved when they found I was before them.  They had slept well all night and were so warm that they had perspired and after they arose their overcoats became frozen on them.  They were buried under a snow drift and had quite a time separating their bedding from the snow.

The next day Mr. Saunders took his team and recovered our sleigh, and I found that the place I had called at during the storm and was not admitted, was a stable, and the owner lived only a short distance from it.

We resumed our homeward journey next morning, Bill drove the team and Watkins and I went ahead with shovels and dug through the deep drifts.  It was a very cold day.  We passed on through St. Leon, and reached Mr.Martin’s place where we spent the night.

Mr. Martin was a French Canadian, and was the only member of the family that could speak English.  He recognized me as the man who had called at the church for oats.  We reached C. Holland’s the next day and he kindly took us in for the night.

The next morning we began the most dreaded part of our journey through the Tiger Hills, for the distance through to the first house could not be made during the short period of Daylight.

Watkins and I made ready the team to the sleigh and Bill looked after our provisions and bedding.

Watkins and I went ahead as usual and shoveled and Bill followed with the team.  We gradually gained on the team for they had to stop frequently to rest, and when noontime came we were quite a distance ahead, so we stopped and built a fire to be ready for lunch when the team would come along.

When Bill came I went to get the provisions box, we made the terrible discovery that Bill had failed to put it on the sleigh at Holland’s.  We looked at each other, speechless, for we realized the serious predicament that we were in, for we were not then half way across the hills.

The horses were very much fatigued and we were extremely hungry from our strenuous exercise.  We realized there was not a moment to spare so Watkins and I set out at once, and Bill fed the team and came on later.  We both worked desperately with our shovels in order to make the road as easy as possible for the team.

This was the coldest day that we had experienced so far on the trip, being about 45 below.  We were now getting away from the shelter of the trees, and into more open country and were facing a bitter northwest wind.

When we came to the hill where the trail led down into the Boyne valley, we could see a valley toward the north west that led into it.  I had noticed this valley when coming from Emerson, but had hesitated to about taking it.  I explained to Watkins that I thought this valley would lead out to the plain somewhere near his place and he agreed with me, so we planned to that he would go and follow this valley out into the plain, and should he succeed in reaching his place, he would hang a lantern outdoors and fire off a gun occasionally to guide Bill and me.

Watkins started off at once and as I could not see the team coming, I went back to find the cause for delay and came on them about a mile back, coming along a few hundred feet at a time, and then would rest for a few minutes and then at it again.

The sleigh was plowing up the snow and it was so dry that the runners cut through it to the ground much of the time and made hard pulling for the team.  I had planned on my way back as to what I should do in case we should manage to get the team to the place where Watkins had left me, so I left Bill to urge the team on, and I took the axe back with me and procured a pole in a nearby bluff for a lever, and when Bill came we pried up the front bolster, and sleigh box and had the horses pull out the front bob.  We then placed the bags of bedding on it, and went on across the valley in the direction that Watkins had taken.  Darkness had set in, but it was a clear night and we could see the tracks made by Watkins where he would occasionally break through the crusty drifts.

The snow here was drifted into billows and packed hard, but it made hard travelling for the horses and finally they refused to pull the bob sleigh, so their harness was removed and the bags of clothing tied to the back of one horse, and Bill rode the other.

We now speeded up a little, and were getting out into the plain north of the hills and then we saw a light a couple of miles away, and heard the report of a gun, so we knew Watkins was safe and found his house.

My moccasin strings had become cut by the crusty snow, and I could not keep them on my feet, so I walked the last mile or so in my socks.  I had three pairs on and managed to get to the house without them being frozen.

We had trouble in getting the horses into the sod stable for it had settled so much since it was built.

Dave Evans had a good warm supper of pork and beans ready for us as we entered the house and we sat around the cook stove and ate from tin plates laid on the stove.

Dave Evans and W. Watkins had farms adjoining and batched together.  They had come from England during the past summer and winter had caught them unprepared for cold weather.

Their house was made with sod walls.  It had a peak roof and the pole rafters had boughs and twigs interwoven on them all ready for the thatch.  As we lay in bed we could view the stars through the holes.  It was useless to try to heat the house, for the heat given off by the stove could not be felt three feet from it.

The temperature the day we arrived was 48 below and the next day it was 52 below, so we decided it was too cold to go back and recover our sleigh.

We were anxious to get home for we felt we were consuming much of their food supply.  It was not so much a matter of cost of provisions but the cost of getting them from Portage that counted at that time.

On our second day at Watkins, Dave Evans and I went back with his ox team and brought our sleigh back, and the following day we reached home at noon, after having been fifteen days away.