Fort MacLeod Dec. 29th 1874

My dearest Lizzie

I am now writing in the Mess Room. Denny is lying down upon one of the benches trying to take a snooze – he is on duty to day as Orderly Officer & his duties do not end until after 12 tonight when he has to visit the guard – so he is lying down and I am to wake him when I go out or when it is 12 o’clock. I am not in the best temper in the world – I have just been beaten in two games of chess – and I feel angry at myself for allowing such a trivial affair to vex me as much as it does. And I have come to you to be comforted & petted into a better humor – I hope dearest it will even be so – and that I will never come to vent my illfeeling upon you. Such an act always appears so cowardly to me – that I do not think I could even do it – not that I am a very brave man – but it is so small + mean + I do not think I am either small or mean in my ways. What are you doing to night? Do you remember this night a year ago? I think I was in London – and if I am not mistaken – we had a dance at the Fergusson’s – perhaps tho’ I have gotten things mixed a little. I do not remember exactly and have not my note book at hand to refer to. I recollect Xmas day carving a lot of Turkeys at the hospital and then coming down and carving some more at your house + it seems to me that the Cameron’s had me to dinner then too Did they or did they not? Last Evening after I had given your letter to “Foy” (that is the name of the man going into Benton) I came back + the Mess Room, Conrad was there and after a little talk, he went away and took the Col. with him – we young chaps are left in the Room and began dancing jumping kicking + various other performances. Calculated to enliven our minds + improve our muscles. The carpet on our Mess Room floor is one warranted to stand any amount of ill or rough usage being as the latest authorities state at least one mile in thickness. After that we went to bed. To day I, after visiting the Hospital , had breakfast, + then endeavoured to get a team to bring Brooks up from Kanouse’s, but they were all engaged in the morning, and I did not want to bring him up in the afternoon, thought it too cold. I also got from Quartermaster’s Stores some heavy canvass to make mattresses of, but could not get the tailors to sew this bag together. This occupied me most of the morning. The remainder I spent endeavouring to solve some of the Chess problems Jack was so kind as to send to me. I succeeded in solving one or two – of one I had the greatest satisfaction of knowing it to be correct as I happened to have the answer at hand – the others are solutions but whether Correct or not I cannot say. Then came lunch and after lunch I had my hair cut, and the rest of the short afternoon I had some medicine. After dinner Ferland my Hospital Seagt. came over to my room and I read with him for a while, then came in + played a couple of games of Chess with Denny in both of which he beat me, he is now three games ahead of me, and then I came to you to comfort me. Oh, Liz, my own precious darling what would I not give to have you by my side, and feel your soft hand stroking me gently, or playfully slapping the wolf from my back. You can’t think how lonely I feel sometimes, so utterly helplessly alone, how I long for some one who once knew something of the things that used to interest me or of the people I was associated with. At times the feeling is so strong over me that I am in utter misery, but you even when so far away have still the supreme power of chasing away all such gloomy or wretched feelings. If I cannot write to you and feel you talking to me just at the moment, I can think of you, no one can prevent my doing that + no duty however arduous or in need of my closest attention can sever my thoughts from you or prevent them from wandering back to you. And do you want to know about y comrades + fellow officers? Who shall I begin with? Denny? He is now sleeping on the hard wooden bench. He is to begin with an Englishman + Son of an English Clergyman, Dean Denny (I believe) and according to his own story has spent a good deal of money there trying to farm, he is going on 23 and fine looking, with quite a handsome face + is quiet and gentlemanly in his deportment, and altogether is a very nice fellow, he might be called a little strange at times, but I suppose, he like others gets a fit of the blues at times. He is very generous to me and as far as I can learn to all others, the Officers, at least some of them teaze him a good deal about his American experience and he is given to drawing the long bow at times. But he is very consistent and sticks well to a story, not matter how improbable it might appear – Good night now my dear it is 12 o’clock and I must go.

Fort MacLeod, Dec. 18th 1874

Now for one of those grand Diary Letters! Do you not feel very much frightened at being the repository of secrets which weigh down to the ground the mighty medicine man of the Palefaces? If you do not – then all I can say is that you do not show a proper respect for the aforesaid man of Power – (& Pills). I feel very happy my darling – happier and more contented than I have for many a long long weary day. Your dear letters have infused new life into me. the fond assurance that you are well in spite of little slips of a sore lip of a cold & a feeling of weakness & tiredness on the slightest exertion fills me with Joy. How have I not imagined you – in all possible ills that human flesh is heir to – having in the wild delirium of fever or knowing in dire pain – and calling on me to help you and I far away & ignorant of it all and even if I knew of it utterly powerless to aid you and unable to come to you. Many a night I have lain awake torturing myself with these painful reflections. But now they give place to a happier train of thought I know my little girl is taking care of herself if not for my sake then for her own and is enjoying herself too. I am so thankful dear, that you have so many kind friends who are able to comfort my darling & distract her thoughts from one gloomy subject like myself – knowing as I do that the distraction is only from the gloomy side of the picture & that pleasant scenes & pleasant friends tried to engender pleasant thoughts, even in one of a melancholy somber turn of mind – how much more then in my own little girl. Last evening I read over all your letters – the first time I only glanced over them looking for the latest news of yourself – last night however I only labeled the envelopes with dates & read them in chronological order. I forgot to tell you that yesterday noon I received another batch of letters – from you written in November from St. Kitts – and one from Ted Covernton. I can only give you nothing for your Tinytype. I am so wholly yours I have nothing left to give you – but my and that will never fail, it is like the old fairy tale of the jug of milk the more they used the more there was to use or little the Widow’s cruse of oil – never failing. Your tobacco pouch needs no apologies & what care I for severe judges on the prairie or elsewhere? did they make the pouch? Could money purchase [ ] one? No--- what then do you mean by making excuses for it, it needs none. At the same time I have no strong objections to supervise the manufacture of the next. I had to stop here for dinner was just being put on the ‘table’ (which is a large packing case raised from the ground on a 10 gallon alcohol case) and consequently I had to decamp after dinner I went down to see my sick man being offered a seat in the sumptuous conveyance I gladly accepted the offer & drove down on a hay rack – four in hand team trotting across the frozen country – no springs. I digested my dinner well. I found my patient ever so much better & a good sign was that he was asking for something to eat. He will I think recover from this attack but I cannot say so much of the next. I had borrowed a rifle from Denny one of the officers - & walked towards camp through the bush on the opposite side of the river – thinking to see some prairie chicken or hares – but I was not fortunate and came in feeling nicely tired & hungry as a wolf. It was now too dark to do anything inside the room so I went over to the hospital and found some putty & began puttying the panes of glass in my window. I continued to do this until it was too dark even for that & then the bugle sounded – for the guard to fall in – and I watched the adjutant inspect it – and the officer of the day march it off & relieve the old guard. It was now tea time – and I fell to with a will. Then taking off my boots & putting on my slippers – do you recollect making them for me? the black ones with the bunch of flowers & my smoking cap – do you remember that? The philosopher. Did you object so much to being caught in a philopoena as you do to losing a bit? Then filling my pipe I lit it of course & began reading the ‘mails’ Jack sent me. then tossing these aside I talk to my own little dear & first of all let me crave your pardon for not having before given you a real diary letter. My reason was the absurd scarcity of paper. You could not get any there was none in the country – but now I have received my stationery (a or e?) I will be very culpable indeed if I do not fulfil my promise. I want to speak about some little things in your letters. I am very much obliged to Miss Louisa Chisholm for making you take so much outdoor exercise – it is good for you. If she would only make you go to bed earlier it would be better still. The idea of trotting about all day and then sitting up to such unconscionable hours – half past one! Why did you not sit up all night? Don’t do it anymore Liz – even to write to me. Poor Frank – I had heard nothing about his illness. His brains were afflicted than his spine. Then he had some reason in what he said about his head going to sleep. Poor fellow. How they used to teaze him about that speech at the Cameron’s. I am so glad he is getting better. Tell him that I wrote to him - & if I had known of his weak state Especially the brain – I would have written a very simple letter – with no word of more than one syllable. I am really very sorry for him – but I feel so happy in hearing from you & also in the knowledge that he is now out of danger that I may be excused from Joking at him.

I am very glad old woman that you have come to like Ned Armour – he is a really good kind hearted Christian thoroughly earnest & as warm hearted as he is undemonstrative. Ned and I were always good friends – especially when by his laziness & being led away by Ned Burke he lost the scholarship at Trinity – since then each year has only cemented our friendship more closely. I am glad now that I am not at Edmonton. Very glad, indeed. Then the only chance of a mail would have been the H.B.Co.’s Wireless Packet & they would not have been able to bring all the mail matter for us. My old horse is picking rapidly & getting quite strong – when I left him to go to Benton I scarce expected to see him again – but since he has been here he has had no work to do but an occasional ride down to Kanonsis where my sick men were – Now old ‘Satan’ has gone to Sun River to pass the Winter. I wonder if he will forget me when he is away.

I too am glad my precious darling that you wrote that letter. You have no idea of the sense of overwhelming comfort it gave to me on the wild prairie. It seemed to make one feel at once that I was not lost that I was in my Father’s keeping – and that the spirit of your prayers hovered over me and that I was not even alone. And since then I have as before talked to your dear handwriting on the envelope – but now I could open it and hear you answer me. You would often have laughed to hear me asking the senseless bit of paper with some ink scratches on it the gravest questions and keeping up a conversation with it. Many a time too Old ‘Satan’ has no doubt cogitated on my sanity. For while we were on the march, he walking along beside me – I would talk to him about you by the hour & when I saw his bright eye of which alas! grew very dim before we got to our journey’s end I glance at me – I would throw my arms around his neck lay my head against his and tell him I wished it was you. The poor old fellow would stop & look at me so sorrowfully – as much as to say – “Now don’t take on so – all will come right in time”. Then perhaps we would see a little piece of the prairie which looked not quite so parched as the rest & we would make towards it and he would try to get a mouthful to appears that dreadful “Tiger” inside of him. Did you ever read “Blades of Grass” by Farjean? You will then know what I mean by the Tiger.

– Good night –

July 25th

I have had as you see no opportunity of sending this nor will I for another week. I am afraid that Mr. Cameron was right after all. Mr. Chapman and I reached the rear guard of the Police – consisting of the Red River Carts on Thursday evening at a place called the second crossing of the Souris, because there we cross the Souris river for the second time. The night we camped at the river with a fierce prairie fire raging on the opposite side in spite of which we all slept soundly. But I must begin now in detail. We started from Dufferin on Friday with 2 men 2 teams as horse & wagon provisions for 10 days. After leaving Grants the Half breed’s farm we made camp. Chapman’s horse got mired trying to get a drink. We got him out and had a nice time cleaning him & the saddle. The camp was just on the confines of a prairie which we had been crossing all day, a deep ravine wooded behind us & fur trees in either side with an almost boundless stretch of prairie in front. We made tea & thoroughly enjoyed our friend pork & hard tack. We also instituted a watch & more to see the way in which our horses might be stolen than from any hope of saving them if any attempt should be made. It was weary work after a long days drive to sit awake for two hours during the night. I forgot to say that I this morning began my first experience of riding. I rode all the morning and drove during the after-noon. I felt a little sore & tired but otherwise I did not ride hard all the time. The horses were miserable beasts half starved and one of them miserably sick. I took a sketch of part of the prairie by our camp. The next morning we were off [ ] & for dinner stopped at a puddle of water for an hour or two – it was just in the middle of a rolling prairie, undulations of the ground rolling onwards like the ground at sea for miles & miles, no tree or rock to break the distance till then fade away with the faint blue horizon. I rode all the morning, in the evening we camped in a beautiful valley sunk in the middle of the prairies, the sides of the valley sloping upwards very steep & terminating in prairie, a stream flows through the valley – and the mosquitoes are fearful. Bright and warm is the morning we are off again the horses looking a little fagged but eating their oats well. We passed the cusp of the Police about 4 miles on through the wildest looking country I ever saw at noon we came to another stream & another camp of the police – we halted for dinner – having made about 25 miles. We had to turn one of our horses loose here as it could go no further. We then proceeded along. I riding and keeping a good long distance in front, we were gradually rising higher and higher above the level of the sea over ranges of smoothly winded hills, all being covered by a short thick dried grass presenting no trace of green on all their extended surface – but nestled in among some rather more prominent mounds – shut in on all sides would be a lake or pond or marsh or dry land ground covered with the rankest most luxuriant grass of the richest shades of green & yellow – which curlew flew & at times duck could be seen flying about. The water at times is good, at other times very salt & salt in crustations all around its margins. We camped tonight in a beautiful spot[,] a river very sluggish – but its banks fringed with trees – rushes birds of all kinds hopping about & singing – such a change from the dry stillness of the prairie. I here took a small sketch of the river. My turn to keep watch came on at 2 in the morning. Oh it was lively then I can tell you in every dark object I could fancy I saw moving imagining it to be an Indian until I went up to it & find only a bush or stump any unusual noise would be construed into an Indian signal – if the horses were restless they smelt an Indian. I was not so much afraid of my scalp as of the horses – if they were stolen our provisions would also go & we should starve or be reduced to the extremity of eating one another. However morning came & no Indians we started off in fine style and traveled over the interminable prairies we could find no water in the evening until late at night, the thirst we suffered was terrible & the poor horses – with heads down wearied, stepping out – about 9 o’clock we found a beautiful spring hidden among some bushes, it was the merest chance. The chance was providential and we were very thankful. My how the wind did blow that night a thunder storm at some distance, the lightning was fearfully with the wind blowing a perfect gale. Mine was the first watch of the night, and every moment I thought the tent would blow down – or the wagon topple over. However by 12 o’clock nothing had happened and I retired to sleep and oblivion. The next day we made the 1st crossing of the Souris after a journey in all respects similar to the previous ones. The sun was exceedingly hot and I got my face and hands pretty well burned, more especially as I was riding and had exchanged my hard hat for the scotch cap – at the first crossing of the Souris we found the remains of a Police camp where the evidently had camped for a couple of days. It was a lovely spot a broad valley with the river running through it winding about like a silver thread, the banks fringed with thick woods. The valley was shut in by high banks almost precipitous & on reaching the top they immediately go off into the dead [ ] of the prairie. We found two oxen left behind by the Force and two horses that had perished. The next day we were off and traveled as before until noon when we came across a piece of burnt prairie and of all the desolate looking things or places this was the worst for miles and miles nothing but an expanse of blackened ground – bare of any vestige of green not a sign of life even the little gophers a sort of chipmunk had disappeared – nothing but the barren bleak desolate burnt ground, which was hot from the fire and from the sun the wind blew small particles of ashes & dust in our eyes and rendered them sore, at the termination of the fire we found a marsh where we watered the horses and had dinner consisting of hard tack cold pork and sardines. We then pushed on[,] Chapman’s horse gave out so he and one of the men remained behind to lead it, we met one of the police riding back to look for a cow but as we had not seen it he rode back with us giving his horse to Chapman. We reached the second crossing of the Souris about 9 o’clock – pitched our tent & proceeded to have supper. Chapman did not get in until after 10. We found a number of the Police in the ox carts – had remained behind, the rest of the force having gone on in the morning that night the ox train with the cattle moved on. There was a report here that during the day a party of Sioux to the number of 150 has passed & taken all the provisions from a party of the Boundary Commission who were stationed there. However we kept no watch that night as we were all too tired, and we felt a sense of security from our proximity to the police. In the morning we started off and by noon came upon the oxtrain, had dinner and rested for an hour or two and again started off. We made about 20 miles after dinner & about six o’clock came upon a few wagons that had not been able to keep up to the train so we encamped along with them and the next morning Chapman & myself walked into the camp of the police about 10 miles further on. We had some breakfast at the mess and then reported to the Colonel. The Col. is a tall man with rather a hard face I think & fond of giving a rub now and again to show he is boss. Still if I do my duty & he can do nothing to me. Of the other Officers Capt. French seems to be a jolly Irishman. I think I can get along all right with him. He was very much obliged for the letters & parcel I brought him. He is a long lanky fellow over six feet tall with an Irish accent & is apparently a jovial chap. Col. McLeod[sic] the second in command is a gentleman & fine looking. Col. Griffiths the Adjt. Is very kind and obliging & I am sure I will like him. The others I have seen but seldom and am hardly able to form an opinion. Dr. Kittson is about 30 years of age, athletic fond of sporting & hunting and with very fair professional abilities. He will be an easy chap to get along with. I am to draw my uniform etc. here. I have blankets waterproof sheet & Pistol already, the rest I will have to get here. The meals are pretty good considering. There is plenty of pork, hard tack, some bread which is heavy as lead, tea, sugar, at times wild duck, at others Beef, soup etc. My work began the day after I arrived here which was on Saturday morning Sunday I went to Kittson’s tent & helped him through with the sick parade & to day Monday I undertook it myself and succeeded to my entire satisfaction. There are none really ill a few cases only of local distress. You will notice that our course from Dufferin has been almost due West along the road under by the Boundary Commission and will continue so until we reach Bow River which is about six hundred miles West of this then we will turn northwards & make for these whiskey distillers endeavor to make them stop their whiskey trade or fight them. The force will return by way of Fort Edmonton where a portion of them will remain for the winter and I will be left in charge of them Dr. Kittson being with the forces in headquarters at Fort Garry. I am well pleased with this sort of life and think it agrees with me. The name of our present camp is Roches Percée from the fact that in the valley where we are encamped is a rock of the limestone formation, the winds & rains & snows have so worn the softer parts that the rock is fissured in every direction & a big hole has been formed through its middle. In one of the future Canadian Illustrated you will see a picture of it drawn by their special artist by the name of Julien – a dirty-looking little Frenchman who draws very well indeed while I am thus writing about him he comes to look at some of the sketches that I have taken and thinks very well of them. So I suppose I ought to alter my opinion about him but I cannot.

I think Fort Garry would be a better place to address my letters than Dufferin – to the Assistant Surgeon N.W.M. Police Fort Garry. They will then forward them to Fort Edmonton or wherever I may be if an opportunity occurs.

I intend writing to Dr. Workinan Dr. McCollum and to Mannie to day. Tell Jack to try and send me some stamps. The uniform measure at McEachren’s will be of no service to me, so nothing need be said about that unless he charges for the mere measurement. The boots are finished I should like sent out to Fort Garry. How do you like my photos? Do you think them good? How did you enjoy your trip to Chicago – with the Taylors? Has Jacks Postal card chess game finished yet and if so who won and if not who has the advantage?

Remember me to Frank Darling – tell him I wish he was along, this Julien has $1400 a year from the Illustrated news – can’t Grip afford a special artist and send Frank – ask him.

Now darling don’t you be in the blues because you don’t often hear from me. I think of you always last night I took a quiet walk down the valley and in all the stillness of the wilderness saw things to come, lifted the veil of the future and with fond longings cried out for the present to pass – for the unknown yet certain to be at hand, unknown for we do not know in what positions we will be nor what out circumstances yet certain in our mutual all abiding love – for this can never change – never grow cold – can it Lizzie? Never mind no cloud but has a silver lining – let us hope that ours will be golden. Fort Edmonton is not so far as the Rocky Mountains, or not so far as it might be. Tis a long lane that has no turning. But all this proverbial comfort is almost worst than no comfort for it brings so strongly into the foreground the long period of separation – which we must endure.

The weather has been very pleasant – quite warm during the day and during the nights quite cool. On Saturday night the Thermometer stood at 32º freezing point and there was ice on the river! At this camp a detachment of the Police came down from Fort Ellice – and they with Troop A are on Wednesday morning going back & are the bearers of our mails so this will have travelled with me, from Grants farm near Dufferin to Roche Percée & from thence to Ft. Ellice & Fort Garry – a long way and a roundabout one for a letter to take is it not.

And now my own darling I must say goodbye. Give my love to your mother and Sallie. Remember me most kindly to all inquiring friends Probably from Wood End or from Woody Mountain Depot. I will have another opportunity of sending you a line. Good bye for a period. May our God shower his blessing upon you and comfort you.

Goodbye

Yours forever
Barrie.

P.S. Remember

Nevitt
Assistant Surgeon
N.W.M. Police
Fort Garry