Jany. 23rd

The mail does not go out until tomorrow, so I have another day of grace. I gave Ferland my Hospital Sargt. Leave for two or three days, to go down to Fort Kipp to visit some of his friends. Consequently I have to do his work and my own. I am writing now in the Hospital. It is nearly 12 o’clock. The morning has passed rapidly and uneventfully. Brooks is this morning worse than he has been since he came up from Kanouse’s. His heart is fearfully weak. Poor fellow. It does seem so lonely and so hard for him, suffering as he does and bearing it so patiently. He lies quietly in bed as a sleeping child. His two words with which he answers nearly all questions of his welfare are ‘middling’ + ‘not so well’. I wish that I could hold out some hope of his ultimate recovery, but I am afraid that I cannot. I was here called away by the entrance of the orderly office Capt. Jackson, + the Regimental orderly Sergeant, going their rounds. I had ‘no complaints’ + he expressed himself satisfied with the appearance of things. I heard to day that the Indians very nearly had a fight amongst themselves, up the River. But it turned out to be all blow. The Indians however threw off their blankets + put the squaws away + begun cocking their pistols, etc when the Trader in whose Fort this scene was taking place jumped over his counter with his 7[?] shooter already cocked + with some threats + persuasive language cooled down their belligerent feelings and they began to smoke the pipe of peace.

To day has been like a spring day, a heavy mist has come over the prairies + the cold has turned the mist into minute crystals, which drive past you glistening glittering in the sunlight like as many diamonds. The thermometer was -20º but it did not feel cold in the least. The sun is now shining very bright + the melting snow is dripping quicker from the roofs of our buildings, + disappearing from the ground. The Indians too taking advantage of the warm sunlight, come out like flies to warm + stretch themselves. I have seen a good many of them around today. To give you an idea of their laziness, one was sitting on the Hospital yesterday when I came in I found him + stood about 4 feet from him, he put out his hand for me to shake + would not get up to reach me. I held out mine and motioned him to come – he would not – so as I was not particularly anxious to shake, I turned away. If they are sitting in arms length of a fire, they will give you a match or a piece of paper + motion you to light it + hold it to their pipes, when they could perhaps do it more easily than you.

The Orderly room bugle from prisoners has first sounded and I am afraid I will have to go there as there is a case coming on of a man feigning sickness and I will have to be present. I hope soon to have more letters from you.

The men who are going to take this mail in are going to come right out again + bring what little they can. So it will not be more than a month till I again hear from you. These months January and February are the two bad ones, we had always heard about, in which little or no communication was kept up with the outer + civilized world. Summer or Spring will soon be here, and with it bring many discomforts + many luxuries, most of all an uninterrupted communication with you. I expect that a mail will be established weekly or fortnightly from here during the Summer.

Now my darling, don’t you be anxious on my account. I begin to think that perhaps my telling you, in my last letter of that dark cold side, may make you more anxious + trouble you more than there is any necessity for. The backbone of the Winter is now fully well broken, of course we will have storms + some cold weather, + there is also no use in shutting our eyes to dangers that do + will menace us. But the very knowledge of such danger is our greatest safeguard for we are careful.

The most we have to fear from the Indians is the loss of our horses. In the spring when the Indians begin to move, they take every opportunity to steal a horse + then pack off to the mountains, + are no more seen. Our presence here has had a most salutary effect upon them, they used to lay their hands upon anything that was left carelessly around, now they pass them by, or return them to their owners. And now I must say good night for the present, I anxiously look forward to another Mail from Benton. Remember me most kindly to the Cameron’s + give my love to all at home. How does Sallie like water colours? She used to distain them having a preference for Crayons. I want you if you can to send me one or two good French Novels. I am keeping up my French + can understand almost any conversation, + also to a very small extent speak the language.

And so Good night.

I am your Barrie.