Fort Macleod N.W.T. Jany. 11th/75

Darling Lizzie,

It was much milder this morning, until about 10 o’clock when it turned much colder, nothing much was doing all day, we discussed the state of the weather the roads the Mail etc and after dinner, we had a dance. It was so very much colder in the night that we all fancied we were in at last for a real spell of true winter weather.

Jany. 8th.

Last night the thermometer at -36º! Since the first of this month the thermometer has been below zero all the time, with the exception of one day when I was 11º above. The wind has changed to day + is blowing from the West. I hope it will continue so for a time, for then we are likely to have fine moderate weather. This morning, I did not get up until 9.30, no one wakened me and I slept on quite unconscious that the Sick bugle had sounded – Ferland however came over to see me + wakened me. I could not think what made me sleep so soundly, until just a few moments ago, I laid it down to a walk I took yesterday, with Welch + my gun – we went about 8 miles after deer – but were unfortunate, both of us fell into the river. I got my beautiful proboscis frozen + we saw no deer. My nose is not going to drop off, don’t be afraid of that, it was only slightly touched with frost on the left side near the point. I dare say it will peel. At present it looks fat + is as shiny as the traditional Ethiopian’s Hell, + red as a grog [?] blossom. It is an edifying spectacle, I assure you. It feels as tho’ somebody has been unsuccessfully trying to wrench it off. Mother always had a horror of my nose freezing + falling off, she always used to caution me about my nose.

Col. McLeod told us to night that a mail would probably leave for Benton the day after tomorrow. “Probably” means if it is not too cold. When will you get this? It seems an age since I began to write it + yet I can hardly believe that it is only 11 days ago. How impatiently I am waiting for another letter from you. The last I received was from St. Catherine’s – you told me the next would be from Toronto. I do so want to hear again from you. What a horrid man Mr. Beaty must be – to go and turn you away from your little curch hall. I hope that you will like the room under the Temperance Hall. It will be a little longer walk for you on Sundays. You must tell me all about how the thing ended and what Mr. Beaty intends doing. Will any one remain at the old building? What about that little building on Pembroke Street, did you not tell me that that was one of your churches? Does it belong to your uncle too? Do you remember the evening we passed it? Going up to the gardens? I found the programme of that evening in the inside of that black hard hat I used to wear, I had thrown the hat away, an Indian got it + was wearing it, but before the Indian got it I found this programme, this was way down at the Old Wives Creek. How many happy recollections that brought back. Brookhouse Bowler, “Let me like a soldier fall”, Don Cesar de Bezan, Maritana[?].

The walk home, the pleasant evening after. Ah, when shall we ever again have such a fun joyous happy peaceful time. Do you recollect asking me which proverb I thought would come true – “Absence makes the heart grow fonder” or the other one, which I will not even write? Well, do you find any trouble – in your case, in telling which one is likely to be true? I do not, I never had any – I never will have any trouble about such a question.

The wind is whistling outside in the most dismal manner, but it is from the right quarter. The wind too finds many a crack + hole in our mud plastered walls, + away from the stove makes it pretty cold. I am going, as soon as the weather permits, to get a window put in my bedroom, and then I intend having the ceiling covered with a heavy awning cloth, + line the walls with factory cotton. This will keep some of the wind out and make the place to much brighter than it does at present. I have not yet taken a sketch of the interior of the fort for you, but must get one to send off by this mail. I must leave you for tonight as I want to finish a letter to Mannie, or rather add something to an already finished letter, so good night.

Jany. 7th.

Excessively cold this morning and stormy so that I did not fo to Fort Kipp, as I intended. I stopped about the Fort doing nothing + found it very monotonous. In the evening, we had another dance, I still stand first favourite as “La Belle Danseuse”. Perhaps I should not tell you, because I might be misconstrued, + you would imagine that I am conceited. But you are the one who taught me to dance, or rather you were the means of my learning to dance. For when I first knew you I could not dance. I wanted to dance with you, I studied the various steps of those considered good dancers, more especially yours, so that when I should dance with you I would not be the gawky fraud I was at first. So Old woman if they like my dancing they like yours.

Jany. 6th.

This morning was cold, but bright and sunny. I went the usual Hospital rounds, after breakfast, which I took about 10 o’clock, I pasted all the Chess problems and columns in a book made of an old newspaper. This occupied me until lunch time. After lunch I had half promised Allen to go with him down to Kanouse’s for a walk, but feeling lazy I backed out + began areading “Nancy”. This kept me employed until about 4 o’clock, when a man named Thomas came in from Fort Kipp, saying that there was a person sick down there who would like very much to see me. I could not very well go just at once, as I had no horse + could not be back to attend my duties in the morning. So I said that I could go in the morning. Just as Thomas came in, Mr. Denny with a small party went out to arrest an Indian who had stolen a wife from another Indian + threatened to shoot the latter. When Denny arrived in the Indian Camp, the accused had flown, but the woman went joyfully back to her first husband. After dinner to night, a fire broke out in the “C” Troop Barracks, the Assembly sounded + all the men promptly answered to the call. The fire proved to be nothing more serious than a chimney + was quickly extinguished.

One of the men Wilson by name, hurt his wrist this evening, + after I examined it, began talking with him. He is from St. Catherine’s, knows of Mr.Taylor + knows of Miss Taylor’s engagement to Robertson. He also went to Upper Canadian College at the same time as Jack, Mannie, Willie Wedd and others that I know. He was acquainted with Morson of Niagra, + used to visit Morson at Trinity College. It sounded very curious to hear my friends spoken of, way out here in the NorthWest where I thought no one knew any one of my friends.

And no I must say good night it is half past eleven + I want to get up early, in order to get through with my business here and start off to Fort Kipp. Good night.

Jany. 5th.

To day has been very clear + very cold. The usual daily round of the Hospital. In the evening after dinner we had a big dance in the Mess Room. One of our Mess men plays on the Concertina + sleeps in the kitchen – we wakened him up and made him play for us. We began with a “Walk Round” then had a set of Quadrilles, + then varied the proceedings with waltzes and gallops - + schottisches [?] We had very good fun. If it may be allowed, without being called conceited, I will say that I was the Belle of the Ball. I was the only one who could dance “Lady” with anything like decency, and consequently my hand was sought after. As soon as we stopped a second claimed my hand. Of course I felt highly flattered. I too was the only one who could dance the Boston – (by the by, I am glad to hear that you have learnt it) I waltzed around, by my lone, to the great edification of the onlookers, in the graceful images of that seraphic step, now sailing grandly forwards, then careering joyfully backwards. They no sooner said, “Now I have it”, then by reversing I again threw them into a stack of bewilderment bordering on lunacy. That would have been fine if only I could have a waltz with you again. It is late and I must say Good night + Pleasant dreams.

Jany. 4th

Last night it was very cold, the thermometer showing 30º below zero, I think it must have been lower than that. I did nothing to day but the usual rounds and began a letter to Mannie which I expect to send along to Benton at the same time that this one goes out.

Jany. 3rd Sunday.

I have had no time to write you before. On New Years Day, we were very busy with the races + trials of strength + feats of agility. I ran in the smoking race + did not win it + also started in the mile race, but found it too cold on my face + so at the end of the quarter I stopped. The day passed off very well indeed and although it was very cold, still the excitement kept us moving about pretty lively. Denny had started down to Fort Kipp the evening before, to get our letters and bring them up as soon as possible. He did not make his appearance tho’ until dark this evening (Jany. 1st) + when he came he brought sad tidings – Wilson + Baxter two men stationed at Fort Kipp had come up to camp on leave + had started for Kipp again in the afternoon about 2 o’clock, had not yet arrived or at least Wilson had been found on the prairie, half frozen + Baxter not found at all. Their horses had however both come in. while I was preparing to go down, to see if I could do anything for him an Indian came in with a letter stating that Wilson was dead. However the Col. told me to go on + perhaps Baxter might be found + possibly I might be able to help him. So I got this Indian to go down with me, and wrapping up well I got on the Col.’s horse and started it was now quite dark + blowing fairly cold, cloudy so that we could see no stars + cold whew! it was cold. I was told not to spare horseflesh and we continued down 17 miles without drawing rein. We spoke not a word, but 3 times, once when his horse got on some glass ice, + slipped. I told him to take care, he laughed, and we proceeded on our way, again he made some sign to me by which I understood the river was off to the left, and a third time, he pointed to the north + made some signs + then whipped up his horse to full speed, I did the same, + we flew along, within a minute such a storm of wind and snow broke upon us, everything became dark and the cold was intensified to a terrible degree, I was afraid I would lose my guide and spurred up, + altho’ I could hear him I could not see anything, my foot touched his and still I could not see him – finally, we both got so cold that almost intuitively we both got down and began to run – about 8.30 we saw sparks from the chimney of the fort + in a minute or two we were within the enclosure. How thankful I was to again be in safety I cannot tell you. Imagine it yourself, I was determined to go there even if I had to go alone, as atfirst I thought I was to, I had your little book along, and it seemed to me as tho’ I could feel it warming my heart, it appeared to fill me with a blessed assurance of safety, such as I had never before felt. Except that time on the prairie alone. I was sorry to hear that Baxter had not been found, we set the Indians after, promising rewards should they find him alive or dead. I sat up and read your letter beginning Nov. 23rd, also one from Taida [?] from Uplands + one from Mannie from Savannah. I had brought them down with me having gotten there just as I was starting. In the morning, an Indian came in to say he had found Baxter, dead, about six miles from the Fort and a mile off the road we found the body of the unfortunate man. He was put in the sleigh and about 3 o’clock we arrived in Fort McLeod [sic]. It was found out that these two men had, after leaving our Camp, gone to one of the traders Forts near us and had remained there until dark and then started off in the storm got lost and died. It cast a gloom over our New Year’s festivities. The men were buried today at 4 in the afternoon, it was very cold 18º below zero, + a cold north wind. I hope that I will never again have such a ride. There was something terribly exciting about the ride, the cold wind whistling around us, the bounding of the willing animal beneath me, the strange dreary silence, the dense obscurity, and the sad news + the idea the perhaps I might have a melancholy duty at the end of our ride + in fact the uncertainty – that I would even reach the end alive – all contributed to make the journey exciting and one to be remembered. I fancy this terrible example will render the men more careful about going out at night on these wild prairies alone we did feel some deep anxiety on account of Denny, but for these two fellows we never felt a moment’s uneasiness, leaving us as they did so early in the afternoon. I expect that I will never be called on again to have such a ride. So old woman don’t be anxious about me, I am alright, and even had I started alone I feel assured that I would have reached Fort Kipp in safety. There is talk of sending in a mail from here in a few days. I do not know of any other opportunity just yet. This was not such a large mail as I expected it would have been, but all things in this Country are magnified to an extraordinary amount.