Feb 20th

Only 8 days more in this month + then comes March + then April, + the summer is then close at hand, + Summer means better communication with civilization, and that means closer to you. This morning I got up pretty early and wrote a few lines to you, + then had my breakfast and after that went to the Hospital + then returned to you. Allen is now getting his horse ready to take these letters to Fort Kipp. After all it may not go, for the weather threatens a storm, + these men never start out in a storm. Trusting that it does go + reaches You in safety I say Goodbye until next time. Give my love to all, I am quite well, even my tooth does not bother me this morning. Once more

Goodbye

Your own

Barrie

Feb 19th

It has been very warm today with a high South West wind. Nothing in particular going on. This afternoon, the Col and I went off about a mile from the Fort and signaled to Denny + Capt Winder who were near the Fort we are going to be great experts in the art. In the evening after dinner Cribbage Casino and [?] [?] course of the evening mimic of a dinner speeches were made, presentations, everything in the room was presented to everyone, + each had to make a reply. It caused some amusement. Our mail did not come after all. I expect that Monday will be the day. I heard to night that a Mail leaves Fort Kipp for Benton tomorrow so I am going to try and send this off. How glad you will be to see it will not you and how glad I will be to hear again from you. I am very tired now of waiting and as the time grows shorter become more and more impatient. I do not think that well [sic] on the march I felt that longing that I now feel to hear from you. Or at all events it is much greater now. Did you receive those sketches I sent to you. I have not taken a great many more, they are hard things to send away. But now it is getting late, and as I want to get up early tomorrow morning and finish this I must say Good night.

Feb. 18th

As space is precious I take advantage of every little bit + do begin my days doings at the bottom of the page. This morning I was up + had my breakfast + a smoke before the sick call sounded which is very unusual. Everything is going on nicely. Brooks is ever so much better and the old Frenchman says “I am glad I came here, they are all good to me, and the little doctor is a smart doctor” So you see I am making an impression on the natives. It was raining again today, only slightly but still, raining. Denny has obtained leave for a couple of weeks and is going up to the mountains to hunt, he will have a splendid time. He is going with some wolfers who are living in a valley so closely shut in and so protected that they have not been cold this winter, and have green grass all winter long. There is said to be beautiful scenery up this river, a waterfall on this river more than 60 ft in height, to say nothing of lake scenery the grandeur of the mountains. I should like very much to go up with him, or at all events to go up in the summer. And what are you doing now? What are you thinking of? Do you remember in Longfellow’s Spanish Student how Victorian wished for a magic mirror, to see Preciosa was doing? I wish for it too. I would not be afraid of all the dreadful things Hypolito was afraid of seeing. Last night after going to bed and finding that I could not sleep, I got a volume of Longfellow and read the Spanish Student. My tooth kept me awake nearly all night and I awakened this morning dull drowsy and feeling tired out. I managed to scald the gum so thoroughly with Carbolic Acid that I stopped the ache, and have been free from it all day, but there is a beautiful feeling of uneasiness, which makes me expect a full grown toothache at any moment. What would I not give for a good pair of tooth forceps + a strong arm. We have had no Mail yet. I still hope that tomorrow night will bring it. Our man left ‘Whoop Up’ on Sunday morning the 7th inst. + allowing him to travel 30 miles a day, the following Sunday would bring him to Benton. He was to get fresh horses there load up + come out. He would be glad to take advantage of the mild weather + would start as soon as possible, so that if he left Benton on Tuesday he ought to be very near us now, he ought to travel more than 30 miles a day, 40 miles at least. So that Saturday or Sunday will infalliably bring him. I think too that he would leave Benton on Monday + not on Tuesday. Dear one how long does it seem to be since I last heard from you, very nearly two months. And now I must say Good night for I am very sleepy. Good night and pleasant happy dreams.

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.

Feb 14th

Alas the day has passed without the looked for letters. The end of the week will doubtless bring them. This morning after breakfast I lanced old Frank’s leg he bore it without moving a muscle and has had marked relief from it. He is quite happy now. The day has been very fine tho’ a little cold. The back bone of the winter is pretty well broken. I have had a good many Indians in my room today, some to talk and some to sketch + others because I could not help them coming in. One was a very fine looking fellow over six feet tall + broad + sinewy, he was very much pleased with my sketch of him + promised to bring me a buffalo robe for it, not because I gave it to him but because he felt flattered. At first I had no intention of giving it to him but afterward I did, and he went away excessively pleased. This evening after dinner while we were sitting around the Mess fire, we heard a great noise of the Indians + going out found they were having a dance at Conrad’s. We went to see them but such a crowd went in that they could not dance + they all went off in a huff. I expect that you were quietly in church just then. I wonder what you are doing now, 10 o’clock? It must be about 12 in Toronto, so I suppose you are sleeping soundly. Dear Dear Lizzie, I do so want to see you again. I am getting awfully tired out here by myself. I wish I could bring you out here, but that would hardly be fair. Anyway, it is useless to wish impossibilities, so that is our end of it. The Mail will tell me something about you + make you feel nearer. Good night.

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.