M.  And I went to saanichton and took a Markers course so we are now qualified for a function we have done several times. Then a Costco trip and picked up a few plants on the way home. Got the truck and its load of pyracantha s to the place where it gets shredded. Glad to get that done. Planted the shrubs we bought. Got another royalty cheque fron lulu.com. God time with the Canadian dollar down a bit.

I figured that I would have to reach McKinnon’s that night in order to keep up my schedule, so they prepared a meal for me and I then started back the six miles towards the south trail.

It was dusk when I reached the trail, and I turned west for the twelve mile walk to Mr. McKinnon’s.  This south trail was the main trail leading to the Saskatchewan, and the west, and was well marked.  The trail along here was a series of ponds with a little land between, and sometimes after wading through one, I would have to look for the trail for it had changed direction in the water.  It was a good clear night, and ice was forming on the ponds.  After walking about six miles I crossed over a toll bridge, at a stopping place.  From here conditions on the trail changed and led into poplar woods with numerous bog holes, and I had to pick my steps among the trees on the side.  I began to hear the sound of rushing water in the distance ahead, and I began to wonder what new troubles were in store for me, and as I advanced the noise became louder.

I then emerged from the woods at the base of a hill, and turned to the right and soon came to a rushing stream of water across the road.  I thought I might be swept off my if I attempted to wade through so followed along up the hill side to where the water had cut several deep channels in the ice, and I found poles had been put across them, and I easily crossed over.  The trail was now on dry land, and had numerous ridges formed by cart wheels that had traveled along here for years past.

When I reached McKinnon’s it was midnight, and a traveler had just arrived with his team.  There was only one vacant room in the house so this traveler and I occupied it.  I was thoroughly chilled when I retired to bed for there was no fire on in the house and I spent a miserable night.

The place was known as “Seven Creek McKinnons” for the trail crossed sevencreeks on his land, and he had constructed a toll bridge on each one.

I met Mr. McKinnon in the early morning and gave him Mr. Hudson’s letter, and he agreed with what they had done, and that he would call a meeting of the voters and instruct them to give me their support.

I then started to walk to Portage a distance of about 35 miles and after walking about two miles, a man with a wagon and team overtook me and he offered to give me a ride if I would pay the bridge tolls, and this I gladly agreed to do.

This gave me quite a rest but I did not make much better time than if I had been walking.

My escort turned off the trail at Rat Creek. This left me nine miles to walk, and it became dark when I was about three miles from Portage.

The returning officer lived there, and he was to drive out with a horse and buggy to Tom Ring’s in order to take charge of the polling place there, so I was up early to go along with him.

He was also the deputy postmaster, and this being Sunday, I was enabled to get the mail for our settlement from him.

We reached Fortney’s shack about 2 p.m. and found that a Mr. McKenzie had bought out Fortney’s interests there.  He prepared a lunch for us, and told us the ice was breaking up, and that it would be impossible for us to cross.  We told him that the election could not be held unless we did, and that we would have to make an effort to do so.

We went to the river to investigate, and it certainly did look like a tough proposition.

There was a stretch of about 40 feet of open water between the shore and the solid ice.  We then returned to the shack and secured a new boat that he had just made, and took it to the river and launched it.  A rope was attached to it, so it could be pulled back.

I had a pole to paddle with, and the boat leaked so badly that it was about to sink when I reached the ice.  I then pulled it onto the ice and got the water out of it, and it was pulled back for my partner, and he crossed safely over.

All this time McKenzie was pleading with us to give up the attempt, for he said he did not want to see us drown before his eyes.

We then started across the ice feeling ahead with our poles so to avoid dropping into a hole, and when we reached the edge of the solid ice, we could see that we had the most difficult part of the crossing ahead of us.  It was over 100 feet to shore, and the water was filled with cakes of ice of all sizes, rushing along and crushing and grinding against each other.  Some cakes along the shore would strike a tree and slide up on them a little, turn over and make a great splash back into the water.