Fort MacLeod, October 26th 1874

Dear Lizzie

Again I have to write you the sad tidings that your letter has not reached me. I do not know how much longer I will have to wait – but I hope not very long – no mail matter has come in from Benton. We expect letters now every day. Perhaps after all I will get them for a birthday present. We have had our first real tough of winter – after being surrounded on all sides by vast prairie fires which lightened the heavens with their lurid glare for miles & miles the wind changed to the north & snow began falling & it was cold. In our poor thin canvass tents the keen wind found many an entrance & with no winter clothes it was bitterly cold. Fortunately for our tent Conrad had a small stove which he brought over to us – we made an impromptu safety valve & put in a fire which kept us comfortable. The men got served with Buffalo Robes - & tho’ they were anything but comfortable still it made things bearable for them. Of course all work upon our fort had to be discontinued last night was 16º when noticed[;] I think it was lower & work is again resumed. It will be some weeks yet before we get into our winter huts - & we will have several storms like this last one – which after all only lasted two days and a half. The snow is still on the ground & may continue to be for 2 or 3 days which makes it cold and unpleasant underfoot. I feel sorry for the party that went East with Col. French. They will be in a miserably exposed portion of country where this storm will be felt with tenfold severity. One melancholy event connected with the storm – the death of one man who had been suffering from Typhoid Fever he went out in the cold without coat or hat & came in complaining of cramps & died in a few hours. He was buried this morning with military honors. His death threw a gloom over us all. It was the second one since the force was organized. Also the first white man who ever died a natural death in these parts all others had been killed or come to a sudden end. I do so long to hear from you that is my constant cry – of course I know you have written also that my anxiety only makes the time appear longer – but still I am anxious. Never mind a mail is coming when we won’t want letters[,] when words will do and then is we won’t have a good long long talk.

Yesterday evening was the first Sunday evening I have missed my evening walk. I went out for a short time but only round the tent – perhaps next Sunday will be milder and I will start earlier & make up for it. The Rocky Mountains loomed up this morning in dazzling splendor – reflecting the sun’s rays – they appear only a few miles off & showed all their cracks & fissures more plainly than I have yet seen them. We have had fish from the river just in front of us – large pike weighing from 6 to 12 lbs. a man can in half an hour more than supply all the men in camp for one day. Deer have been shot especially the day before the storm – they seemed to have known of its approach & fled for warmth into the bush – large flocks of geese are continually passing over us but no one has been fortunate enough to get one of the many birds. A goose is a noble bird and endowed with many good qualities & with a high order of goose chase is not to make a fool of a goose but of the one sent. A band of the Kootenay tribe of Indians have been setting fire to the prairies all around the country. On Friday night one of the largest fires was suddenly turned by the wind in our direction & stopped within a few miles of us. The camp & country was one dense cloud of smoke making us all weep & cough. For the past week or so I have not been so well as I had been – owing most probably to my eating too much and working too little. I have been going about a little more & so feel better.

Would you be kind enough to ask Jack to go to Willing & Williamson & renew my subscription to "The Practitioner” & give them my present address – Dr. McCollum is receiving the present numbers & has the back numbers of the past year. I began from the month of December if I remember rightly & the subscription was too. I am very much afraid will all my messages & demands Jack will wish we had no communication at all with the outer world.

Camp Old Woman’s Creek, August 15th 1874

My darling Lizzie

I wrote to Jack yesterday in a great hurry having suddenly heard of an opportunity of sending a letter by Col. MacLeod via Wood Mountain where some person is on the 17th going to leave for Fort Garry. Today I have heard of another chance a large portion of Half Breed with horses have just met us on their way to Fort Garry. The head man is a friend and old schoolfellow of Dr. Kittson. I told you that opportunities would occur somewhat like this did I no?. They are all one sided however and only go one way. I wish I could hear from you, were it ever so short. I am starved for want of hearing from you. But never mind [?] [?] must come to all things and when I do get news from you they will be all the dearer & all the more greedily devoured. Just fancy the hubbub confusion, excitement, anxiety & crowded rush for letters when mail does come. And then the happy moments afterwards reading, rereading & again reading until every word is engraved clearly & distinctly on our memories. Ah but it’s something to look forward to. Almost (not quite) a full recompense for the long period of anxious expectation - & vexing uncertainty. I am glad that I am able to state with a clear conscience, that as yet I have killed no one – either medicinally or otherwise. As for my own health it is perfect without a flaw. I am strong as the ox (fabled) & am getting of an exquisite mahogany colour, which colour when I get warm takes on the beautiful polish the aforesaid wood is so famous for. Indeed at times I have a spinning countenance. I am happy comparatively speaking as happy as I can be without my tormentor [?] I have not audibly been called any hard names such as goose [?] head, donkey & other ladylike & civilized appellations. To tell truth I often wish I could hear such terms upon which I had learned to look as terms of welcome kindness[,] pity or love. I would willingly forego many pleasures to hear them again. I wrote to you from our camping place about 5 miles from this & sent it to Wood Mountain by an Indian guide. Before that my letter was by Capt. Walters who with Col. McLeod had left us to go to Wood Mountain for Pemmican – he delivered the letter in safe hands to go to Garry. I have no stamps. That is the thing I could not remember in Jack’s letter yesterday. Ask him to send me as many stamps as he chooses. After numerous trials & many disappointments I have at last succeeded in getting a tunic without any gold trim however and some grey cloth for riding breeches but I have to get these made up without trimming of any sort, buttons or anything else. I expect I will have to tie them together with Sagannappi [sic], it’s trimmings will in that case far outlast the cloth. You remember I told you I sent everything I did not consider absolutely necessary to Fort Edmonton from Roche Percée. The country through which we have been laterally passing bears the same leading characteristics as that before. Old Woman’s lake is quite a body of water – salt – tho’ scarcely perceptible in the taste, yet in its effects upon the men as was easily seen it was not like ordinary water. We camped just on the Lake shores and indulged freely in the luxury of a daily bath, the watering of the horses was a scene of life vivacity & confusion seldom witnessed along the quiet shores of the lake, one might easily made out for a mile and then be not over his depth, the bottom was a fine hard firm sand. Plenty of gulls curlews & ducks flew about and at a distance some pelicans were seen fishing. Col. French shot a pelican which I believe will be stuffed it measures more than eight feet from tip to tip of its wings which were tipped with black the beak long & the pendulous baglike lower lip of a bright yellow as also are the legs – the rest of the plumage is a glistening white. The artist has made a sketch of the watering of the horses, which is very like. The artist has lately been very busy, making sketches of the Indians and their encampment. As a rule they are very good. These will, I believe not be published until sometime in the winter when he returns to Montreal. I have not been making any sketches at all lately. I have not felt at all in the humor.

What have you been doing with yourself? Have you been taking some exercise? You must write and tell me all about yourself – what you do & is done to you – who visits you & what is the latest bit of news about your neighbors & friends & everybody and everything. Do you mind? See that you do – the smallest atom of news will be acceptable to me. If you should hear anything from home be sure and let me know of it. I wrote home before I left telling them to send their letters to the Hospital as before & they would be forwarded to me. You might ask Jack to call on Dr. McCollum and ask him to direct all letters for me to Fort Garry. If Jack sees the Dr, tell him to remember me most kindly both to him and to Mrs. McCollum. If Green is there to Gunn also to McAlpine in fact that I begged to be remembered to them all. He might tell Poulter that I saw some of the Boundary Commission. As I write there are two Indians on horseback in front of my tent. They have had an accession to their numbers today they appear to be finer looking fellows than the others. I stopped there and appeared at a general parade, to have some orders read out. Then the next excitement was three figures on horse back in the distance, they were approaching the camp at a rapid pace. Who were they? One turned out to be our guide an Indian the one whom I gave the letter from Old Woman’s Lake & with him came a stranger of whom the guide knew nothing he wished to join the force or at least to be hired as a guide, he speaks English well and Siox but no French – no one knows if he has any acquaintance with the Blackfoot language[;] an investigation is now going on of who & what he is & what he knows. I hope they will have nothing to do with him as he has a most cut throat appearance.

Last evening I enjoyed most thoroughly. I went down to speak to Capt. Miles in his tent and found quite a congregation there – singing – one or two really excellent voices – the choruses showed that a good quartette could easily be obtained in the camp, there was one fellow called Beattie who has a good Bass. They continued to sing – songs sentimental, songs comic – songs semi comic & the internals interspersed with remarks sarcastic – personal and general. They are at it again[,] Beautiful Star is now going in full fling – the tenor is good. Yesterday evening some of the Indians came over and invited us with a dance – it was done on a small scale – a Brave a fine broad shouldered fellow was the leader – he had on a blanket and a feather in his hair – he was accompanied by six or seven squaws who with the [?] vanity of their sex had various ornaments round their necks[,] in their ears – bracelets rings & some attempts at embroidery in their dress & moccasins. They formed themselves in a circle the leader with a mammoth child’s rattle began beating time – then all hooted – then they all began to chant in an uncouth rough monotonous unmusical and in unison a jargon – the leader keeping time & the circle moved round keeping both feet together and on the ground – they appeared to get more excited or at all events they moved faster & faster & they ceased and laughed. Our interpreter said it was a song about their memories the Blackfeet being snared & scalped – it might have been that or anything else. Their dance was interrupted by the discordant tones of a concertina playing a jig tune – some of the men then began to dance a jig & then a Scotch reel & finally ended in a waltz. The Indians apparently did not like this and went away looking decidedly huffed. The thunderstorm of which I made mention to Jack passed off with only one or two good gusts of wind which raised the dust in enormous clouds during the night – however a second storm was brewing and came up with a good deal of thunder and lightning & some wind but no rain more than a few drops. I had undressed and gone to bed but as the wind began to rise, I gradually put on one thing after another until I was entirely dressed boots & all. I expected the tent to come down every moment the wind was blowing straight against my side of the tent when suddenly I was awakened by a deafening bang & something struck me forcibly in the head. I could hear a confused stamping & struggling outside. I looked through the tent which now has a big hole in the side and saw an enormous horse struggling wildly and almost beyond the controls of the men around him. However they got him away and I afterwards found out it was the stallion which had broken loose and had bolted & was making straight for my tent on the full gallop when they just stopped him in time. Had he come on well you would not have heard from me again. That is the great danger in all these thunderstorms mainly a stampede of the horses. They become so terribly frightened. All day today I have been without a house my tent being in the hands of the tent maker mending the rent made last night as also sundry other rents made during the night when it was blown down of which I wrote you before. However it is now all fixed up and better than ever. The tobacco we draw from the stores is the most miserable beastly stuff, full of stems hairs of hemp and were small nails. You might ask Jack to call at Jaguiers on King Street and get five pounds of the kind I generally get – the long flat thick plugs and if it will not make the parcel too large send it up with the boots. It will reach me I expect some time in January and will last a long time. I will have lots & lots of time in the long winter evenings to smoke and read. My reading will I expect however be confined to medical literature as I have none but medical works – and probably there will be none other in Edmonton. Thank Jack ever so much for “93” & “Nancy”. I have read them and they are now going through the camp. “93” I intend reading again and trying to find out something about the numerous names mentioned therein. I have been reading a French novel called “Bibi-Tapin”. It is well written, and I find that with the exception of a phrase or a work now and then that I can understand it very well. The story consists of about 300 large double column pages about the size of an ordinary school atlas, it has a good many wood plates in it but never the less it is quite a mighty work. I have just opened my ink bottle and spilled my ink. I managed to get this one penful and suppose I must say goodnight tomorrow I will go (Sunday Aug 16) and borrow some.

St. Paul’s Minnesota July 12th 1874

My Dearest Lizzie

I arrived here this morning about 6.30, after a very fatiguing journey from Chicago. I am obliged to remain over here until tomorrow morning at 8.30 when I leave by the Lake Superior and Mississippi RailRoad for a place called Thompson’s Junction not far from Duluth, & thence onwards to Moorhead, where I expect to be at 4.50am Tuesday. Thence by stage to Pembina, which strange to say no one can tell me how long it will take or what the fare will be. I must take things as they come.

After breakfast today, I endeavored to get a nap but the somnolent God was not to be wooed, and after an unsuccessful trial of an hour I gave up & went out for a walk. It seemed like Sunday not a bit, most of the Stores were open, all the Lager Beer Saloons all the tobacconists, & many groceries dry goods etc. Sounds of rollicking song & the drinking of glasses came from the numerous pot houses. The Street Cars were running, & the streets pretty lively.

St. Paul’s is built on a high bluff on the banks of the Mississippi, there is a very high bridge built across the river, the bridge being much higher on the city’s side and reaching the other shore by a steep incline, a beautiful view up and down the river can be obtained from it. I had a good wash this morning and feel a good deal better for it.

I wrote you a note in pencil from Chicago & had to give it to a stranger to post giving him a silver quarter to buy a postage stamp. I hope you will get the letter. Now don’t you fret for me Lizzie will you mind? Keep up a brave heart and try to take things easy. I am going to try to enjoy myself and I am certain I cannot if I think of you at home sorrowful and in the blues. I am going to try every Sunday evening to have a walk, such as we took the other Sunday up to Bloor Street. (You won’t forget it?) I won’t be alone for I will think of you & what you will be doing and of what you will be thinking. Bear up old woman, you know every cloud has its silver lining and so has this one tho’ we may not be yet able to see it. I must run down to dinner & will write some more afterwards. Bye bye for the present.

7.30 P.M. If the Sleepy God was perverse this morning he made up for it this afternoon by being exceedingly propitious and I slept the entire afternoon only waking in time for tea. I think I have enough in me to sleep all night as well. After I went down, while smoking in the Station saw the train from Chicago come in, & one on the Western Wisconsin River go out then back to talk with you. Dear child how I wish that you had or could have come with me. I do not want to hold out false hopes but perhaps before I return for good you may have a turn of camp life, that is if I thought you would like it and it was not too rough for you. How happy I should be you know yourself. You remember those two proverbs you quoted to me that night on the steps, & wondered (what need of wonder?) which one would prove true in our case. One of them is proving true, I hardly thought it possible but it is. My absence makes my heart grow fonder, and the sweet consolation of those last few happy days we spent together does hardly soothe me, rather makes me wish for more. They were happy were they not? In spite of the sadness and the dread surety of parting. Lizzie you must take care of your health now that I am away & let me see roses in your cheeks when I come back. If you do not feel well & are (God forbid it) ill, send for Dr.McCollum at the Hospital, will you promise me? Don’t go to Hall – Dr. McCollum I have the fullest confidence in. I do not know why I think of this, but I imagine you eating sugar to cure everything & with an old humbug to urge you on to eat more. I do not feel easy, I sincerely hope and trust that you will have no cause to call to anyone in that way, but if it should happen, if any such need should arise, oh Lizzie promise me I entreat you to send for McCollum you will like him, he has nice manners & a pleasant address, and is so calm and unflurried by the bedside. Now that I am away from you and cannot come see you, I feel as tho’ all sorts of things might happen to you. God Bless and keep you under his all protecting arm is my earnest & oft repeated prayer.

The sky is pretty well clouded over and it is now rather dark. I must close as I want to post this tonight.

Tell Sally thank you again for her thoughtful present to me. And now again I say goodbye – Dear Lizzie – Good bye.

Your own
Barrie