Feb 17th

I am afraid that this can scarcely be called a ‘diary letter’. So many days have passed without my writing anything in it. I leave you to imagine the humdrum life I am leading, every day the same thing. On Monday night Crozier Welch Denny and I went up to Crowfoot’s Camp to the dance. The evening did not pass quite so pleasantly as former ones perhaps because we were becoming satiated with so much dissipation. Crozier Welch + Denny were each kissed by various squaws + had to give them a pledge, we returned to the Fort early. I was not called upon to dance. I was just as well pleased as tho’ I had danced at the evening. On Tuesday Waxy’s trial was finished and he was convicted of indirectly trading whiskey to the Indians, + sentenced to a fine of $500.00 + six months imprisonment. He is now cogitating over his misdemeanors in the Guard Room. Smith was fined $300.00 and six months imprisonment. The warrant for his imprisonment was held over + he is to leave the country, not to come back within a year. One or two minor cases also came off relative to the possession of horses. Tuesday night my tooth began aching + kept me awake the greater part of the night. It has continued to ache all day to day + is still pounding away. It did not prevent me going with Col. McLeod to the Willow Creek Bluff about ¾ miles from the Camp to signal to some of the officers. A horse race came off this afternoon between Allen’s + Kanouse’s horses. Kanouse won. I saw the race from the Bluff. I took another sketch of the exterior of the Fort of Col. McLeod, he is going to send it to his sister Mrs Baldwin + to have it Photographed. My tooth aches so I can scarcely sit still, nothing does it any good, but rubbing the gum with strong Tr[?] Sodium. I must tell you before I stop that it is raining to night, a slight drizzle, but enough to show you that now, it is not very cold. Good night darling. I hope soon to hear from you. Perhaps by tomorrow you will have received my last letters. I do not know when this will meet your eye, but am afraid it will not be for some time. Good night once more.

Saturday Feb 13th

After being away about 10 days Crozier returned last night. Information has been laid before Col Macloed that whiskey was being traded north of us + Weatherwax was suspected of being mixed up with it. So Crozier with a party of men started up. It was dreadfully cold the first night or two, but they arrived safely at High River + found the birds had flown. Their forts were destroyed. We met one of the traders named Smith, managed to get direct evidence of his having traded whiskey and so brought him along. They started out with a wagon, but about 46 miles from the Fort had to leave it + build a sleigh. This too they had to leave on account of the snow + pack their food + bedding on pack horses. Crozier says the soil up there is much richer + better than it is down here, but the general character of the country is much the same. We were all very glad to see Crozier back again. The Indians up in that part of the country, he said, were dreadfully afraid of the soldiers. For instance, they had stolen a couple of horses, Crozier had demanded them, one was near at hand + was immediately delivered up, the other was at their Camp 8 or 9 miles away, it was late in the evening when the demand was made. That night when all was fast asleep, a knocking at the door wakened them (They were in a trader’s fort) + an Indian was found with the horse + this at 12 midnight. Father Scullen [Scollen] is the Roman Catholic missionary out there, he seems to be a jolly kind of man + frequently gives the Indians a good sound drubbing going at them with his fists. He is a Dublin man + well educated, has been out in this country for 12 years + expects to leave his bones here. I have a patient now under my care, an old Frenchman, cook at Fort Kipp. I expect to have a little operation on him tomorrow, he has an abcess in his shin bone. I am going to try + take it out. This Frenchman is a strange character he is from Berthier Quebec, says he is only 48 years old + looks 80, from the person he talks about, people who know say he must be 70 at least. He is called by everyone Frank Missouri or simply Missouri. He is partly deaf + talks but a little English. And now I must tell you what is confidently expected. A Mail letter next week, just think of it. Our man is probably now on his way out from Benton, or will start tomorrow or Monday, + will reach here sometime during the week. How anxious I am to hear from you is known only to you and I. Tomorrow will be St Valentine’s day, surely that is a harbinger of letters, or ought to be. Don’t you think so?

The time passes now quickly, perhaps because we are now more used to it, perhaps because I have something to keep me busy. The Blackfoot language is a fine melodious language, here is a specimen Ninā-ākă-afoi-wōsin-o-ma[oma]-kistowā-otā-wōsin-tāpix – which is short for British American or Canadian. The “ā” is pronounced ‘ah’ broad, the ‘ă’ like the ‘a’ in fate the ‘o’ long “oh” the “i” like ‘e’, + accented a little over the accents. Isn’t it a dear little language with sweet little mouthfuls for words? I must now say Good night for it is getting late.

Febr. 12th

I have been prevented from writing since the ninth by various things, but will endeavour to give you some idea of what was going on. Let me see this is Friday the 12th. Wednesday was the 10th nothing of my moment happened. Denny and I had intended in the evening going up to Crowfoot’s Camp, as there was a big dance there but Col. McLeod made us try our hands as signaling with lights. This kept us until nearly nine o’clock but Denny and I not to [be] frightened by a cold night + a walk of two miles, arrive at the Indian encampment at a fashionable hour, we took along with us some coffee molasses + cornmeal. The arrival of our august presence, with the aforementioned luxuries added new zest to the dancers. We were ushered into a lodge about 12 ft in diameter + managed to pick our way + to find a seat. The lodge was densely packed. There were 3 rows of Indians all around, + on about half the circumference the crowd was about 4 or 5 thick. Six drums gave us a chiming noise. We remained there until nearly one o’clock. It was very amusing to see how the Indians enjoyed the mush + molasses. I carried on a desperate flirtation with no less than four squaws, they made me get up + dance again + again. One of them had managed to get more than her share of the mush + being obliged to get up + dance, was in a quandary not knowing what to do with her porridge. So I galliantly came to her rescue + took her porridge + hid it. When suddenly I was called upon to dance. So I had to take this tin can full of mush and putting my glove over it, held it high over my head + danced. I enjoyed myself very much. On Thursday we had a visit from Crowfoot and several other Indians + in the evening we practiced for several hours at signaling. To day the morning passed as usual until 11 o’clock when Weatherwax’s trial went on for the examination of some witnesses who were obliged to leave before the real trial came off. Nothing new was elicited. This afternoon Denny and I went up again to the Indian Camp to take our lesson in Blackfoot. Denny also wished to get a pair of moccasins. We remained there for some time + came home by the river, firing at some objects in the bank as we came down. After dinner we had another trial of the signals, + then retired, only to be wakened up about 11 o’clock by the entrance of Crozier + his party who have just returned with a prisoner. Some account of what he did I will reserve until tomorrow.

December 30th

You will notice that my last letter or rather the first page of this letter was commenced upon the wrong side of the page, don’t let it bother you. This morning as usual I was up in time for sick parade, my servant calls me every morning at 8.30, gets my things together, brushes my boots and fetches water for me to wash in – the sick list this morning was nothing much. The morning was most bright and beautiful, the sun shining through the clear bright atmosphere, the mercury stood at 18º below zero, but we did not feel the cold. After breakfast I set about making the mattresses and at noon I rode down to Kanouse’s and fetched Brooks up to the Hospital, he stood the journey pretty well. I got him safely into bed – and I fancy he is pretty comfortable. I had lunch then and then read a little medicine – Mr. Weatherwax, a trader, was up here today to enter a lot of horses that he had just brought from Benton, and said that his train was a day behind + had an immense mail for us – probably it would be up tomorrow. He expects it about 3 o’clock at his place and thinks by 4 o’clock it should be here. I hope it is true – that there is a mail – there seems to be no doubt – but as to its size and whether it is all the mail matter that has accumulated in Garry for us during our absence is another question. Shall I go on telling you of my associates? I have told you of Winder and Jackson and Denny – Denny knows T.C. Patteson, met him way off in Illinois, they both come from the same county in England. Welch is another young Englishman. His father has command of the Queen’s Yacht. Welch was rather inclined to be wild and was sent out to America to travel – he has been in Buffalo working there + has gone through Charleston Savannah Florida + New Orleans. He put up finally at Ottawa I believe he had some Government situation there – he joined the force as a Private or Sub-Constable was are they called – and through Political influence was made an officer. He is a little stout chap with a curling lip, knows snatches of nearly every song that is going but although not a bad fellow to meet with, I do not exactly like him, perhaps I judge him too harshly. I do not think I could trust him, he would not have the slightest scruple in getting a person into trouble is he happened to take a dislike to him, + he is continually taking dislikes to people. Allen is a Canadian, son of Dr. Allen solong Mayor of Cornwall he is a broth of a boy – a man without principle + coarse – but he is good humoured and jolly + easy to get along with – does not drink although he swears worse than any trooper – I am living with him now – in preference to being with Winder and Jackson – Crozier is an Irishman by birth, but has lived for a very long while in Canada and claims the proud title of Canadian. He is a Belleville man – has been in the Registrar’s Office in Belleville – he is tall rather nice looking and excellent company, good natured, does his duty well, and might be called a good square-toed fellow – he is older than the other three sub Inspectors. He’s acting Adjutant to Col. MacLeod. But now I must say good night. Oh what joy awaits me tomorrow, for I am sure to get letters from you – even if they are old, they will be in your own dead handwriting. God bless you.