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.

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.

Fort MacLeod [ctd]

Nov. 12th

I do not know when a mail will go out or when ours will come in. I had a letter written waiting for you also one for Frank Darling and one for Harry Stotesburg a large wagon train is now expected in every day – it was heard of the day before yesterday at the St. Mary’s River. Is only 3 days from here – whether this has letters for us no one can tell. Every night in the candles a large bunch of letters points to me I look at them & wonder if they will be soon here. We have made a checker board & checkers of gun wads & now pass the evenings in friendly contests. Euchre – poker – whiskey poker too – Fare – Vingteten playing for gun wads – whiskey poker was played for tobacco. I never played for anything but gun wads & they are always given back at the end of the game. We are now likely to get into our quarters before the six weeks I spoke of are out – we have changed the mode of building – from cross logs to pickets. The first of these little drawings is meant to represent the cross log mode the latter the picket – with pickets a trench is dug & the logs set up on end and the logs are much shorter & more easily handled than in the other cross log mode. I will try when the place is built to draw you a small sketch of the place and send it to you. In that you may have some faint idea of the appearance of things around me. you would laugh to see me handling the pick & shovel. I bet you I can beat the Corporatino workers in Toronto. I have become quite an expert in their use – the axe too I can handle quite deftly – at heaving logs I am a lumberman – sawing with the cross cut saw is child’s play. I feel my arms and legs & back very very sore and stiff but there is nothing like more work to take that out of a man. The hardest work of all is mudding the chinks – we bring a stiff blue clay that is found in profession here & mix it with water & slap it as hard as we can into the chinks between the logs – it is so cold that the mud & water freeze into great huge lumps or freeze on our hands – which have to be held in the fire until the outside coating of ice melts. The pain is sometimes almost unendurable till we get used to it – and every day now gets colder & makes it worse yet it has to be done – the outside work is the hardest – when we get to doing the inside we can have warm water to mix the mud & will be protected from the wind. I had to stop & sign the sick Reports & then went over to see some sick Indians. They gave me a pair of Buffalo moccasins with the hair inside very warm. This may be said to be my first fee in the great North West from the noble redman. I got one pair from a half breed for attending to her child. By the time I was through with the Indians it was dinner time & after dinner I walked up the river 4 miles to a traders - & heard that he expected a train in from Benton every day – he had heard they were only 25 miles from here yesterday. He thinks too they have letters for us they left Benton 20 days ago. I hope sincerely they have letters. Oh what a disappointment if they have not and what pleasure if they have. Conrad is going to send his ox teams back to Fort Benton and the remained of our horses go back with him. Most probably he will take our letters too. One of our mens quarters 100 feet long is all ready for the roofing – which will in all probability be done tomorrow – then the others will follow in quick succession but numerous things yet remain to be done. It has begun to snow again to night and how long it will keep up no one knows. The weather is pretty cold all the time never even at noon being above freezing point. I wonder what you are doing. This evening after tea at 6.30 I had a smoke. I know you did not do that. Then the Col. & Winder & the Adpt. Crozier – began talking of the Fort Garry times. The Winder and I had a game of checkers in which after a protracted game he beat me. now I am writing to you. Did I ever tell you of my tent mates since we came up here. We have a Bill Tent – round – and there are three of us in it. Capt. Winder commanding “C” Troop – a tall man with whiskers & beard of a reddish brown nearly bald – very quick in his way but full of jokes & a certain dry humor – he is from Compton near Lennoxville – and knows a good many of the people around there whom I used to know and heard about. He has been in California too & is quite a traveled man. Capt. Jackson is the very quintessence of fire the chance bristro Irishman he has red hair & a pair of fierce moustaches which he persists in curling he has strange coloured eyes – not green not grey but a mixture of grey & red. He is always playing a practical Joke on some one. He has command of the artillery we have. He is from Seaforth near Coderich. Very hot tempered but obliging. We get along together quite nicely. Our mess has an addition to it of Col. MacLeod – the Assist. Commissioner of the force – after every meal of course we have a smoke and discuss the affairs of the force & the probabilities of the weather but always fall back into talking of Homes & homie belongings. I believe I told you that he is connected with the Baldwins in Yorkville and also knows the Amour’s of Bowmanville in fact at one time he used to live in Bowmanville and was in partnership with Mr. Armour. He is a very nice fellow to have anything to do with. He is from Kingston and knows the Andersen’s & Fred Nelson quite well. So putting all together we have plenty to talk about. It is now nearly bed time so I will say goodnight for the present.