March 11th

Conrad's horses came in yesterday, late in the afternoon and brought me one paper, The Nation. Of course I was proportionately disappointed for I fully expected to hear again from you. Col. MacLeod has determined [?] go in tomorrow to [?] on business. The business I think is to [?] out a [?] for furnishing [?] the Cypress Hills[.] a large quantity of flour and oats, to be determined next [?] [?], which looks as though somebody was going to their next [?]. I wrote yesterday to Harry Stotesburg & to [?], and also added some lines to a letter to my brother, so I was pretty well occupied, don't you think so? And now I must endeavour to answer you with [?] affection [?] which was the day Baker left here with the [?]

second made a mistake your letter was [?] the 1st of Feb. or the fifth? I am very glad that you had[?] the [?] [?] [?] of no discourse of mine[,] I shall be able to do better than that at least[.] Frank says it is in my own hand I have to be economical with my drawing people as I have only a very little. I suppose that you would not object to my getting into mischef with you as [?] [?] to dislike the idea without you. I really cannot tell you how many pipes I smoke every day. I [?] [?] and calcuate. If a pound of tobacco contains 16 ounces and each ounce 8 drachmas[?], + each smoke contains one drachma and a pound of tobacco lasts me one week[.] Then there will be 128 smokes through the week or about 18 pipes a day. Now[,] if I sleep 8 hours of the twentyfour and[?] am[?] [?] with work which prohibits smoking for four[?] more[?] [?] you will see [?] [?] [?] [?] [?] hours[?] left in [?] those 8 pipes, must come very nearly two pipes an hour. However I may observe here that a pound of tobacco lasts me considerably over a month, which will [?] the average down to a much lower figure. I seldom will smoke before breakfast + do not get breakfast at times until 10 o'clock so don't be frightened. Yes I am a very useful man. I will gaurentee to work at anything for you when you have found out what you want. I forgive[?] Frank, tell him so and heap coals of fire on his head. My watch is now going all night[,] keeps pretty good time[.] I keep it going by the sun [?] it back of [?] fast + on if too low that I had anything to be [?] about? + who the should [?] the blame? I [?] back in defiance You, you, you. Oh I meant to tell you that I have [?] my [?] of Surgeon dated July 6th, but have heard nothing of my increase of pay. You have [?] me you can read my crossed letters. You will now have an opportunity of doing so. It is blowing and storming to day at a great rate[,] one is not able to see more than a hundred yards. Col. Macleod goes in to [?] soon. [P]erhaps not tomorrow on account of the storm. I will add a line or two to this if he [?] [?] [?] than tomorrow. So for the present I will say goodbye. With love, I am your Barrie.

No time to add more. Many many thanks for your kind present and your photo. It goes 'round with me now everywhere. The [?] have informed “Col. MacLeod that [?] arrangements have been made for the provision[?] of the Force.

Your own, Barrie.

Fort Macloed March 10 1875

My Dear Lizzie,

Last Monday, i.e. March 8th I footed(?) a letter to you. It has not [?] gotten outside [?] [?] of the Fort. About 10 o'clock the same morning a band of horses were seen coming over the hill. [?] were daily [?] horses from Sun River. Baker [?] horses for [?] and with [?]. Mail was expected every day. Who was it? Indians? A huge[?] crowd soon collected in front of the fort. Glasses of [?] form were all leveled in the direction of the coming strangers. Conjecture was rife. Betting was high. The horses rapidly approaching, some of our men at work on a bridge about [?] quarter of a mile from the fort. [?] their work and ran promiscuously[?] towards the new comers. [?] hearts [?] high. Some [?] [?] Maj. Walsh. [?] decieved if our suspense culminated in the heart [?] fact that the horses were for us from Sun River. Was there any mail? The horses came nearer, nearer, within a speaking distance. [?] Cochrane in charge. The question shouted ouy to him Have you any Mail? The answer came back, no. Another disappointment to add to our long list of previous ones. However he told us that he had left our mail at Fort Kipp, which was coming along in a wagon. [? shouts of joy and exaltating. How many anxious eyes kept close watch upon the distant prairie horizon. How many wary hearts ached to hear from the loved ones at home, and now [?] high with hope. Finally the wagon came in sight. The crowd which had been distracted by the horses in a moment rushed [?] of the [?] anxious joyful turbulent. In half an hour the mail had come. 11.48am. Mar 8th 1875. A day to be marked [?] a [?] stoned in my calendar. I managed to get [?] to [?] room when the letters were being distributed and got my [?]. There were 3 large bags full, over 300lbs of mail [?]. I got letters from you. Those that were set to Dufferin + Garry and the [?] that was one began on the 8th of February just one month before I recieved it. [?] received a quantity of papers, mails, notorious[?] practitioners[?], [?], as wll as some [?] papers. How am I ever to be sufficiently thoughtful to your kind thoughtful [?] + Jack willingly taken trouble for me. I immediately sat down and found the last letter you wrote, found you were well + then read your letters in reverse order as regards dates then found some letters from home I sat there [?] afternoon reading your letters, and the evening found me still busy. I could not finish all that night. On Tuesday morning I began again and by lunch time had [?] I had 48 letters! I have managed to glance at the papers but have not looked into them [?]. [?] found in [?] [?] the [?] folks and today I am writing to you. I hardly know what is in your letters do not know if you have asked me many questions or not I am so taken up with the [?] idea of your doing well and that for the time being was all I cared for. I shall take your letters of one each day and [?] and answer your questions. There is another [?] [?] of letters Conrad expects teams out from Benton + [?] there will also come other + later letters. [?] never [?] but [?] [?]. I am happy [?]. I can look [???]. Besides the mail there is little or nothing to talk about. Brooks is far better and stronger than he has been [?]. He too received a letter from home and has written one in answer. His grandmother has been very ill but is now or when she wrote quite well. I have learned [?] [?] [?] + had the [?] [?] with it. I shall proceed to answer your letter of the 8th [?]. Your letters friends to me? friends, no, not friends but something [?] closer than any friend, they are part of myself or they are reflections of your own pure warm heart and are dearer than any friend. I have not been taking my Sunday evening walk very regularly and my mind goes back to the 8th of february with [?] - I do not think i did- on Tuesday morning I was quite well thank you but [?] if it was not 11 when you were writing it could not have been quite [?] and most probably I was just getting up. The sick call is at nine and I have to bein the Hospital then. What [?] were you [?], it was evidently in the opera house, but on what occasion, [?] you have [?] [?] in one of our friends letters, and I did not notice it. I am glad you enjoyed it so Mrs. [?] was [?]. Poor thing! I hope she managed to get warm before the evening was over. My dear child I am exceedingly sorry that the thought of me should interfere in any way with your [?]. [?] not for [?] [?] [?] that I ever doubt any thing you do. [?] a fall and not [?] because you think I would find cause for doubt! Child you should not do that. [?] [?] [?] you dance and enjoy yourself as much as possible. Don't you be so [?] again. I would never forgive myself if I thought I prevented your dancing.

Capt. [?] received his discharge from the force. [?] is also [?] reported here/the report comes from Winnipeg that he's now Lord [?] and has an enourmous fortune. I hope for his wife's sake it [?] [?] [?]. I have not received the paper with the sketch of the ball. Perhaps it may be coming along in Conrad's [?]. From all the talk of fish I suppose you must have founded an aquarium in your conservatory, but how you manage to get catfish into it I do not understand. I am sorry to hear that Bessie(?) Cameron is sick. I hope [?] then that she was quite [?]. Poor Mannie, I sincerely hope that the abcess in his head will proove nothing serious. I really cannot[?] see the [?]in his [?] Dr.Cameron on the [?] [?], if he had it slang[?] [?] his [?] or [?] in his back or even fancied on his hat, one might say there was some concern, but where else would you have him put it? I am [?] of your way of thinking about Miss [?] Taylor, but I do not know for what reason. I am quite prepared to think [?] + everything [?] bad of Mr.[?] but if any one asked me why, I should feel exceedingly puzzled to give a satisfactory answer. I think [?] I have answered [?] [?], no question has been before unanswered, and for the present I must leave you. The mail closes tonight and I have one or two official letters to send and wish to write to Harry [?] [?] and another letter home. Give my love to all at home. Tell Jack I will write to him by the next opportunity. I find that I am greatly in his debt. Wish ever so much love.

I am your own Barrie.

Mar. 8th

It is a lovely morning. The sun shines bright and warm + the wind blows fresh from the mountains. I have gotten up early this morning to finish this letter to you. The Mail closes to day at 9 o’clock Glen expects to be in Benton in ten days, he goes by the upper road so [?] to [?][?] every night. The fresh [?] this morning was the advert[?] of half a dozen Indians with [?][?]. One a woman with a terrible hand her constitution[?] all broken[?] down, and suffering dreadfully. I washed the hand + examined it but am still in doubt. I may yet have to amputate it, the others were [?] ailments and easily dealt with. So you see I am becoming a successful practitioner amongst the [?] savages. And I think too they all like me for I am gentle + thoughtful of their feelings[?] just as tho’ they were white civilized people. And they, I think, appreciate kindness as much as any one. When I go to their[?] [?] today[?] they gave me a smoke always and talk and laugh away in the happiness [?]. And any[?] little thing[?] they want[?] done they come to me to get it[?] done for these. I have the same old story. No Mail. No one knows what is the reason[?] but [?][?] conjectures are afloat which becomes more and more varied[?] as each day passes without [?] its arrival. I must now say Good bye Give my love to all at home. Remember me kindly to Mr. Allison[?] + [?]. Tell Mannie I wrote to him by the last Mail but one. When[?] does your birthday come, some day this month. I wish you many many happy returns of[?] it[?]. [?]. With much love, I am

Your own

Barrie

Mar. 7th

The party did not return until after dinner this evening + are pretty well tired out, and of course unsuccessful. Meanwhile, we at the Fort had not been idle, during the night an Indian dance [?] [?][?] the hearth of one of the braves and cutting a hot[?] [?] their wigwam[s?]. He watches his wife and [?] his [?] close to his head[?]. there was no one in the wigwam at the time but Indians + they were[?] afraid to [?] out for fear they should get shot, etx, [?] [?] [?] escaped. The police or what was left of them [?] after him, + sooner or later will get him. I was told by Col. MacLeod to go and inspect the body of the unfortunate[?] squaw, but they had already buried her and I did not think it worthwhile to go and disturb her. Poor thing. I do not think she was much to blame that [?][?] upon her husband who was always[?][?][?] her to [?][?] at the dances, in order that he might [?] the blankets etc which they gave her, and then he had [?] her [?] away with him, his ill gotten [?][?] her [?] her with a miserable [?], + then came back + shot her. After all this[?] is a pretty wild[?] country. And now I must say Good night.

Mar 6th

There is one piece of good news to tell you and that is that a Mail is to leave here for Benton next Monday. The bearer of this mail is none other that the illustrious John Glen[?] mentioned in ‘From Ocean to Ocean’ as the “typical man”. He is or will not be alone this time, he has brought his wife with him, a pretty little Cree Halfbreed from Fort Edmonton. He is not prospecting now for gold digging, but is back[?] from accumulating the filthy [?] by selling vegetables, butter etc to any who will buy. So you will I hope, before very long get another letter from me. We cannot tell if the letters sent by Baker ever reached Benton, perhaps he was killed on the prairies and the letters [?] scattered to the wind storms. Not a soul has been out here from Benton since our last Mail arrived. It has been blowing hard all day and the wind now is howling outside [?] beating against the house whistling through the many cracks + crevices of our humble homes + [?] mimic [?] of dust upon the floor. Everything in the room after being [?] [?]for two or three minutes becomes grey with dust. The lamps flicker + tremble with a [?] [?] lighten and the mud[?] drops at frequent intervals with a [?] [?] [?] upon the floor. Happy are we if it misses our heads. While I was sitting here quietly writing 8 or 10 men have taken it into their heads to desert. A party is just starting out in pursuit. But my opinion is that they might just as well stay at home. It is very problematical if they catch them, still more problematical if then they can force them back and extremely doubtful what we can do with them when they are brought back. They have been lured away by the tales of the traders about us, of golden visions of high [?] in [?] of the gold diggings. + a general feeling of dissatisfaction with their position[?] pay and work here. I near expect to see them here again. However I must now say Good night it is very late.

Mar. 5th

Nothing going on to day. I made out a table of the temperatures for February. It was above zero most of the time. Welch is going away for a week on leave, he starts tomorrow. I think he does not intend to go far, but merely wishes to break the weary monotony of Barrack life. I went up this afternoon to the Indian Camp to see the sick woman. She was ever so much better. I took a sketch of an [?] of a wigwam not very good but something like [?] the old cry No Mail. Surely something must have happened to the man.

Mar. 4th

The trial of the whiskey trader came off this morning. It was distinctly proven that he was trading the article + he was fined 200°° + 3 months imprisonment. I also gave evidence touching the death the death of Spanish[?] Joe. I made, I suppose, the first Post Mortem Examination in these parts. The murder took place during a drunken brawl, + was committed by a man who has the reputation of being the most tenderhearted man in the world. He is also the one we were trying to catch for trading whiskey, but in our present[?] crippled and disabled condition without horses, we could not follow him. Denny came home this afternoon from his mountain trip, he had a very hard time indeed, without blankets. It stormed nearly the whole time he was away + he did not get a shot or even see any game. He had to stay for two days and two nights in an Indian Camp, feeding and sleeping with them. He describes them as being very hospitable freely and gladly giving him of their best, but says they are filthy and that he never wishes to live with them. The same cry of No Mail, we still hope, but in a more saddened manner. I had several Indians as patients to day, one a poor squaw with inflammation of the lungs. I also took a sketch of a buck who came into my room. I must now say Good night.