June 23rd

My thumb is now quite well, a little stiff but not sore unless pretty well struck. On the 19th Saturday we played one match – the first innings resulted in the officers having 4 runs to the good. A heavy storm coming up prevented the finishing of the 2nd innings.

The Kootanie Indians too came filing over the prairies – a long moving line all on horses. They camped down on the bottom – near the bridge. Not many came up during the evening, it probably being too wet. On Sunday at 9 o’clock the whole force went down to their camp – where a long lodge about 30 feet long had been erected and I which Father Scullen held service. The Kootanies you must know are all Roman Catholics. They come from the other side of the mountains – from British Columbia & are real British subjects. Only a portion of the tribe comes down every spring. The remainder stay at home to take care of their gardens – for in their way they are farmers.

The Romish missionaries have been busily at work with them and they are practically civilized. They have but one wife and are always married by the priest – their children are baptized. They have evening service every evening and never sit down to eat without first kneeling and giving thanks. They bear a character most exemplary for hospitality and honesty. Their language is the queerest and strangest conglomeration of deep guttural sounds – spoken in a very low whisper – so low that one can not help wondering how they manage to understand one another. To hear them talk you would think that they were fearful stutterers and were endeavoring to pronounce the words clerks click. At the service on Sunday they sang one or two hymns to a most mournful tune apparently under their breath.

On Monday we had a big powwow and talk with the Kootanies and North Peagans – feeding them & giving some presents – then we turned the force out and showed them some mounted drill – then fired several shell at a mark about a mile away. In the evening some rockets were sent up. In the evening I went down to their camp and held a sort of sick parade. I was kept busy for nearly three hours attending to them. They appeared very grateful.

Yesterday they gathered the remains of two Kootanies who had been killed here last Fall just before we came and Father Scullen buried them. I managed to get a sketch of their camp altho’ it is very rough not being able to hold my brush very well.
This morning all the Indians went away towards the plains – where they are going after buffalo. I am going up to the mountains tomorrow so for the next three or four days I will not write to you – but be sure I will always be thinking of you. I expect to be gone about four days – and see no reason why I should not have a really good time. To day I was the witness of a double marriage ceremony – two of the roustabouts were married to two half breed women. The ceremony was all right – except that neither bridegroom had remembered to bring a ring – two were borrowed for the purpose and afterwards returned to their owners.

And now for the present good night and believe me your own loving
Barrie

June 22nd

My thumb is pretty nearly all right again but still stiff – the swelling has gone down and I can bend it a little. My Eye didn’t it hurt for a day or two. I will wait until tomorrow to tell you all that has happened in the past two days.

June 21st

Thumb much better today but still sore – swollen very big – can’t press the weight of the pen against it – accounts for my bad writing.

June 20th

Congratulate Mr. R. for me if you can & wish Miss T. all the happiness she desires. My thumb is very sore - didn’t sleep a wink with it last night.

June 19th

This morning we are to have our cricket match, the conquering game with the subConstables. The day is very fine & I hope that we will be victorious. Well we did not get the win. But I must tell you that I hurt my thumb so that I can’t write very well. I managed to get it between the bat and the ball and mashed it a little.

June 18th

This is the anniversary of the battle of Waterloo 60 years ago. To day we were favoured by an Indian dance in the Barrack square. The North Peagans all bepainted and gaily caparisoned bore down upon the Fort and tying their horses outside – formed a ring in the middle of the square. They all had bows and arrows & there were 5 or 6 drums along. The drummers got in the middle of the ring & began to drum, the others keeping time & making a klick klick klick with their arrows against the bows. Two men lay down on the ground some distance from the circle & covered themselves with their buffalo robes. After playing a short prelude the ring began to throw stones etc. at the two recumbent figures, who after submitting to the treatment for a while, finally jumped up, threw off their robes and began dancing towards the ring, entered it and then giving a signal all suddenly rose up & throwing off their blankets began dancing – every one as naked as could be – their faces, arms, breasts and legs painted up – they divided into two bodies under the leadership of one of the two [?] ones. These two companies advanced and retreated alternately – finally with a yell they all rushed to their places and put on their blankets. This is the ‘Bear Dance’. And most certainly it was the most savage and wildest thing I have seen amongst the Indians. After their dance we gave them a smoke and a feed. They then repeated their dance and went away highly delighted.

June 17th

This morning was excessively sultry & warm. About two o’clock we i.e. Capt. Winder and I went down to Conrad’s to get him to go with us to this Peagan camp. We wanted to see the Big Medicine Pipe Dance so we went over provided with some flour and coffee & sugar, crossed the river in the boat & then walked along thro’ the bush towards the camp – but we had to cross a big slue or coulee with a swift deep current. A party of Indians came riding along on their little ponies – and we jumped up behind them & were ferried over. You would have been amazed to see us: all of us pretty long-legged fellows behind a painted savage & astride a diminutive little pony – under whose belly we could almost lock our feet - & gallantly they bore us thro’ the rushing flood. I had brought my colours with me and while Capt. Winder & Conrad went to pay their respects to the old chief I started off to take a sketch of the camp.

I sat myself down on a hill side looking West – and began to sketch – first one child came near me & then called another & another & then older men came & women until I had around me nearly the entire available strength of the camp. A stark naked little Indian boy was not two feet in front of me dancing with all his might & making medicine at me – set on by the older people around. It was most amusing to hear their exclamations and to see them recognizing the various points as they appeared on the paper. I finally had to come down in order to let the old chief get up his dance – no one would come to it while I was sketching.

Well the dance began – a big roll of skins tied up in a peculiar bundle was set in the middle of the wigwam & the old men & women sat around the wigwam - & the orchestra consisting of 9 drums. The old chief took a piece of lighted punk and put some aromatic substance afore it & set it down in front of this bundle – then in the most solemn manner and amidst a deep & impressive silence proceeded to divest himself of his shirt & to put on a new one. Then undoing the roll of skins- he after untying innumerable strings came upon 3 or 4 bundles made of red flannel – these he held over the smoke of the aromatic herb, then proceeded to untie them & after a long series of wrappings at last came to the stem of the Medicine Pipe. This is a long wooden stem polished & ornamented with a profusion of ermine skins being terminated by a tassel of brilliant red & yellow wool or dyed hair towards the lower end are suspended about a dozen eagle’s feathers dyed vermilion and blue – with a couple of small bells on each feather – there are also other feathers of bright colours in various parts of the stem. This was taken out to slow music by the band and the old chief danced around the lodge and then went outside and held it up towards the sun – then came back and a young man took it and did the same, then an old squaw, then a boy & finally a little child hardly able to walk danced with it. Then they took from the same receptacle another red bundle which proved to contain a whistle. This was danced around with & blown always upwards towards the sun – a huge rattle like a dried gourd was now produced and it was danced with. The drums all the while keeping up an incessant clatter & the shrill voices of the women now and again breaking in with their wild wailing chant. As a heavy storm was coming up we bade a hasty adieu and borrowed some horses to cross the coulee and went home – not without getting a thorough soaking however.

Fort McLeod, June 16th, '75

My darling Lizzie

Again I nearly had a fit of Les diables blues – but I fought them off. Was I not brave? Baker left this morning – the mail was sent down to him at three o’clock this morning. The day turned out pretty fine and we had some cricket. In consequence of the late heavy rains & warm rains – the river had risen pretty high. Our bridge is in danger of being carried away – the middle pier has been so washed out that it has sunk about a foot & a half. If the water rises no higher the bridge may remain steady.

A lot of Indians have been coming in, North Peagans - & the Kootanies are expected in. Father Scullen is waiting here until they come – after that he intends going up to the mountains. I intend trying to go with him – some half breeds are also going up with us – to fish. If I get away I expect to have a very pleasant time. I will also try and take some sketches of mountain scenery.

Fort McLeod, June 15th, 1875

My darling Lizzie,

I will go on answering a few thoughts in your letter of May 3rd etseq. before I tell you what has been going on to day. I left off about John coming to Canada – if he does get him acquainted with Frank Darling. I think they would like one another. So you are going to lose Saida. If you went home with her you would not lose her so quickly and so to the heat - & the climate. Athens is as healthy a place as you could find in Canada. During the summer the average temperature I could bet is less than that of Toronto. You know Athens is in a very hilly country near the southernmost spur of the Blue ridge mountains. The nights are nearly always cool and pleasant & people do not go gallivanting about the streets in the full glare of the hot sun. I wonder what subject you will take up to study. Suppose you try mathematics. Your Father would be delighted to help you in so far as Algebra was concerned. The late rains have caused the river to rise very high. The bridge that we took so much trouble to build – is in danger of being washed away, the middle pier has already sunk about a foot – the water comes with fearful force against it. The North Peagan Indians have been over the cut bank across the river all the morning – we expect the Kootanies in every day. I received the pleasant news to day that Baker is going in tomorrow to Benton and will take in a mail – so this goes off tonight. I do not know who wrote ‘Rain in the Heart’. Cissy Stotesbury could perhaps tell you – she sent the piece cut from a newspaper to Aunt Ellen in Savannah. I do not recollect if it had the author’s name attached or not. Of course it is written from that line of Longfellow’s ‘Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark & dreary’.

I certainly had a cold – but I was not afraid of any of my medicines – but I thought that it would get well of itself – which it did and saved me making some of my faces. Your last letter tho’ very dilapidated in appearance was all right on the inside – and none had fallen out. I cannot help drawing a conclusion from your letter. What is to become of me – if when you are happy you tease & when angry scold me? Dear me what a life to lead. Tell Jack that I have received some of the ‘Practictioners’ and also some numbers of the Canadian Monthly. I expect they have come from his thoughtful mind also and am sincerely thankful. The publication of my letters has been quite sufficient to break down a paper-mill – well how weighty they must have been. Indeed poor darling I do feel so sorry for your cold. I am glad you took some ‘hotstuff’ for it – you should have taken it after getting into bed and then piled the blankets over you. I should like to have dropped in upon you during the Spree.

I am glad to learn from the later pages of your letter that your cold succumbed so easily – although it no doubt caused you great annoyance & trouble at the time. So poor Mr. Crawford is dead. I see by the papers that Mr. Brown will not accept the Lt. Gov.ship but it has been conferred upon the Hon. D.A.M. McD. Will he be any more acceptable to you than the Hon. G.B. ? I have been endeavoring to write while an excessively voluble old Half-breed named Munroe about 80 years old with very gray hair and one eye whose lower lid is turned outwards red & glowering – he talks a mixture of French & English and uses all the gesticulations of the Indian. He is talking of the Native medicines. How he does rattle on. Were I not trying to write to you I should be pleased to hear & listen to him. I must close this now. I really can’t get rid of this old chief & cannot possibly write with him taking. I shall however before this goes write a little more.

Well I am glad to say that the old chap has gone. But it is getting very late and I must send this off. Give my love to all at home and with the best love of my heart from your own

Barrie

June 14th

Nothing in particular going on today. We expect the Kootanie[sic] Indians along with the Stonies[sic] in very soon. The river is rising very fast – hardly fordable now –

No dear I do not forget that the first party given in your house was in May nor that I was much more miserable then than I am now. So Cissy and Mr.Ford are engaged – I thought all along that something would come of it. Well Ford is a pretty decent fellow and as Cissy takes after her Father more than her other parent – she is a nice girl. I am much obliged to Mr. Fred McDougall for the welcome he intends to extend to [?]. In what capacity is he coming up here and in connection with what government - that of Manitobah [sic] or the Northwest Territory. If he goes to Pelly or Ga…[?] my chances of meeting him are very slim.

Whose was the Architects office? I do not think John would accept it for a permanency – he might merely for the sake of seeing Canada but he may consider it more to his purpose to remain at home taking what odd jobs he can get – until he turns something up for himself. If he does come I am sure you will be kind to him – for my sake.

Now good bye
Your own Barrie

June 13th

This morning sick parade was held at half past eight to allow Father Scullen to have Mass at 9 o’clock, and hardly was Mass over before the other churches had their parades. At Mass we had all the Half Breeds over – it was quite a sight to see all the women with their shawls of all hues drawn over their heads and their sparkling bright eyes – roving round the room – in spite of their devotional attitudes. After lunch I had three or four patients to attend to amongst the Half Breeds and then in the afternoon I went for a walk with Capt. Winder down to the bridge. While there we met a couple of men – one a half breed the other a white man – followed by two women half breeds, one about 25 years old in a pink dress and pink sun bonnet – carrying a baby strapped to a board – the other much younger about 15 – very freckled and short and stout in a chintz dress of a Dolly Varden pattern and a bright shawl drawn over her head. All on horseback and all [ ? ..ing] their horses [?] fashion. Our curiosity was roused. We proceeded to investigate the affair [?...ing] to find out who they were. Our diligence was rewarded for we discovered that they were from Whoop Up and had eloped to be married by Father Scullen. Think of that, a runaway match in the North West! Father Scullen married them this evening. I was very sorry that I could not see the ceremony but I did not.

This afternoon just before dinner we were visited by a very heavy thunderstorm which passed directly over our heads. My how it did rain – my room was again a mass of water but as I had taken the precaution of putting everything destroyable under cover I got nothing wet.

June 12th (July 12th 1875)

Dear me I never noticed until just now that I have dated this page one month ahead of time. However it does not matter a great deal at present. This morning we are to play our Return match with Subconstables. Our match began at 10 o’clock and we finished our Innings apiece by dinner time. We were ahead by 21 runs, making 42 to their 20. The second Innings they made 50, one man Uniacke [?] scoring 25. We then took the bat and all our wickets went down for 10. Thus we were defeated. I lay the cause of our defeat down to you. Yes, you need not exclaim and cry out “Me”. I mean you El.th Et.Bt. [?]. But possibly an explanation may be owing to you. In our second Innings while we were fielding a cavalcade was seen approaching over the hill. Of course we all became excited and spyglasses were brought into requisition by the spectators and they kept on calling out what they saw and of course we fielded badly and allowed them to make runs. Just as the match was finished Conrad drove up just from Benton and bringing a mail – and as I had a couple of letters from you I therefore lay the blame upon you. Yes letters have come again. I got two from you of the date May 3 and 10th. I also got one from Father dated May 20th telling of Saida’s safe arrival In Savannah. Also one from Aunt Ellen from Athens dated [?]. And one from Loulie from Burlington of May 15th and one from Harry Stotesbury [?] of May 10th. Also one or two papers for which please return my sincere thanks to Jack for the chess. O your dear letters – how I do love to receive them, so trustful, so loving, rambling, mixed up and badly written. But never mind. I won’t take this occasion for criticizing them or anything else. I spent the afternoon reading them and tomorrow will read them over again – and now Good night my darling and God’s blessing be upon you. Good night again.

June 11th (wrongly dated July 11th)

Yesterday there were two arrivals from Benton, but they brought no letters. Col. McLeod was in Benton awaiting the arrival of the boat on which he expected to find some of the Officers of the Force and some recruits. I believe also that a Custom’s officer and one or two others were expected. The Col. was only waiting for them to come [?] he left for Fort McLeod. I took a sketch yesterday of the half breed camp – and finished it today. I looks very much like it, but not so pretty as I expected it to be. Will you be kind enough to find out for me the lines in Tennyson’s Elaine beginning something like this

Self reliance Self love Self respect These three lead Life to sovereign power Yet not for Power alone Power of herself would come uncalled But because right is right more wisdom in the scorn [?] of consequence To follow right etc….

I know the words are not right – the thing has been bothering me for some days – I have tried to work it out but have failed.

June 10th

Eleven months today since I left my darling Lizzie. Eleven long months. Have they seemed as long to you as you thought they would? In all conscience, to me they have seemed to be long enough but I must confess that I thought eleven months would have been much longer to look back upon. Was I not happy a year ago – yet not altogether so for I knew not where I should begin to get my living and I was anxious. I had no license and there was some risk in attempting to practice in Ontario without it – as I had intended even in such an out of the way hole as Tullamore. Then came that man who wanted me to go up in the lumber district above Orillia to nurse small pox patients. Then came this offer which altho’ it took me far away from you – I gladly hailed as partially solving the problem of how I was to live. And I am not altogether sorry for having accepted it. I have seen a good deal, learned something and have some confidence in my own judgement. I am more selfreliant than I ever would have been at the T. G. Hospital – had I remained there for years. I have learned too that I can get along pretty well with most people, all of the officers and most of the men I think like me. Of course we have had our disputes and quarrels but with me they never kept up more than a day.

And another thing I have learned [?] your letters. That my Lizzie loves me truly – trusts me fully. Oh Lizzie do you know at times I used, like you, to be troubled with doubts and misgivings. But with my absence and your dear letters all my doubts have vanished and I know now that you really love me as I love you.

June 9th

We have had thunder storms all around us but now really near us – they seem to hug the mountains. To night I took my place at the end of the dinner table – it being my turn. No news of a mail or anything approaching it.

June 8th

Nothing whatever going on today. Our village is slowly progressing. The halfbreeds with their lodges render things more lively in appearance. Last night the men of ‘F’ Troop gave a dance to the halfbreeds – everyone seemed to enjoy themselves most heartily, dancing their reels and jigs, and old fiddler perched upon an elevated seated [ ? ] beat time with both feet and jerked head and arms about in a most remarkable manner. They kept the fun going until about midnight and Fort McLeod returned to its wonted state of repose.

June 7th

We are making a garden – the land has already been ploughed, and today it was harrowed and laid off into gardens for each Troop. It is rather late for a garden but we could not get at it no sooner.

Father Scullen came in quite unexpectedly about noon today – he is just beginning his yearly round and expects to be upon the prairie from now until next September visiting all the Indian camps.

June 6th

To day as usual church parade and after that I went for a short walk. After dinner Captain Winder, Brisebois, Jackson and myself had our horses saddled and went for a short ride. We went out on the prairie. Old Satan was looking well and feeling well – the evening was fine and we enjoyed our ride very much. I dare say when you have read my last letter that you will wonder what has become of the flower I said I had inclosed for you. I was having it pressed in a book in the Hospital – and kept your letter open over night in order to put in the flower in the morning – but I was called in such a hurry to send away my letters that I had to close it and send it away at once. I will send it to you in this whenever it goes.

Fort McLeod, June 5th, 1875

My dear Lizzie

This morning Glen started off in fine style with his four-in-hand team and his wife for Benton – taking with him letters etc. I always feel blue as a Mail is about leaving here – and to day was no exception to the rule.

We had a game of cricket. The Officers and non-commissioned Officers against the men. The men were in high feather and were certain of a great victory. I was captain of the Eleven, but feeling very cross. I was so put out by the refusal of three or four of the sergeants to play, that I said I would have nothing more to do with the match – an expression of ill temper that was amusing no doubt. Jackson then took the management and supplied the places of the disaffected – and the match proceeded. Strange to say – we were successful beating them in both innings.

Fort McLeod, June 4th, '75

My dear Lizzie

A mail is to go out from here tomorrow. How I would like to go with it. I am afraid that I am very blue tonight. I think I always get blue when a mail is about leaving – but I must not think of the blues just now – for you, by the time this reaches Toronto, may be thinking of Miss Annie Taylor’s wedding. Dear Liz, I wish it were you and I, that were about to be tied together for life – for more than life, for Eternity. Do you ever think of it? I do often and often. I consider that in very truth you and I are now so nearly and so closely united in heart and mind and soul, that tho’ our bodies should never be united, still our soul-binding would last thro’ time and Eternity. Even now separated as we are by vast tracts of wild desolate country – we are yet one – and should one of us be called away – the other would remain faithful and true until such time as Our Father saw fit to place us together again.

But my own darling, I am getting gloomy again. Forgive me – and let us talk of something else. Say anything you would like me to say to Annie Taylor on the 20th and I will become responsible for it. Why did she not choose the 21st of June, she would then have had a longer day?

Things around the Camp have been going on pretty much the same as ever. The arrival of a large camp of halfbreeds a day or two ago caused an influx of visitors to the Fort, but as they are camped across the river some seven miles away, and the river is rising daily we have not seen a great deal of them. A second smaller party came down to day. One among them called Munroe had been highly recommended as an Interpreter and was taken on the strength of the Force. I have not yet visited their camp – they live in wigwams – most of the men can talk English but I believe none of the women. I have only seen one of the latter and she was sick – a horrible abscess if nothing worse in the breast. I think it comes from a blow – and her husband I think is the one who struck the blow – I do not know – but I think he maltreats her – she had a black eye and several bruises on her as of a recent beating – but I asked nothing only observed, but if I find out any truth in my surmises I shall do my level best to get Mr. Alons (his name) into trouble.

And now my darling I must say good night, and for the present goodbye. I am quite well and have been. The only change is my smooth chin and fierce (?) moustache. Keep your spirits up Old Girl – our 20th of June will come round in good time and then - [ ? ]

With unalterable love I am
Ever your own
Barrie

I enclose you a little flower I found in a most lonely desolate spot all by itself – no other green thing within some distance of it. It was bright and doing well and apparently happy tho’ all alone like

Your
Barrie

June 2nd

The day before yesterday Denny and I started down the river – the sun was shining bright and a gentle breeze was blowing. But before we got many miles down the river storm clouds began to make their appearance and when about one o’clock we stopped for lunch it rained hard – we were pretty well protected by some brush but still we got very wet. We killed one goose and one duck and found several hawks’ nests two of which we robbed. We got down to Kipp at nine in the evening very wet, very cold and thoroughly tired out. We had great difficulty towards the latter end of the journey in making our way avoiding rocks and shoals – owing to the darkness. At one time I thought we had passed Fort Kipp. The whole of the next day it rained hard and we had to stay at Kipp. The day passed drearily enough – our horses came down for us but owing to the storm we thought it advisable to remain at Kipp the next.

Yesterday [ ? ] we started bright and early and arrived here about half past nine. I found my room in a most dilapidated state. My bedroom was all right except the dressing table which was covered with mud and water. In my sitting room and library, my table was one mass of mud and water. Some books and papers nearly ruined. Fortunately I had a lot of Nations [ ? ] over my books with the writing [ ? …several lines illegible ] effects of the wetting in these sheets.

All the other rooms were pretty nearly as bad – the Hospital on one side suffered but the tarpaulins saved it from much damage. There must have been more than an inch of water on my floor. Today we have had some nice little showers too but I had everything stowed away so nothing more got wet. I must now say good night and good bye again. Your own Barrie

May 31st

Denny and I start this morning.

May 30th

I seem determined to blot this thoroughly [inkmarks showing] – but never mind. It clouded up considerably today and we had some rain in the afternoon.

May 29th

This morning I had my sick parade at the usual time and then went about making preparations for the return match with ‘C’ Troop. About eleven o’clock Capt. Winder having won the toss sent us to the bat. We made 77 runs to which I added the small sum of 4. We beat them in both innings making 103 to their 36. And great was the rejoicing in consequence. It is blowing hard this evening and all things point to a storm and that soon.

Denny and I purpose early on Monday morning going down the river to get some shooting. We will not probably come back until Tuesday evening. I hope that we will have a pleasant and successful time. Good night to you.

May 28th

You do me a great injustice in supposing that I ever ill-treated any young Lady – and jolly Pop – Mitchell the very idea of her submitting to illtreatment even tho’ one dared to think of such a thing. I do remember meeting [ ? ] you with Willie McDougall and was foolish and unjust enough to draw some very bitter [ ? ] absurd and unjust conclusions therefrom.

I am very sorry that you have given up the idea of going South. I wanted so much that you should see my home and become known to Father and the rest. I think the plea of your health and the warm weather is only a pretext of your Father’s. To day I went out in the woods and made a sketch of the Porcupine Hills but I am not at all satisfied with it. After lunch I went and played cricket for a while then came in and looked over your old letters – reading portions of them now and again. By the by – how would you like to have portions of them published in some of the Montana papers. You know they would show off civilized life in Canada and might prove of some benefit to you hereafter !!

I consider the above a very sly dig in your side. But I don’t wish you to take it in earnest. Believe me my darling I am rather glad than otherwise that portions of my letters have been published.

May 27th

Your stories about [ …. ] comes [?] so directly that one is immediately impressed with their self evident truth. I have received Lammermoor “Potiphar Capers” and [ ? ] “Bleak House” is probably on the way. L’Avare came to hand some time ago with Saidas Proto [ ? ]. My poor unfortunate box. I do not know when I will ever see it. It will come rather expensive if they charge double freights upon it. I will write to Mr. Baker and ask him to pay any charges upon it that may be due – when it gets to Benton. To day we had a hail storm and thunderstorm and some rain.

May 26th

I am glad that you were in such good spirits. I hope that they have continued. So you have heard from Miss Taylor. I am very glad that there has been no rupture between you and Miss T. is to be married on the 20th of June, a little bit more than three weeks from now. You must tell her that I wish her all the happiness she deserves and expects. As for him he is not half good enough for her. I have no doubt that my letter in the Globe astonished you as much as it did myself. Don’t be surprised at seeing another there shortly. That letter in the Mail from the Ottawa paper, complaining so bitterly was written by a man on whom no reliance whatever can be placed, a man that would [gr…?] at everything everywhere, and always. That we did work hard, that we did suffer, that we had good cause for complaint – no one for an instant denies or attempts to do so. But it was necessary and unavoidable – and to the lasting credit of the men be it said that they worked most unflinchingly until the last – with the one exception of this man who wrote this letter.

Poor girl – do you get so awfully lonely at times – just think, it is now nearly eleven months since I left you, and I am only after hearing of your loneliness because it is just nine, by the time I get your letter of the 10th month it will perhaps be the 12th or more than the year.

So you enjoy Covernton’s visits. I am glad because Covernton is a fine fellow, and a thorough gentleman. He was very entertaining, was it because he talked a great deal of myself. He is a cute chap that same Covernton.

I must say good night to you here now, and only tell you that I received another letter from you today dated Ap. 26th. You were evidently in the Office when you directed it as the envelop has your Father’s Business card in the corner. Good night and God bless my darling now and forever.

May 25th

The wind has been blowing a perfect hurricane all day. I did not go up the river. I thought it would be useless trying to fish in such a wind. I attended to my duties in the Hospital and then came over to my room and was lying down reading diligently when I heard the bugle sound for ‘Orderly Sergeant’. I wondered what was up, and then hearing some running outside I got up and saw a crowd of men in the middle of the square. I rushed out and found that Glen had come in with a Mail.

I had three letters from your darling self, dated Ap. 5th/7th/9th, 3 from home, one from Covernton and one from Abbott – a variety of papers and some books. I must read them over again before I answer them. So for the present Good night.

Fort McLeod, May 24th, 1875

My dear Lizzie

To day opened clear calm and bright. Just the kind of a day for a cricket match, and exactly what one would wish the Queen’s birthday to be. By ten o’clock the wickets were pitched. I was Captain of the ‘F’ Troop Eleven and Winder of ‘C’ Troop. I won the choice of innings and sent them to the bat. Their side sent out for 27 runs – we then went in and our last wicket went down for 41 0 we then adjourned for dinner, and ‘C’ Troop going to the bat again made 33, a grand total of 60. ‘F’ Troop then put 39 runs. Your humble servant made a duck’s both innings. ‘F’ Troop was victorious however that was the great object of the day and all minor considerations should be overlooked in the presence of that great fact. A baseball match was then [ ? ] and I was solicited to play. We played against nine “citizens” and beat them badly. At first I was skeptical about 9 citizens being around the place but they appeared and were beaten.

A pony race was gotten up and run – but it was only for a short distance and only two ponies entered and did not create much excitement.

If all is well I intend tomorrow to go up the river fishing – to that end I have a horse kept in. It may interest you to know that I have at last given up my hirsute appendage – that is I have shaven my chin. They all tell me that I look very much younger.

May 23rd

To day is Sunday – Church parade as usual. I did not go this morning as I was very busy in the Hospital. After dinner this evening I went out for a short walk but the wind was blowing very hard and very cold, so I soon came home.

It is now about time that we should be getting another Mail. Every day will or ought to have one here. At all events it brings one nearer and how acceptable it will be you know well enough. I must finish this letter now and begin another one tomorrow. Tomorrow will be the Queen’s Birthday and a public holiday. I hope we will be successful in our cricket match. I believe there is some talk of a horse race too – as well as a baseball match. But now I must say good night and pleasant dreams.

I am your own

Barrie

May 22nd

I slept well and sound last night but wakened up about sun rise and from then until 9 o’clock I dozed and dreamed – I thought that you and I were taking a voyage down the Old Man’s River – we began way up in the mountains and came down running rapids, shooting immense waterfalls in hourly danger from the Indians, from wild beasts and from sunken rocks. Finally I got hurt and the boat drifted helplessly along until I gave the paddle to you and from thence all dangers and hardship seemed past – we joined the Belly River, then the Saskatchewan then Lake Winnipeg, our boat growing larger and larger – passing Lake Winnipeg – we came to Superior and down the chain of Lakes to the St. Lawrence and so to the Sea. I thought immense crowds came to the banks and shores to see us pass – wherever we stopped thousands of sick and lame came to be cured – and it was you that healed them and to you were vociferated the thanks and blessings of the thankful crowd. I was lying down in the boat and looking at you so pleased and happy at seeing them look to you for help, and I thought you did not know that it was I that healed them. At last we came to England, and I took my degrees there – still every one seemed to think it was you who took them. Finally I thought I died – and you who had tended me so kindly and carefully died too – we were not buried because we were alone on the broad ocean, but we took wings and flew to the land and lived together on a high and lonely mountain, and taking long flights from there we accomplished a vast deal of good in many ways. And then we both rose to heaven and I was refused admittance – but by your prayers they let me in – and having entered we were exalted high above the other angels. I never seemed now to think that I owed it all to you, but we were happy so “happy for ever and ever ------Was it not a queer dream?

Well to return to facts. Capt. Winder and I left here taking some lunch, at 7.30 a.m. The voyage down the river was delightful it was a warm bright sunshiny day – the trees lining the banks were all so beautiful and green. Quantities of ducks and geese started up from each side of us, but as we were obliged to be down at Fort Kipp as soon as possible and did not know within twenty miles how far it was we did not stop to hunt them. Some of the cut banks presented a most curious conformation in their strata – all in wavy lines – we saw some coal and a great deal of sandstone – in places the prairie 100 or 150 ft. above us had sunk down to the level of the river in huge land slips – the course of the river is very tortuous – in some places very swift rapids – but generally very free from rocks. We stopped at 11 o’clock in a nice little clump of bushes and had our lunch, it was a real picnic. Our lunch however consisted of nothing but some bread and cold bacon and a cup of the river water – we were quite used to both and very hungry too so it tasted very good. We stopped for about an hour, to rest and have a smoke and then proceeded down. A high wind had now sprung up and in some places bothered us by blowing us from one side of the river to the other. In one of the most dangerous places on the river where the channel was narrowed by huge rocks on either side and sunken ones in the middle and the current ran [ ? ] and foaming down like a mill race – the wind was so strong that blowing dead ahead us and we aided by the current and paddling with all our might remained stationary. Gradually we began to descend and at last got down into a sheltered nook and then the stream took us down like a flash. We arrived at Fort Kipp about 2 o’clock, found our horses not yet arrived – they came in about 3 and after feeding them grain and hay – we left at 5 o’clock and arrived at Fort McLeod at 6.30. I rode old Satan, who is now full of life and beginning to get fat he canters beautifully his trot is rather rough. He is a fine old chap. I am going to show him your photograph to see if he will remember all that I have told him.

I had sick parade at eight o’clock last evening after we came in, and then retired early being as you may well imagine very tired.

May 21st

I got back from my trip all safe and sound, and enjoyed myself immensely. I am very tired tonight and will only tell you that in order that you may not feel uneasy. So Good night darling and may your sleep tonight and every night be as sound as I hope mine will be.

May 20th

To day has been tolerably quiet. Major Walsh arrived from Whoop Up to see after his supplies and goes back again tomorrow. We had a fine game of cricket this afternoon. This time my side was victorious - by two runs. On the 24th a grand match is advertised between ‘E’ and ‘F’ Troops. Much interest is taken in the result of this match and it is expected that some fine play will be exhibited on both sides.

This evening while we were talking over various matters, I suggested that I would like to go down to Kipp in the boat so it fell out that Capt. Winder and I are to start in the morning by boat – have our horses sent down by road to Kipp and ride back. Jackson and Walsh were soon added to our party – and the quartet goes down in the two boats. It is wholly an aqua incognita – no one knows how far it is, nor how good or bad the river may be. I must say good night now.

May 19th

About nine o’clock this morning the wagons with our supplies began coming into the Fort and the work of unloading and checking off the goods began. It took nearly the entire day to unload. There were eleven large wagons closely packed. I received a box of medicine, which had been ordered last October. Do you not think that is very quick delivery. Nearly seven months. I began to think I had better order my medicines for next winter immediately.

May 18th

Brisebois came up from Fort Kipp today. He is to remain here until further orders. The cattle which came along with the train arrived here about 3 o’clock and the train itself about 4.30 P.M. It was quite an exciting scene to see the crossing of the coulee. The large heavy wagons are tied two together and 8 yoke of oxen generally draw them – but now they put on 16 yoke, 32 oxen all pulling and straining, all the drivers on horseback [s…?ing] along the sides of the long line of cattle – cracking their whips like pistols, swearing and shouting like demons. Then all is quiet as the wagons draw up on the opposite bank.

Fort McLeod, May 17th, 1875

My dearest Lizzie

After the Col. left yesterday afternoon we all felt rather lonesome, and spent most of the time speculating as to the various causes which may have called him away, also as to the date of his probable return. After dinner Capt. Winder who is now in command asked me to walk down with him to the river. So we went down and found that it had not risen any today – it has been rather chilly today so I suppose the snow upon the mountains was checked in its melting. Then we went to where the boats were moored and took a little row in them to try the rapids and then being impressed with the calm stillness of the scene we broke into song and the dreary lonely silence was broken by the voice of harmony, the gurgling of the rapid river forming a running accompaniment.

Today we have been engaged in planting some cotton wood trees in front of our quarters. If they live and take root they will form an useful and ornamental adjunct to our quarters.

Conrad’s second wagon came in from the train today and say [?] that it will be here tomorrow as it camped to night this side of the Belly River.

May 16th

Sunday – Whitsunday – what do you think happened last night? About three o’clock in the morning I was suddenly awakened by Allen’s voice and hearing Crozier speak to me. I was so astonished I hardly knew what to say. They brought some letters and papers, and a dispatch to Col. McLeod which orders him to report immediately to Benton. So he leaves this afternoon.

I got one letter from you and one from Saida. Yours is dated April 22nd and ends on Sunday and Saida’s is dated April 20th and encloses a photograph of hers which I think is very good. Poor girl did I seem abrupt in asking about those lines? I humbly beg pardon. Do you not see how they referred to what you thought you knew? Don’t you see that you are my ‘star’ and you are that ‘something afar’ from the narrow sphere of my lonely sorrow. Of course darling I was wishing for you and somehow those lines kept running in my head. I was puzzled as to the authorship, and wanted to know. And as I write what comes into my head – so I wrote that.

Alas my early rising fit did not last very long. Now and again I do get up early but not as a rule – it is so much more pleasant to lie in bed and think.

Here is a passage in your letter which I cannot understand. You are speaking of Mannie’s advice to [?] not to get anything for the house as he did not want Robertson to have the benefit of it. Then Jack’s meeting Mr. R. and your preparation to be overwhelmed with the honour of Mr. R’s visit – which ends the first sheet. The next sheet is numbered 3 and begins “He said that as far as he was concerned it would not make the slightest difference but he did not like to on the girl’s account”. Did you leave out one sheet? If not I cannot explain it. I have put Jack, Mannie and Mr. R. successively to represent the ‘He’s’. I have made each ‘He’ read ‘Mannie’, ‘Robertson’, ‘Mannie’, and Jack Robertson ‘Jack’ but still cannot explain it.

I am much obliged for the Christina Stories. I have not yet received them. Poor old girl with your headache. I wish I could cure it by mesmerism – from where I am – but would much rather be at hand personally. I hope it was only a touch and that you were free from it in a very short time.

I beg your pardon most humbly for mistaking your meaning. I have found sheet no 2 and now I suppose ‘He’ refers to Roper Crickmore and the ‘Girl’ is Saida. Oh my Eye.

I am going to send this off by Capt. Crozier who is going in to Benton with the Colonel. They will not be very long on the road and this letter will most probably reach you sooner than any other. The answer to your letter will also be the shortest answer you have had. I do not think that any mail has gone out so quickly after the receipt of letters from Home. I have not time to write any more. The Church parade this morning took up so much time and the Col. starts so soon that I must close at once in order to get this into his packet.

And so with much love to all at home

I am as ever

Your own Barrie

May 15th

Today has been very warm indeed. After lunch Col. McLeod and I started up the River fishing. We had a very pleasant time but caught only one fish. The wind arose and blew so hard that it was impossible to fish or do anything else. The mosquitoes too were beginning to be troublesome. The place is quite lonely without Walsh, Allen and Crozier, and when the Col. and Jackson leave we will be truly quiet.

May 14th

Last night was very dull and lonely. So many have gone away. Fortunately the Col. and Capt. Jackson did not go. Probably next week they will start. A wagon Conrad had sent out to bring in a few hundred pounds of flour – from the oxtrain arrived today – bringing flour, sugar and tea. They report the train about four days from here, so probably by Wednesday next we may begin to expect them here.

I noticed in the woods today some wild strawberries in blossom. The last two days have been very warm. As the sunlight glints through the trees they have really a decided green tinge. Denny went into the river for a bath yesterday but found it very cold. I do not think that I will try that for some time to come.

May 12th, 1875

My dear Lizzie

Glen got away early this morning taking the Mail with him. The morning passed very quickly and busily. Major Walsh starts today at one o’clock and of course there are many things to get ready.

Mr. McDougall came in today with his Red River carts loaded with robes and skins. There were 28 carts and 2 large wagons. He is on his way to Benton, taking his skins to Manitobah down the Missouri River as far as Bismarck, from there to Moorehead and Garry. Formerly the road was direct across the plains from Bow River to Garry but the dangers and constant watchfulness required rendered it unpleasant and unsafe. So they are now about to try this plan.

Mr. David [?] McD. the merchant and not the Missionary – took his wife along with him. She has not been well and he thinks the change will do her good. I did not see her face, it was hidden by a big sunbonnet.

B – Troop finally started about 2 P.M. They go so far as Fort Kipp this evening – and pass on tomorrow to Whoop Up – cross the St. Mary’s River and camp to await further orders and also to wait the arrival of provisions by Conrad’s train.

May 8th

This being Saturday there was no drill - so we spent the morning making another cricket bat and after lunch we adjourned to the prairie and had a grand game. A double cricket and a scratch [?] eleven. I am sorry to say that the side on which I was was badly beaten. My underhand bowling was more effective than the swift over[…?] of young Wilson. Before the game was finished a large herd of horses was seen coming over the hill and soon Major Walsh had arrived. The horses all looked in splendid condition and as far superior to the […] of the country as a thorough bred from a hackman’s horse.

A Mail was also brought. I was disappointed o not receiving a letter – there were two papers, one from you the Can. Ill. News containing the picture of the Lancer & Evening Guard parade. The other was a Globe with the chess from Jack. I did not see Old Satan – I looked for him amongst the horses, but as they were not driven into the Fort I must have passed him over in the crowd crossing the [ ? ]. Major Walsh tells me Satan has been quite sick all winter but has lately been picking up quite fast and looks very well. I will see the old fellow tomorrow.

I must close this now. It is just one sheet and a half. So Good Night and pleasant dreams.

With much love I am
Your own Barrie.

May 7th

About noon today we had the first thunder storm of the season. It came from the mountains in a North West direction, passing to the East. We only got the benefit of the Southern end of it. We had no rain with it but it hailed very hard – the ground in a few moments being whitened. Since Monday the men have been drilling – the setting up or Spring drill. Every morning the prairie is rendered lively by the moving figures and the loud words of command. We expect Major Walsh back with the horses every day.

May 6th

Today has been very fine – there was a very slight drizzle while we were playing cricket this afternoon, but it did not amount to much. Denny has been fishing. Capt. Winder and the Colonel also and a good many of the men, but no fish have been caught. The water is so muddy from the melting snow and many rapids that the fish refuse to bite. We have had some geese and ducks – which are very nice.

May 5th

Glen came in last evening. His horses had been stolen between Whoop Up and Kipp. I have but very little time tonight to write – nothing going on. We are vegetating. We have managed to play cricket with some very primitive homemade implements.

May 4th

Your letter is dated March 27th. I did not have time to read it through last night – the candle went out before I had finished and left me to go to bed in the dark as I had no other candle. Yes dear, I recollect going to St. Luke’s that night and also how proud and pleased your Father was at being able to carve again after his long rest [?].

I did not get letters on either the 26th 27th or 28th. You have evidently taken my permission for granted – in regard to my letters. I suppose it would do no good and only make you uncomfortable if I were to write and tell you not to do anything of the sort. However the letters are yours and you are at liberty to [do?] with them what you please. It may do good (if they print them) to me when I go South to practice to have a name made for me.

Poor little economical girl – will you tell me how much you managed to live on this year? However it is good practice. For you know you are to live with a poor poverty stricken sawbones – who will have to work hard to get enough to keep body & soul together.

I am much obliged to Miss Cameron and I appreciate her love. Will you give her mine? I am going to write to Mannie soon – but would rather have you give it – for putting it in your hand makes it seem as tho’ it were being given to you. Young Balty [?] must be a delectable kind of person. I should like to hear him sing – and see you playing his accomp. Kate Hard[..?]’s friend Mr. Gaston is he not a lawyer, a young man who has a large nose and brass glasses. If he does I think I know him – he is a decent chap.

How horribly untidy you must have looked and how absurdly awkward a position to be in – I don’t wonder at your laughing. I am really grateful to Mr. Langt[…?] and other friends for remembering me so kindly. Whatever you do is right ergo [?] I don’t seriously object (if you don’t) to your copying my letters to you. So don’t fret old girl.

How glad you must have been to have your Father with you at dinner and I can easily imagine how glad he must have been at the change. By the by what is the name of that eating house on Jordan Street. Your Father used sometimes to take his dinner there. I have been trying to tell some of the officers about the place and I cannot recollect the name. Phantom Pharaoh Parlor are the nearest I can come. I received some Can. Ill. News [Canadian Illustrated News]. I looked for you in the Ball at the Philharmonic, but failed to recognize you – where were you sitting.

I am glad that you have received my letter of Feb. 21st, I sent that as I thought by Glen – and in a day or two sent others. I suppose that you have received them ‘ere this. Mrs. Glen is the most civilized woman in this part of the North West Territories. Mr. David McDougall has his wife at Bow River but she is over a hundred miles from here. I have not seen her.

Yes I do some good – I do not make the poor Indians pay anything – and am called a fool by the other officers, but it seems a shame – I have made over fifty dollars from outsiders. So that is something to the fore. As the population becomes denser so I may hope to make more.

No one got so many letters as I did – in fact they are all jealous of me and every man that comes from Benton, they all say to him : have you letters for anyone else except the Doctor. Fort Shaw is in Montana Territory on Sun River – it is very nearly the same distance from us as Ft. Benton.

Your argument about Mannie’s concert is not very good. You get out of the gate post argument by saying or implying that he is conceited because he is a man and not a boy. Are all men conceited and are all boys exempt? I hope for your sake that Miss Taylor’s friendship has not cooled towards you – on account of foolish speeches – or on any other account.

Your photo was good. But there is something about it I do not exactly like – but it is as dear to me as tho’ it were a better picture.

Easter Ball ! I should think I did recollect it – and have you your old programme? If you have – just look at it and you will see some marks on it- some with names written over them.

May 3rd

Today has been very windy as was yesterday. I was engaged the greater part of the morning making out the average temperature for April, which I find to be + 43.09 degrees with a maximum + 78 degrees and minimum – 2 degrees. We have a hot bed started and some suds just coming up. In the afternoon I busied myself making frames and pasting paper over them which is to be oiled and serve as glass for a covering to let in the light excluding the cold and rain. After that I had a game of cricket, with stumps made of an old lodge pole, and india rubber ball covered with leather and a very primitive bat cut out of a piece of hard wood. If the cricket was not first class, the exercise was good.

After that I came in and read my anatomy and was reading away most diligently when the MAIL arrived. Martin from Fort Kipp brought it up. John Glen brought it to Whoop Up last night. I got one letter from you, some Globes Mails Nations & various papers from home – also a letter from Aunt Ellie from Savannah and a letter from Mannie. I will tell you about them tomorrow. I am too glad to have heard from you again. I don’t recollect the date of your letter and have only a confused joyous idea and feeling of satisfaction that you are well and are mine. I must say good night. I want to read your letter again before going to bed. Good night my darling.

May 2nd

Brooks went out for a walk today! Not far of course, but he sat out in the sun for a long time and came back with quite a healthful colour and flow in his face. A Mail is now expected every day. I wish it would come. I am getting anxious for letters. I wish you would gently hint to Mannie that I would like to hear from him – but I suppose the poor chap’s sickness made him feel anything but in the mood for writing.

The Indians have nearly all moved away, going North. They are also organizing war parties amongst themselves to protect their horses. But as they are afraid to go outside of their wigwams at night and during the day dare not venture beyond the limit of their camp I do not think their enemies will suffer much.

I wonder whom they will appoint to fill Dr. Workman’s place at the Asylum. Did you hear any reason for his resignation? I took a walk to day with Col McLeod down to the bridge and out on the prairie. We were talking of the mail and while talking I noticed a speck way out on the prairie coming on rather in the direction in which the expected mail would come. We watched it for some time – it then resolved itself into two – came nearer and we thought we could say with certainty that they were mounted men – then that one had a red coat – then we even fancied we could distinguish that one was a dark horse and the other a light one – nearer still our certainty was doubly sure. It was the Mail – nearer yet and the two became four – the new objects we could guess were dogs – nearer yet – and alas for our hopes – they were two men with dogs out for a Sunday stroll. We immediately retired to the Fort in disgust.

May 1st

Conrad his for several days been loading his huge wagons with robes – the proceeds of his winter’s trade. He has nearly six thousand robes and the immense wagons with robes piled up hay fashion, look colossal. This afternoon they moved out en route for Benton. I did not send any letters by them as they will of course travel very slow being heavily laden and being drawn by oxen.

I got my medicines today and feel more at home. Some of the bottles were unfortunately broken. But most of the things came safely. This is May Day, but not many flowers are out. I found out on the prairies a little grayish moss with a very pretty little white flower. I saved one bunch and am pressing it now to send to you. The first flowers of Spring.

April 30th

The last day of April. My medicines came up this evening and are at Conrad’s but as Conrad is not in I cannot get them this evening. I made out a second report of the Medical Department for Dr. Kittson. It was not quite so much trouble as the former one. However I was very glad when I had finished it.

I wonder what you are doing now. Should I not like to “drop in” for a few moments? Oh dear.

April 29th

It has been very cold to day, it has been snowing all the afternoon and evening. I took a walk down to Maxy’s to see about our mess accounts and found it pretty cold work. The thermometer this evening stood at 2 degrees below zero. I hear that my medicines have arrived at Whoop Up.

Fort McLeod April 28th, 1875

My dear Lizzie

Yesterday I had another chance of sending a letter to you and right glad I was to hear of the chance. I do not know how long it will take them to reach you but expect Jerry Potts, who took them will hurry along. He is gone to endeavour to find his horses that are stolen.

Yesterday evening we were all much astonished to see Fred Wachter – known as “Dutch Fred” walk into camp & give himself up to Justice. If you recollect he was the one who murdered “Castilian Joe” or Joseph Asana – up at Sheep Creek. He came down immediately after the occurrence to give himself up but was persuaded by some of his old Confederates not to do so. However he has now thought better of it and is quietly awaiting his trial.

April 26th

In a day or two I expect to have another chance of sending in letters. Several of the people round here are going to go in freighting robes – and will take letters. It is blowing up pretty cold, I should not be surprised at a big snow storm. We will have quite a settlement up here next winter. Mr. Power is talking of setting up a store here – in opposition to Conrad, and Mr. Kerler too intends doing the same. Kanonse [?] has bought Foley out and Foley intends building again. We also have a farmer who intends starting a ranch in the immediate vicinity of the Fort and Father Scullen [?] intends building a Church and Parsonage, as well as inducing a large number of halfbreeds to settle down here. So next winter we will have a gay young city. Cpt. Winder too is talking of bringing up his wife and children. Perhaps Col. McLeod will get married and who knows how many more. The more the merrier and also the greater chance for me to make something outside of my salary.

I suppose that Saida has left you ere this. Has she gone directly home? Or does she intend staying a while longer in the North? I wish that you could go home with her. Do try.

I want you to ask Mannie to find out for me the Properties Botanical & Physiological & Therapeutical indications of Oxo Crocia and Dragon’s Blood.

For the present I must say good night. I open the ball again to tell you to direct my letters to :

Fort McLeod, via Ft. Shaw, Montana Territory.

I find that by sending them to I.G.B. & Co. [I.G. Baker & Co.] they are delayed sometimes a week. Col. McLeod told me the direction I have just given you is the better one. All mail matter for us is at Windsor consigned in bags for Ft. McLeod – which I believe do not break bulk until they reach Fort Shaw and are then sent on to us. Whereas if they are directed to Baker – they go first to Ft. Shaw, thence to Benton and then back again to Shaw.

I also want you to send me or have Jack send me the “Daily Mail” in place of the weekly. Will you ask him? This mail starts out tomorrow morning early. So I will have to send you away with a very short letter. Give my love to all and to Saida if she still be there. Good night again.

With much love believe me

Yours forever

Barrie.

April 25th

The Col. is not back yet, we do not expect him for some days. The Indians however brought in a report that the Col. had come back to Fort Kipp. We had Church parade as usual today. This afternoon I took a walk down to the River, and watched the rapid water, and to my delight found some willows really beginning to put out their leaves, the first that I have seen. I found a cozy little place just over the river in a small clump of trees and bushes, that I am going to turn into a private retreat – and in the summer will have a nice quiet little place to take your dear letters and read them. I will make a seat there, just under a bush and imagine that you are in the bush. I will not make a second seat for you, for some one else might come and sit in it and I don’t want them to do that.

The Col. came in this evening about an hour after dinner. Crozier came in a little while before him. Poor Crozier has had the blues all winter long and added to that or rather in consequence thereof he has come home from this little trip thoroughly done out. The poor chap is quite sick, and so nervous and restless he can neither eat, sleep nor keep quiet. Nor will he do as I tell him. I am afraid that he is going in for a regular seize. It seems that the Col. asked for several Indians as guides to the Indians who had taken the horses and also to be able to identify the horses taken. Instead of doing as he told them – a war party of twenty came out on foot after him, and never caught up to him – told him too that the Indians had struck Northwards when they had come South and East. So the Col. finding it would be impossible to overtake them and also to identify the horses if overtaken concluded to come home again.

April 24th

Last night Jerry Potts, our interpreter, who owns quite a large number of horses and which have been grazing around the immediate vicinity of the Fort, suffered from the Indian depredators having 47 head stolen. He tracked them today for about 25 miles and found two which had been killed and had the arrows still sticking in them. They know from the arrows that they were Assineboines who had stolen the horses. And as they had made straight for the Border it is believed that it was the same party who had attacked John Healy, a trader on the Maria’s River and shut him up in his Fort for three days. The Indians being afraid to come into the corral of the Fort where his horses were – endeavoured to set fire to the place, but the logs being green would not burn. So after three days siege they retired. This man was entirely alone having sent his teams to Fort Benton and remaining with some horses in this Post on the Maria’s River. The Indians numbered 250.

Fort Macleod April 23rd ‘75

My darling Lizzie

Major Walsh and party left yesterday and took our letters with him. He expects to get into Sun River on Monday, remain there a week and come out again with all our horses. I told you of the fright about the Indians at Whoop Up did I not? There [sic] fright was not in vain – hardly had Major Walsh started when news was brought to the Col. That over 40 head of horses had been stolen from the “Blood” Indians in the vicinity of Whoop Up. An expedition was organized immediately consisting of 18, the Col., Capt. Crozier and Mr. Welch – taking 10 days’ provisions with them. And they left last evening, expecting to have to go to the Cypress Hills. We nearly had a fire also. The wind was very high, and a spark had lodged in the roofing of Cpt. Winder’s room and there been fanned by the breeze until it had made some headway. A few buckets of water however soon put it out. The assembly sounded and the men were marched at the double to form a continuous line to the river and buckets passed from one to another. We soon had water enough to fill every thing available. There was no damage done.

March 20th

I did not finish Jack's letter last night. I was interrupted by the advent of Welch & Crozier who insisted on my going into the Mess Room to play Casino, so I went + spent some time there. This morning tho' I got up decently early. I had some little things to do which kept me fully occupied until 9 o'clock, so I did not write to you this morning. At one o'clock today, the trial of the would be deserters took place. Evidence was taken sufficiently to hear that they were trying to desert and they were [?] and for some time. During the trial I took my sketch book and made a sketch of the grave of Parks[?] who died shortly after our arrival here. His friends had written out that they would like to see the place he was buried in. Then I sat down to a chess problem and worked at that until dinner time. After dinner I had a bath. You know this is "Aunt Elizabeth's" eight. How quickly time does fly. Easter is almost here, tomorrow will be Palm Sunday. Your birthday is somewhere about here. I have an idea that it is today. You know you never told me when it was. [?] it is I wish you many many happy[?] returns[?] of it, and hope that the next one I may be with you to spend the day. Oh darling how I do long to see you again. The intense yearning craving desire for you is at time almost unbearable. I can scarcely allow myself the luxury of thinking for it makes me wild and discredited and I might do something rash.

Now do you like this [?]? [?] [?] made from the "Graphine"(sic) into paper. I have run our of black ink and did not notice it until too late to get any more. I have your letter of the 7th Dec. in front of me. You poor silly child. The idea of your bothering about sending me anything. Don't you know that your letters are inexpressibly dear to me that nothing more could be wished for except, what do you think? Those [?] of Longfellow remind me of some I saw in [?] [?] chillingly, and which you remember I tried to find an anchor for. Do you think you can find out who wrote them?

The desire of the moth for the star. The night for the morrow. The hope for something afar. From the sphere of our sorrow.

I quote from memory but those are something like the words. I am so sorry to hear that your mother has been so unwell. I hope that long 'ere[?] this she has quite recovered her [?] health. I am afraid that Bridget will never make a fortune at Fortune-telling, although she seems to have been wisely obscure as to the time when I should put in my sudden appearance. Lizzie you know that I can never doubt you. If you find Mr. Hodder's[?] drives give you pleasure, by all means go with him and only think that I am too glad that you are having pleasure. You know too, better than I can tell you, that it matters little what people say + of course they will talk, so see for yourself and never think but what I am. Your own undoubting Barrie.

Mar. 19th

I wonder what you are doing now, it is just 8 o'clock. I suppose you have finished breakfast and are either sitting working or going down town. Glen will soon be going in to Benton as the snow will not now last long and he will have mild weather for his journey. 9.30p.m. Yes Glen sent word that he expects he expects to leave next Monday, so that will be a chance to send letters again. To day the deserters who were recaptured were to have been tried, but owing[?] to our not having the necessary evidence, the trial was postponed. Brisbois came up this evening from For Kipp, he is part of the evidence. I am writing to Jack + will say good night to you for the present in order to finish this letter. 11p.p. I must have the last word with you, so goodnight and sweet dreams.

Mar. 18th

Well, here I am again, the sun is streaming in my bedroom window in a delicious flood of light. The cold has at last succumbed to the warm South West + the snow is almost gone. Last night about 7.30[4.30?] the concert began, some of the songs were very good and [?], others are very amusing. Beatty (the man who deserves the [?] medal) was dressed as a darkey[?!?] + burnt [?,] his appearance frightened Mrs. Glen the halfbreed wife of John Glen, that she rushed shrieking from the room. The supper too was a success and tho' the graces did not [?] off the day passed well. 11.30 p.m. I must say goodnight.

Mar. 17th

The 17th of "Ould Ireland." Long may she wave. I got up this morning, and it was pretty cold, in fact we might say very cold. I suppose it thawed in Toronto[,] it usually does. I intend going put + trying a shot at the sun. Do not think darling from that expression that I have taken leave of my senses, I merely intend to say that I am going to try and take the sun's altitude to find the time. I must now go to breakfast. You will see by this that I did not get up very early.

I could not after all let the night pass without saying at least good night. The day passed very quietly, everyone wearing in their hat or button hole a sprig of green, plucked from the logs wherewith our houses are built, which have sprouted and thrown out innumerable little green branches. Good night.

Mar. 16th

This morning I went [?] my usual rounds and the sat down to read "Lorna"[.] I have nearly finished it and like it very much. I am going to begin a new era of my existence by getting up early in the mornings. This is not the first time in my life that I have made similar resolves, but I never had the the[sic] same inducements. I intend to write to you in the mornings[,] so if my letters begin to get more dull + stupid, you can account for it by my being half awake. So good night to you now.

March 15th Monday

It has been very cold all day the wind still coming from the North, towards evening it shifted towards the South East. The thermometer is now 12° below zero. The sentry's voice rings out clear & sharp ["]all's well["]. I have literally done nothing today, except attend to my regular duties and put a bottom to a box of which I am endeavouring to make a desk to keep my papers and letters in. I have finished "The Country Neighbourhood"[.] I like it but it seems unsatisfactory. I do not think it has the genuine[?] [?] about it. I had loaned all the books you sent me, so I borrowed "Lorna Doone" + read a portion of that. But now I must put down in my notebook the outlines of a case of hemorrhage I have on hand. So good night.

March 14. Monday.

The party leaving yesterday have not yet come back. The same way [']round, only I had your darling letters to read in the intervals. 9p.m. Jackson got back about four o'clock + reported that he had discovered no traces of the deserters, but had received a note from Allen to say that he was on their track. Allen came in about 6 bringing the 3 crestfallen men along. He had caught up with them about 24 miles up the river. One of them who had no pass showed fright, but was persuaded to come along quietly[,] the other two had passes granting[?] them leave to be absent for 8 days hunting. He had other evidence against themhowever + they were put into the guard room. The day was pretty cold + there is no doubt but what their apprehension + recapture was the very best thing that could have happened to them. Yours of the 25th Jan. is in front of me. I do not think that I would cry if the Force was disbanded at once, but I do not think it will be. It is indeed a very nice thing for Bob Gill[?] and I wish him well. If Jack wants to get rid of his indigestion the best thing he can do is to come out here and pay me a visit. Dear Lizzie, what horrible dreams you have[.] I do not know which part of your dream is the more hateful. In the first I could still look after you, be with you always, know all your thoughts, but in the second I shoul dhave to brave your scorn[,] your forgiveness[,] your coldness and perhaps your hate. But my own darling[,] you are deserting your old habit. Don't you know, have you not often told me, that dreams go by contraries? Poor dear Lizzie. I will take good of myself[?].

I have not read 'Bleak Houses", nor 'Lucia di Lammer-moor' [Lucia di Lammermoor](which I think is the name of the Opera) but anything in the shape of reading [?] will be most acceptable, and neither Dickens nor Scott can be read too frequently[?]. You silly creature to [?] so about my watch. Lizzie child, [d]on't you know how much, how entirely, I trust you? If anything ever should cast a shadow over our bright love, Darling, I shall point[?] the shadow to you and together we can drive it away, long before it gathers any substance. But I think we can prevent even the shadow, can we not? How did Mannie provoke you? By throwing his gloves at you, by asking about the leters in the mail? Poor girl. The time is not so very far distant but what I will be at hand to soothe + comfort you as much as I can dearest. Yes indeed, I do know a great deal better. So [?] people talk. I know you and I do not care for the, and would not give a snap of my finger for them and all their talk together. But, for present good night.

February (Oh my) March 13th 1875. Fort Macleod

My darling Lizzie

Yesterday Col. Macleod left, taking Denny + a servant, on their trip to Helena. It was snowing hard when they left and continued to do so all day, a bad lookout for such a journey as they have undertaken. We gave the Col. 3 cheers as he left the gateway of the Fort + the [?] [?] started off in fine style. As everyone who had been away for any time from our Fort always [?] them-selves as mighty pleased to get back again, none of us envied them greatly, although we should [?] a trip to the outskirts of civilization. Nothing in particular happened after they lef, so good night.

My thoughts were [?]on yesterday. I thought today was the 12th, so I will say good night just now. This morning I got up quite early, 8 o'clock, and felt fresh. Sick call sounded at 9, and I went over to the Hospital[.] the snow was 6 or 8 inches deep, it was still cloudy but the sun was endeavouring to pierce through the thick veil. I found quite a large number on the sick list, but I soon polished them off. I then had my breakfast. Venison cutlets, sauce au[?] Police Mountie, Hot coffee, Hotrolls, butter + then [?] + molasses, + then a pipe. The I went into my room and began arranging it, + having [?] everything to my satisfaction, sat down to read. I read the [?], no, The Country Neighbourhood, until lunchtime. I like the story, and yet I do not. It seems natural [?] overdrawn, perhaps I will like it better as I go on.

After lunch, I went to work and made a small easel to paint upon, and then went down and had a chat with Conrad. Then coming back went on reading. Soon I noticed a stir goin on outside and found an expidition going outor rather preparing to dress, more deserters, three men this time. Allen + Jackson have the command + will I expect catch them. At dinner our numbers were reduced to four[,] after dinner Crozier and I played cribbage against Winder + Welch + beat them, then we tried [?] + beat them at that too, then I read a few moments but was soon called away to see a sick man. He kept me busy awhile + now I come to have a talk with you. It is now 10 o'clock, you are most likely in bed and asleep. I always like to talk with you at this time, because it seems as tho' you are so much nearer than at any other time. No one is bothering you and perhaps you are dreaming of me now. And I almost feel your spirit's presence hovering near me. I have a letter of yours dated Feb. 4th, open in front of me, + I shall proceed to answer it. I am curious (just think of it) to know what there can be to make you proud of Saida, I always have been. Thank you again and again for your dear photograph[,] I am so pleased to get it. True the rose looks very sharp + the cuffs large, but I cannot afford to criticise it even for fun. So I take that little bit of chaff all back + [?] [?] any more. Do I remember the [?] (that is meant for an 'S') a z(this is not)[?] three years ago? Yes I recollect it perfectly and [?] I [?] to be so tried, in order that I might see you look sorry and make you sit close and talk to me. I did not feel hurt[?] at your answer. I expected nothing else there, but I found out what I wanted, old girl, even if it was dark. And now let me tell you good night.

March 11th

Conrad's horses came in yesterday, late in the afternoon and brought me one paper, The Nation. Of course I was proportionately disappointed for I fully expected to hear again from you. Col. MacLeod has determined [?] go in tomorrow to [?] on business. The business I think is to [?] out a [?] for furnishing [?] the Cypress Hills[.] a large quantity of flour and oats, to be determined next [?] [?], which looks as though somebody was going to their next [?]. I wrote yesterday to Harry Stotesburg & to [?], and also added some lines to a letter to my brother, so I was pretty well occupied, don't you think so? And now I must endeavour to answer you with [?] affection [?] which was the day Baker left here with the [?]

second made a mistake your letter was [?] the 1st of Feb. or the fifth? I am very glad that you had[?] the [?] [?] [?] of no discourse of mine[,] I shall be able to do better than that at least[.] Frank says it is in my own hand I have to be economical with my drawing people as I have only a very little. I suppose that you would not object to my getting into mischef with you as [?] [?] to dislike the idea without you. I really cannot tell you how many pipes I smoke every day. I [?] [?] and calcuate. If a pound of tobacco contains 16 ounces and each ounce 8 drachmas[?], + each smoke contains one drachma and a pound of tobacco lasts me one week[.] Then there will be 128 smokes through the week or about 18 pipes a day. Now[,] if I sleep 8 hours of the twentyfour and[?] am[?] [?] with work which prohibits smoking for four[?] more[?] [?] you will see [?] [?] [?] [?] [?] hours[?] left in [?] those 8 pipes, must come very nearly two pipes an hour. However I may observe here that a pound of tobacco lasts me considerably over a month, which will [?] the average down to a much lower figure. I seldom will smoke before breakfast + do not get breakfast at times until 10 o'clock so don't be frightened. Yes I am a very useful man. I will gaurentee to work at anything for you when you have found out what you want. I forgive[?] Frank, tell him so and heap coals of fire on his head. My watch is now going all night[,] keeps pretty good time[.] I keep it going by the sun [?] it back of [?] fast + on if too low that I had anything to be [?] about? + who the should [?] the blame? I [?] back in defiance You, you, you. Oh I meant to tell you that I have [?] my [?] of Surgeon dated July 6th, but have heard nothing of my increase of pay. You have [?] me you can read my crossed letters. You will now have an opportunity of doing so. It is blowing and storming to day at a great rate[,] one is not able to see more than a hundred yards. Col. Macleod goes in to [?] soon. [P]erhaps not tomorrow on account of the storm. I will add a line or two to this if he [?] [?] [?] than tomorrow. So for the present I will say goodbye. With love, I am your Barrie.

No time to add more. Many many thanks for your kind present and your photo. It goes 'round with me now everywhere. The [?] have informed “Col. MacLeod that [?] arrangements have been made for the provision[?] of the Force.

Your own, Barrie.

Fort Macloed March 10 1875

My Dear Lizzie,

Last Monday, i.e. March 8th I footed(?) a letter to you. It has not [?] gotten outside [?] [?] of the Fort. About 10 o'clock the same morning a band of horses were seen coming over the hill. [?] were daily [?] horses from Sun River. Baker [?] horses for [?] and with [?]. Mail was expected every day. Who was it? Indians? A huge[?] crowd soon collected in front of the fort. Glasses of [?] form were all leveled in the direction of the coming strangers. Conjecture was rife. Betting was high. The horses rapidly approaching, some of our men at work on a bridge about [?] quarter of a mile from the fort. [?] their work and ran promiscuously[?] towards the new comers. [?] hearts [?] high. Some [?] [?] Maj. Walsh. [?] decieved if our suspense culminated in the heart [?] fact that the horses were for us from Sun River. Was there any mail? The horses came nearer, nearer, within a speaking distance. [?] Cochrane in charge. The question shouted ouy to him Have you any Mail? The answer came back, no. Another disappointment to add to our long list of previous ones. However he told us that he had left our mail at Fort Kipp, which was coming along in a wagon. [? shouts of joy and exaltating. How many anxious eyes kept close watch upon the distant prairie horizon. How many wary hearts ached to hear from the loved ones at home, and now [?] high with hope. Finally the wagon came in sight. The crowd which had been distracted by the horses in a moment rushed [?] of the [?] anxious joyful turbulent. In half an hour the mail had come. 11.48am. Mar 8th 1875. A day to be marked [?] a [?] stoned in my calendar. I managed to get [?] to [?] room when the letters were being distributed and got my [?]. There were 3 large bags full, over 300lbs of mail [?]. I got letters from you. Those that were set to Dufferin + Garry and the [?] that was one began on the 8th of February just one month before I recieved it. [?] received a quantity of papers, mails, notorious[?] practitioners[?], [?], as wll as some [?] papers. How am I ever to be sufficiently thoughtful to your kind thoughtful [?] + Jack willingly taken trouble for me. I immediately sat down and found the last letter you wrote, found you were well + then read your letters in reverse order as regards dates then found some letters from home I sat there [?] afternoon reading your letters, and the evening found me still busy. I could not finish all that night. On Tuesday morning I began again and by lunch time had [?] I had 48 letters! I have managed to glance at the papers but have not looked into them [?]. [?] found in [?] [?] the [?] folks and today I am writing to you. I hardly know what is in your letters do not know if you have asked me many questions or not I am so taken up with the [?] idea of your doing well and that for the time being was all I cared for. I shall take your letters of one each day and [?] and answer your questions. There is another [?] [?] of letters Conrad expects teams out from Benton + [?] there will also come other + later letters. [?] never [?] but [?] [?]. I am happy [?]. I can look [???]. Besides the mail there is little or nothing to talk about. Brooks is far better and stronger than he has been [?]. He too received a letter from home and has written one in answer. His grandmother has been very ill but is now or when she wrote quite well. I have learned [?] [?] [?] + had the [?] [?] with it. I shall proceed to answer your letter of the 8th [?]. Your letters friends to me? friends, no, not friends but something [?] closer than any friend, they are part of myself or they are reflections of your own pure warm heart and are dearer than any friend. I have not been taking my Sunday evening walk very regularly and my mind goes back to the 8th of february with [?] - I do not think i did- on Tuesday morning I was quite well thank you but [?] if it was not 11 when you were writing it could not have been quite [?] and most probably I was just getting up. The sick call is at nine and I have to bein the Hospital then. What [?] were you [?], it was evidently in the opera house, but on what occasion, [?] you have [?] [?] in one of our friends letters, and I did not notice it. I am glad you enjoyed it so Mrs. [?] was [?]. Poor thing! I hope she managed to get warm before the evening was over. My dear child I am exceedingly sorry that the thought of me should interfere in any way with your [?]. [?] not for [?] [?] [?] that I ever doubt any thing you do. [?] a fall and not [?] because you think I would find cause for doubt! Child you should not do that. [?] [?] [?] you dance and enjoy yourself as much as possible. Don't you be so [?] again. I would never forgive myself if I thought I prevented your dancing.

Capt. [?] received his discharge from the force. [?] is also [?] reported here/the report comes from Winnipeg that he's now Lord [?] and has an enourmous fortune. I hope for his wife's sake it [?] [?] [?]. I have not received the paper with the sketch of the ball. Perhaps it may be coming along in Conrad's [?]. From all the talk of fish I suppose you must have founded an aquarium in your conservatory, but how you manage to get catfish into it I do not understand. I am sorry to hear that Bessie(?) Cameron is sick. I hope [?] then that she was quite [?]. Poor Mannie, I sincerely hope that the abcess in his head will proove nothing serious. I really cannot[?] see the [?]in his [?] Dr.Cameron on the [?] [?], if he had it slang[?] [?] his [?] or [?] in his back or even fancied on his hat, one might say there was some concern, but where else would you have him put it? I am [?] of your way of thinking about Miss [?] Taylor, but I do not know for what reason. I am quite prepared to think [?] + everything [?] bad of Mr.[?] but if any one asked me why, I should feel exceedingly puzzled to give a satisfactory answer. I think [?] I have answered [?] [?], no question has been before unanswered, and for the present I must leave you. The mail closes tonight and I have one or two official letters to send and wish to write to Harry [?] [?] and another letter home. Give my love to all at home. Tell Jack I will write to him by the next opportunity. I find that I am greatly in his debt. Wish ever so much love.

I am your own Barrie.

Mar. 8th

It is a lovely morning. The sun shines bright and warm + the wind blows fresh from the mountains. I have gotten up early this morning to finish this letter to you. The Mail closes to day at 9 o’clock Glen expects to be in Benton in ten days, he goes by the upper road so [?] to [?][?] every night. The fresh [?] this morning was the advert[?] of half a dozen Indians with [?][?]. One a woman with a terrible hand her constitution[?] all broken[?] down, and suffering dreadfully. I washed the hand + examined it but am still in doubt. I may yet have to amputate it, the others were [?] ailments and easily dealt with. So you see I am becoming a successful practitioner amongst the [?] savages. And I think too they all like me for I am gentle + thoughtful of their feelings[?] just as tho’ they were white civilized people. And they, I think, appreciate kindness as much as any one. When I go to their[?] [?] today[?] they gave me a smoke always and talk and laugh away in the happiness [?]. And any[?] little thing[?] they want[?] done they come to me to get it[?] done for these. I have the same old story. No Mail. No one knows what is the reason[?] but [?][?] conjectures are afloat which becomes more and more varied[?] as each day passes without [?] its arrival. I must now say Good bye Give my love to all at home. Remember me kindly to Mr. Allison[?] + [?]. Tell Mannie I wrote to him by the last Mail but one. When[?] does your birthday come, some day this month. I wish you many many happy returns of[?] it[?]. [?]. With much love, I am

Your own

Barrie

Mar. 7th

The party did not return until after dinner this evening + are pretty well tired out, and of course unsuccessful. Meanwhile, we at the Fort had not been idle, during the night an Indian dance [?] [?][?] the hearth of one of the braves and cutting a hot[?] [?] their wigwam[s?]. He watches his wife and [?] his [?] close to his head[?]. there was no one in the wigwam at the time but Indians + they were[?] afraid to [?] out for fear they should get shot, etx, [?] [?] [?] escaped. The police or what was left of them [?] after him, + sooner or later will get him. I was told by Col. MacLeod to go and inspect the body of the unfortunate[?] squaw, but they had already buried her and I did not think it worthwhile to go and disturb her. Poor thing. I do not think she was much to blame that [?][?] upon her husband who was always[?][?][?] her to [?][?] at the dances, in order that he might [?] the blankets etc which they gave her, and then he had [?] her [?] away with him, his ill gotten [?][?] her [?] her with a miserable [?], + then came back + shot her. After all this[?] is a pretty wild[?] country. And now I must say Good night.

Mar 6th

There is one piece of good news to tell you and that is that a Mail is to leave here for Benton next Monday. The bearer of this mail is none other that the illustrious John Glen[?] mentioned in ‘From Ocean to Ocean’ as the “typical man”. He is or will not be alone this time, he has brought his wife with him, a pretty little Cree Halfbreed from Fort Edmonton. He is not prospecting now for gold digging, but is back[?] from accumulating the filthy [?] by selling vegetables, butter etc to any who will buy. So you will I hope, before very long get another letter from me. We cannot tell if the letters sent by Baker ever reached Benton, perhaps he was killed on the prairies and the letters [?] scattered to the wind storms. Not a soul has been out here from Benton since our last Mail arrived. It has been blowing hard all day and the wind now is howling outside [?] beating against the house whistling through the many cracks + crevices of our humble homes + [?] mimic [?] of dust upon the floor. Everything in the room after being [?] [?]for two or three minutes becomes grey with dust. The lamps flicker + tremble with a [?] [?] lighten and the mud[?] drops at frequent intervals with a [?] [?] [?] upon the floor. Happy are we if it misses our heads. While I was sitting here quietly writing 8 or 10 men have taken it into their heads to desert. A party is just starting out in pursuit. But my opinion is that they might just as well stay at home. It is very problematical if they catch them, still more problematical if then they can force them back and extremely doubtful what we can do with them when they are brought back. They have been lured away by the tales of the traders about us, of golden visions of high [?] in [?] of the gold diggings. + a general feeling of dissatisfaction with their position[?] pay and work here. I near expect to see them here again. However I must now say Good night it is very late.

Mar. 5th

Nothing going on to day. I made out a table of the temperatures for February. It was above zero most of the time. Welch is going away for a week on leave, he starts tomorrow. I think he does not intend to go far, but merely wishes to break the weary monotony of Barrack life. I went up this afternoon to the Indian Camp to see the sick woman. She was ever so much better. I took a sketch of an [?] of a wigwam not very good but something like [?] the old cry No Mail. Surely something must have happened to the man.

Mar. 4th

The trial of the whiskey trader came off this morning. It was distinctly proven that he was trading the article + he was fined 200°° + 3 months imprisonment. I also gave evidence touching the death the death of Spanish[?] Joe. I made, I suppose, the first Post Mortem Examination in these parts. The murder took place during a drunken brawl, + was committed by a man who has the reputation of being the most tenderhearted man in the world. He is also the one we were trying to catch for trading whiskey, but in our present[?] crippled and disabled condition without horses, we could not follow him. Denny came home this afternoon from his mountain trip, he had a very hard time indeed, without blankets. It stormed nearly the whole time he was away + he did not get a shot or even see any game. He had to stay for two days and two nights in an Indian Camp, feeding and sleeping with them. He describes them as being very hospitable freely and gladly giving him of their best, but says they are filthy and that he never wishes to live with them. The same cry of No Mail, we still hope, but in a more saddened manner. I had several Indians as patients to day, one a poor squaw with inflammation of the lungs. I also took a sketch of a buck who came into my room. I must now say Good night.

March 3rd

It is pleasant + warm, the air is as balmy as the spicy breezes[?]. I was busy all the morning working at the thermometrical observations for the month of February. We have confined another whiskey trader he is a half breed named Alex Gardy[?], his trial comes off sometime this week. This afternoon we had a fine game of base ball, the ball being made by a member of the force + the bats, pieces of green wood, we[?] enjoyed ourselves very much. No Mail yet. Is it not tiresome? Oh Dear…

Mar.2

Brooks has had another bad turn and for a couple of days has been pretty bad, but I am glad to say is now doing better. Last night we had our monthly Mess Meeting. I was again forced to continue as secretary. The accounts required looking over and so were postponed[?] until tonight + then accepted + approved. No Mail has yet come in. Two[?] wagons from High River came in this morning, with the news of a murder + brought the body of the murdered man, struck in the head with a bar of iron + died after 3 or 4 days of suffering. The murderer is not to be found. Another whiskey trader has also been routed out of the place[?] + his stock seized so we are doing some good. It is late and I must say Good night.

Feb-March 1st

I forgot that this is a Spring month. It was quite still and bright this morning, but before 12 a high West Wind had set in, and it is now the usual monthly Muster Parade. Then we had breakfast and then the Hospital. This afternoon a tremendous excitement was created by the sight of a large troop of horses and a wagon coming over the hill. All thought it was Baker or Major Walsh with a Mail, but all were doomed to disappointment. It was a lot of Indians loaded with robes and a wagon belonging to our guide Jerry Potts. How [?] we all felt, for we were almost certain that it was a Mail. I entertained nearly the whole afternoon a select[?] party of Indians I was learning a few words from them and training my ears to the sound of their talk. My hospitality only cost me a few pipes of tobacco, for wonderful to tell, they asked for nothing else.

Feb. 28th Sunday -

It is bright and warm to day. It seems as tho’ spring was really beginning to think[?] of coming back to us. This morning after church parade I went down to Conrad’s and had a chat with him. I had intended going to the Indian Camp again to day but did not manage to get my courage up. I could not help feeling that a Mail might arrive while I was away. However none came alltho’ I was in Camp the whole time. We were of course on the lookout the whole day. The evening passed slowly as all evenings do.

Feb. 27th

I again went up to the Blackfoot Camp this time with Welch alone. I intended making a sketch of the camp, but the wind was too cold + numbed my fingers. Crowfoot had quite recovered and was rejoicing accordingly. I promised to operate on the eyes of one of his sons[?]/ I [?] making an artificial pupil, when I can get some instruments. No Mail, oh my.

Feb 26th

This morning shortly after breakfast, I took Welch and Jerry Potts, our interpreter[?] and went up to the Blackfoot Camp to see their Chief Crowfoot, who was quite sick. I gave him some medicine, and then assisted[?] Jerry in endeavoring to persuade a runaway squaw to come back to her husband. We succeeded. Since our arrival the squaws have struck[?], refusing to work and the husbands are in a quandary, if they follow their usual plan they would kill or mutilate the women, + thus keep them in order, but the women would now report this to the Commissioner, + the place would be rather hot[?] for the husbands. It is too bad. Again the day has passed and no Mail. Good night.

Feb 25th

Last night after going to bed, I tossed from side to side all night long what sleep I got was disturbed by frightful dreams, and I wakened this morning with a feeling of utter unrest, + disinclination- to do think or say anything. I did manage to attend sick parade, but that was all – ate nothing day long, but sat moping around. I thought it was the blues, but think now I must have taken cold. I am all right again this evening and am presently going to have some supper. It has been a cold dismal day storming all the time old Crowfoot says this is the last storm of the winter after this has gone, the birds will be coming out + Spring will be here. I hope so sincerely. I heard that my last letter to you has not yet gotten farther than Whoop Up, 25 miles. Quick traveling[?] is it not. That is the way things go in this country. Of course no Mail has come in yet.