Sunday, November 22, 2009

Fort MacLeod [ctd]

Nov. 22nd. I was interrupted here & have not been able to write since. My birthday, Dear me how old I am getting 24 yesterday. My hair is not yet grey nor am I bald. Since I wrote last the trains are still out. There has been no news no letters. It has been storming again and snowing. We have moved our quarters from the Bell tent to two large square tents one pitched over the other for the sake of comfort we have much more room & the double canvass keeps out more of the wind & cold. The first night we moved in the wind was blowing a perfect hurricane & the tent flapped & creaked & strained & shook - & the wind whistled & shrieked about us coming in gusts that struck against the tent like solid substance. You can form some idea of the winds force by comparing it to the storm of last December – a little else violent but fearfull strong. I got not a wink of sleep – tho’ I was very sleepy. During the night the wind which was from the South West changed & clew from the North East and snow came with it. I had heard the next day that some of the men who had been removed to me of the trading posts about four miles away – were taken very bad so I set out in all the storm to make my way down to see them. I was in my black coat – the one I used to wear two or three winters ago – no vest a buffalo fur cap & moccasins. I ran all the way, the wind was on my left cheek and blew bitterly cold. The snow eddied and whirled about me blinding & obscuring objects within a hundred yards of me. a great cliff over 80 feet high I could not see until I was at its very foot and has begun to climb up it when finding it so steep I rolled down in a lull of the wind saw what it was. It was dark by the time I got back & tea was ready for which I was very thankful. The men were doing very well and tho’ very glad to see me yet in no great need of my attention. I have been down then twice since then but the wind was nothing only the cold was greater. The trader at the fort did not want me to come back that night he said he was afraid I would get lost or frozen but I persisted & feel proud in achieving a feat which old backwoodsmen did not dare & even Indians were sitting around their lodge fires. The men have all move into their quarters but our quarters are as yet unroofed and unmudded. I should not be surprised if we had to remain in tents all winter. This is not the earthly paradise it was represented to be[,] far from it. It is a howling wilderness & it remains to be seen whether civilization can do anything to turn it to a better country & make the wilderness blossom as the rose. I think this letter is getting too long so I will close it now and begin a new one. Remember me kindly to all – and Believe me to love you fondly if not more than ever. Goodbye – write soon.

Your own

Barrie