A Trip To Manitoba Part 2

One very hot Sunday, when we were without a servant, I rashly left our joint of roast beef on the kitchen table, while we discussed the pudding.

Suddenly an ominous noise was heard. "Oh, Miss F----!" exclaimed my hostess, starting up, "Do stop that dog! The wretch has stolen the beef--_all_ to-morrow's dinner!"

To rush out of the house and over the prairie after the brute was the work of an instant; not so to catch him. On I ran, urged to redoubled exertions by Mrs. C----, who pursued me, excitedly flouris.h.i.+ng her table napkin, while her little girl scrambled after her, screaming at being left behind. Every now and then the dog would stop to take breath, sitting still with aggravating coolness till I almost touched him, when off he would start again, at redoubled speed. At last, after wildly throwing two or three handfuls of stones at him and all the sticks I could pick up as I pa.s.sed, I aimed furiously at the barracks and hit the dog on the head, when he dropped the beef, and I returned, hot and breathless, but triumphant.

The days were sultry, but the nights cool enough to make a blanket necessary, except just before the frequent thunderstorms. Well might the Indians call the province "Manitoba" (G.o.d speaking), in their awe of the Great Spirit whose voice alone is so terrible. October is the most beautiful month in that region, bright, clear, and balmy--the true Indian summer, with cool, dewy nights, when the aurora sent its long streaks of white and red light from the horizon to the zenith, to fall again in a shower of sparks, each night more beautiful than the last. Till, early in November, a storm of rain, succeeded by snow and frost, ended our Indian summer, and in forty-eight hours we had winter. Not weeks of slushy snow, changeable temperature, chilling rains, and foggy skies, as in Ontario, but cold, frosty, bracing winter at once. By the end of November the river was blocked, the boats had stopped running, and our only communication with the outside world was by means of the daily stage. But the wretchedness of a journey over the prairie to the nearest railway station was only encountered by those whose business made it unavoidable.

Before navigation had quite ceased, a provincial exhibition of the agricultural and other products of the country was held in the town-hall.

Many of the vegetables were so large, that a description of them was treated with incredulity until some specimens were sent to Ottawa, to be modelled for the Philadelphia Centennial Exhibition. One Swedish turnip weighed over thirty-six pounds; some potatoes (early roses and white) measured nine inches long and seven in circ.u.mference; radishes were a foot and a half long and four inches 'round; kail branched out to the size of a currant bush; cabbages, hard, white, and good, grew to a foot and a half in diameter, and there were cauliflowers as large.

Neither Indian corn, melons, nor tomatos were exhibited, chiefly because most of the farmers in Manitoba have cultivated wheat-growing rather than market-gardening, as the former brings in the largest returns for the least labour.

Corn is grown in Manitoba larger and far taller than any I saw in Ontario. Tomatos will grow in profusion in a dry spot, especially where, as in Kuwatin, a hundred miles from Winnipeg, a southern exposure on sandy soil can be found; the same may he said of melons. Fruit trees are most difficult to cultivate, the frosts being so severe. Yet with care that obstacle may be overcome, and a few apples, grown and ripened in Mr.

Bannatyne's garden, in Winnipeg, were exhibited. Every other kind of garden and farm produce was shown in abundance. The prairie soil is so rich that it yields a hundredfold, and the absence of the great preliminary labour of "clearing," which the early settlers in Ontario had to contend with, renders it a most advantageous country for emigrants.

The chief difficulty is the scarcity of labour. All men not going out to take up land for themselves are employed on the railway; and women either are married and obliged to work on the farms with their husbands, or get married before they have been long in Manitoba. Many were the complaints I heard from people who had taken out female servants, paying their expenses and giving them high wages, only to lose them before they had been a month in the province. Their sole resource then was to employ Icelanders, who often could not speak a word of English, so that all directions had to be given by pantomime. Any one seeing the strange gesticulations and frantic efforts of some of the more energetic mistresses might be excused for thinking himself let loose in a city of lunatics.

Mrs. C---- had one of these Icelanders as nursemaid, and she did very well, picking up enough English in a few weeks to understand all we wanted. But I noticed that, however quickly she walked about the rest of the house, the stairs were as carefully traversed as though she had been an Indian. One day, hearing her in great distress on the kitchen stairs, I went to see what was the matter. The staircase was a narrow one between two walls, but without banisters; on the third or fourth step from the top sat one of the children, aged four years, and a few steps below stood the maid clinging to the smooth wall, her face white with terror as, whenever she attempted to advance, the child made a feint to oppose her pa.s.sage and push her back. Afraid either to turn round or retreat backwards, she stood trembling and calling for help, and it was impossible to avoid feeling amused at the absurdity of that big girl being intimidated by such a mite--who, with the original depravity of human nature, was enjoying the fun.

A friend of mine went through some odd experiences with these Iceland maids. Upon the arrival of a fresh domestic she was ordered to wash down the hall and door-steps. Next day, at the same hour, while a party of visitors were in the drawing-room, the door burst open, and Christian, scrubbing-pail and brush in hand, plumped down on her knees in the middle of the floor, and went through a vigorous pantomime of scrubbing. Her mistress was too astonished to speak for a moment or two, until the girl, surprised at her silence, looked up, uttering an indescribable "Eh?" of anxious inquiry, which was well-nigh too much for the gravity of her listeners.

Often, after ten minutes' patient endeavour to explain something, one was rewarded by a long drawn out "Ma'arum?" infinitely trying to one's patience. Yet, in time, they often make excellent servants, and many people prefer them to Ontario or English emigrants. And certainly in point of economy they are infinitely superior to both; for not only will an Iceland maid waste nothing, but she is content with five or six dollars a month in wages (1 5s. or 1 10s.), while girls from Ontario or England expect nine or ten dollars. Servants taken out on the line of railway demand and receive from fifteen to thirty dollars (3 15s. to 7 10s.) a month. These exorbitant wages are, however, lessening as immigration increases.

Society at Winnipeg is very pleasant; composed chiefly of the old families who formed the Hudson Bay Company and their descendants, many of whom have Indian blood in their veins. Their education, carefully begun by their parents, is often completed in Scotland, and they are well-read, intelligent people, as proud of their Indian as of their European descent. Many of them are handsome and _distingue_-looking. Their elegant appearance sometimes leads to awkward mistakes. One of these ladies, meeting a young Englishman fresh from the old country, and full of its prejudices, was entertained by him with reflections on race, and condolences at having to a.s.sociate with half-castes. At last he inquired how long she had been in the country? Making him a stately curtsy, she answered--

"All my life! _I_ am one of these despised half-breeds," and instantly left him. She said afterwards she was sorry for the poor fellow's discomfiture; but he brought it upon himself by disregarding all her efforts to change the conversation.

When younger sons of good families are sent to seek their fortunes in the New World, their social standing is not fixed by their occupation, and a man who has served behind a counter all day is as well received in a drawing-room as one who has sat on the bench or pleaded a case in court.

Of course in such a state of society impostors often effect an entrance, and their detection makes their entertainers chary of strangers afterwards. But so long as a man behaves himself like a gentleman he is treated as one. Many officials, sent by the Canadian Government temporarily to fill responsible posts, and officers whose regiments have been disbanded, remain in Winnipeg, preferring it to any other part of Canada, and ill.u.s.trating the adage, "He who once drinks of the Red River water cannot live without it." It is a very muddy stream, however, and not at all inviting as a beverage.

A great many visitors, chiefly Englishmen, go to Manitoba for the shooting and fis.h.i.+ng, which are excellent. A friend of mine last year bagged four hundred ducks, several geese, great numbers of partridges, loons, and as many hares as he would waste shot on in a fortnight's holiday. No doubt, when Manitoba and its capabilities become better understood, and the line of railway is completed, the number of tourists in search of sport will much increase.

How little the new province has been known hitherto the following fact will show. A letter for me, mailed in a county town in England, in September, and merely addressed to Winnipeg, Manitoba, omitting Canada, travelled to France, where it received sundry postmarks, and such sensible hints by the post-office officials as, "Try Calcutta." At last, some one better acquainted with the geography of this side of the globe added, "Nouvelle Amerique," and my letter reached me, _via_ New York, in Christmas week, richly ornamented with postmarks, and protests from officials that it "came to them in that condition," tied together with two varieties of string, and frankly exhibiting its contents--a pair of lace sleeves, which, but for the honesty of the mail service, might easily have been abstracted.

CHAPTER VI.

Winter Amus.e.m.e.nts--A Winnipeg Ball--Forty Degrees below Zero--New Year's Day--Saskatchewan Taylor--Indian Compliments--A Dog train--Lost in the Snow--Amateur Theatricals--Sir Walter Raleigh's Hat--A Race with the Freshets--The Ice moves--The First Steamer of the Season--Good-bye to Winnipeg.

Snow lay several inches thick on the ground at Christmas, and we had sleigh drives over the smooth white prairie, one great advantage of Manitoban winters being that when once the ground is covered with snow, if only to the depth of five or six inches, it remains, and there is good sleighing until the frost breaks up in March or April. Sleighing parties are varied by skating at the rink and a.s.semblies in the town-hall, where we meet a medley of ball goers and givers, each indulging his or her favourite style of dancing--from the old fas.h.i.+oned "three-step" waltz preferred by the elders, to the breathless "German," the simple _deux temps_, and the graceful "Boston" dance, peculiar as yet to Americans and Canadians. The band was composed of trained musicians who had belonged to various regiments, and, on receiving their discharge, remained in Canada. The hall was well lighted, the floor in good condition, and we enjoyed taking a turn upon it, as well as watching the Scotch reels, country dances, and Red River jigs performed by the others.

It was a gay and amusing scene, but the heavy winter dresses--many of them short walking costumes--worn by the Manitoban belles, looked less pretty than the light materials, bright colours, and floating trains of an ordinary ball-room. The absence of carriages and cabs, and the intensity of the cold, compelled ladies to adopt this sombre attire. The mercury averaged from ten to twenty degrees below zero, frequently going as low as thirty-three, and occasionally into the forties; yet the air is so dry and still, that I felt the cold less when it was thirty-three degrees below zero in Winnipeg than when only five degrees below in Ottawa, and did not require any additional wraps.

On New Year's Day the now old-fas.h.i.+oned custom of gentlemen calling was kept up, and we had many visitors, among them the American Consul, Mr.

Taylor, known in the Consulate as "Saskatchewan Taylor," from his interest in the North-West and anxiety upon all occasions to bring its capabilities before the public. He came in the evening, and, following the American style, remained more than an hour, so that we were able to get beyond the conventional topics of health and weather, and found him very pleasant and entertaining.

During the afternoon the maid came in, looking rather flurried, and said that visitors in the kitchen wished to see us. Going there, we were greeted by seven Indians and their squaws, come to pay a New Year's visit. As I looked at their brown faces and long, loose hair, memories of stories told by cousins in the Hudson Bay Company's service, of having to kiss all the squaws on New Year's Day, sent the blood with a rush back to my heart; but, happily, this ceremony was dispensed with. Only one of the party could speak English--a handsome, clear-skinned, straight-featured Indian, in blue blanket coat, red sash, leggings, and gaily-decorated hat. He stepped forward and made a little speech, wis.h.i.+ng us "A long life of many moons, suns.h.i.+ne, health, and rich possessions, and the smile of the Good Spirit upon the blue-eyed papoose;" finis.h.i.+ng by shaking hands all round. The others, with an "Ugh!" of acquiescence, and smiling faces, followed his example. Our hostess was unable to give them wine or whisky, because of the stringent prohibitory laws, but she regaled them on great slices of cake, with which they were much pleased. When Mr. C---- came in from the line with his dog-train--four strong beasts drawing a light cariole or covered tobogan, more like a great shoe than anything else--the blue and red coat of his Indian runner, Tommy Harper, was much admired by our visitors; and he told us afterwards of their admiration for everything they saw in the house. This Tommy was a good-tempered old fellow, but, when not running, was invariably asleep or smoking over the kitchen fire.

About the middle of January (1877) we had a terrible snow-storm, the worst that had been known in Manitoba for years. At five o'clock in the evening the wind rose suddenly, and in half an hour was blowing a gale, sending the snow whirling through the air in such blinding volume, that it was impossible to distinguish anything twenty yards off. As night closed in, which it does early at that season, the storm increased in violence, and although there was then little snow falling, the wind drove in all directions the dry snow lying upon the ground.

Many people lost their way. A shop-boy running home to tea, only round the corner of the block, missed the turning into the gateway, and wandered till daylight on the prairie, knowing it was certain death to lie down. A family crossing the prairie, and seeing the storm approaching, hastened to reach a wayside inn four or five hundred yards distant, but before they could do so lost sight of it. After driving several hours they were obliged to stop; and digging a hole in the snow with their hands, covered themselves with robes and sleigh-rugs, and drawing the sleigh over them as a little protection from the wind, they waited until daylight--to find themselves within a hundred yards of the inn! All next day stories were continually reaching us of narrow escapes, of frozen feet and hands, of lost horses, frozen oxen, and travellers'

miseries in general. But this certainly was an exceptional storm, or "blizzard," as the natives say.

Towards the end of winter it was proposed that some _tableaux_ should be exhibited in the town-hall for the benefit of a local charity.

The suggestion was hailed with delight, and every one likely to be useful was invited to "talk it over" with Mrs. C----. And talk they did, at such length and with such vivacity, that I wondered how the two stage-managers, Captain H---- and Miss P----, could ever evolve order from such a chaos.

The great clatter of tongues in that small room reminded me of an old Scotch nurse of ours, who, being summoned to keep house for a minister cousin, was anxious first to learn how to play the lady and entertain her guests. The cook advised her to listen at the drawing-room door when we had a party: but she quitted her post in disgust, having heard nothing but "a muckle clackit."

At last it was settled that the _tableaux_ were to represent the story of "Beauty and the Beast," "Elizabeth knighting Raleigh," scenes from "Hamlet" and "The Bohemian Girl," an emblematic group of the nations included in the British Empire, surrounded by representatives of the army and navy, and some well-known statues. a.s.suredly there was variety enough in our programme to suit all tastes!

Our dress rehearsal, held in the old church before mentioned, was more amusing--to the actors, at all events--than the performance itself. The "sides," which looked well enough to those without, proved a delusion and a snare to those within. They were used as dressing-rooms, but their part.i.tion from the stage being only partial, and their flooring stopping far short of the front, a great gap was left--a pitfall down which everything tumbled. Their appointments were primitive, consisting of a small looking-gla.s.s, a pincus.h.i.+on, and a piece of comb in each room. The "properties" on the ladies' side were an old straw bonnet wreathed with artificial flowers, and a gaudy overskirt; and on that of the gentlemen, two hats, and a pistol and tin mug--which had probably done duty for the "dagger and the bowl," in the last scene of a dreadful tragedy. Some of our amateurs were fortunate enough to get complete costumes made, but others appeared in a fragmentary condition, with a bodice of the time of Elizabeth, and a petticoat of that of Victoria. Sir Walter Raleigh wore the old felt hat belonging to his dressing-room, and pathetically appealed to the spectators to imagine it adorned with a white feather and jewelled clasp.

The girls who appeared in more than one scene had to change their dresses, and it is impossible to describe the confusion of belongings then thrown in a vast heap on the floor, or the despair of one young performer whose polonaise had disappeared in the gulf. As all were in different stages of _deshabille_, no gentleman could be called to the rescue; so I lay down on my face and groped about with my hands till I fished it up. But before I succeeded, two or three people were standing on my skirts, and a pile of gipsy costumes was deposited on my legs. My rising sent dismay to the owners' hearts, and they wailed that they would "never be able to find their things again!"

When the great night arrived we, by means of jewellery constructed of gold paper and gla.s.s b.u.t.tons, and other ingenious devices, made a brilliant show, and the general effect was p.r.o.nounced excellent. We had crowded houses for _two_ consecutive nights, and the only drawback to the pleasure of our _tableaux_ was the sad and sudden death of one of Captain H----'s children, which took place on the first night, and aroused general sympathy.

Soon after our theatrical entertainments the snow almost entirely disappeared, cricket was played on the prairie, and people began to look forward to the reopening of navigation, and to bet actively on the day and hour when the first steamboat would arrive; though the ice was still so solid that horse-races were held on the river.

The 20th of April was a warm day, succeeding heavy rains, and it was hoped that the ice would move next day. In the evening we were at our a.s.sembly in the town-hall, which is built on the side of a broad, shallow _coole_, or gully. About ten o'clock, seeing several people look anxiously from the windows, we went to inquire the cause, and found the "water was out." Freshets from the prairies were rus.h.i.+ng down the _coole_ beneath, carrying everything before them--dog-kennels, logs, broken furniture, boxes, and all the usual _debris_ found scattered about the houses on the prairie. The freshets increased so rapidly, that it was feared if we did not leave at once we should never get home, the water being level with the bridge, which was in imminent danger of being carried away. The lower story of the hall was also flooded, and considered scarcely safe. So there was cloaking in hot haste, and the gentlemen who lived near brought all the top-boots and goloshes they could collect for the benefit of those who had to cross the partially submerged roads.

The ice did move next day, and on the 27th, at the sound of the steamboat whistle, I ran to the window. As if by one impulse, every door on the main street opened, and the inmates poured forth, men putting on their coats, women their bonnets, while holding the kicking, struggling bare-headed babies they had s.n.a.t.c.hed up in their haste to reach the landing as soon as the boat; boys of all sizes, ages, and descriptions, gentle and simple, rich and poor, mustered as though by magic. In five minutes the streets and banks of the river were black with people rus.h.i.+ng to meet the steamer, and the shout that greeted her at the wharf was loud and genuine. It was the last time her arrival caused such excitement, as before another season the railway was running to St. Boniface, and freight and pa.s.sengers could get to Winnipeg all through the winter.

The spring of 1877 was wet and backward, and we looked forward to our journey out to the contract, where a house was nearly ready for us, with anything but unmixed pleasure. In the hope that the state of the roads might improve, we delayed our departure until the first week in June. For my own part, I rejoiced over every additional delay, as I was loth to leave Winnipeg, and the many kind friends I had made there.

CHAPTER VII.

A Manitoban Travelling-carriage--The Perils of Short Cuts--The Slough of Despond--Paddy to the Rescue!--"Stick-in-the-Mud" and his Troubles--McQuade's--An Irish Welcome--Wretched Wanderers.

After many days of packing, general confusion, and disturbing dust, culminating in breakfast in the kitchen, dinner on a packing-case in the parlour, high tea at a neighbour's in our travelling-gear, and a night at the hotel, we rose at five o'clock on the morning of the 5th of June to be ready for our journey to Clear Water Bay. All the teams, with the household goods and chattels, had started the day before, except two for personal baggage, and the one we were to occupy.

Of course we were ready too soon, and hours were spent in standing idly about, and going to the gate to see if the trams were coming. When they were at last packed and off, it was decided to be altogether too late for us to follow until after luncheon which with only an uncertain prospect of a heavier meal later, we turned into dinner. Then some one remembered half a dozen forgotten things which it was impossible to do without, and it was nearly four o clock when our waggon arrived--a springless vehicle with three narrow seats, and drawn by two broken winded steeds.

After packing all our _impedimenta_ in the waggon there was literally no room for us. What was to be done? Between our efforts to make the driver, a stupid, tipsy French half-breed, understand English by screaming it as loud as we could, the variety of our baggage, and the curiosity of the pa.s.sers by, we soon had a small crowd of interested listeners and apparently sympathizing friends. Finally the livery stable keeper made his appearance, and after some discussion agreed to exchange that waggon for a larger one. Jumping into it, he lashed the horses, who went at a furious pace down the street, proving their powers, but, alas, scattering the half packed contents of the waggon--rugs, cus.h.i.+ons, blankets, tin kettles, and pails--at irregular intervals over the road.

In half an hour a larger vehicle was brought, and we hastily repacked, receiving contributions of our property from every one who pa.s.sed while the operation was going on, so that it was late in the afternoon before we left Winnipeg. When we arrived at the river, of course the ferry-boat was on the opposite side, and we had to wait for its return, which seemed the climax to the day's worries. We growled audibly, feeling that we were ent.i.tled to do so, having had enough provocation to ruffle the most angelic tempers. With scarcely room to sit, and nowhere, to speak of, to put our feet, bodily discomfort helped to put us out of humour.

Can you imagine a three-seated waggon, containing a load of valises, travelling-bags, a tin box of edibles for a week's journey, tents, blankets, pans, kettles, pails, a box of earth filled with bedding plants, a bundle of currant bush slips, a box of cats--being _the_ cat and five kittens--a box of family silver, engineers' instruments, wraps of every description, provender for the horses, a bag of bread, the driver's own provisions (it was part of the bargain that he was to "find"

himself), loose articles of all kinds, thrown in at the last moment, five adults, two children, one small dog and an unhappy-looking canary? This motley a.s.semblage was stowed away as well as possible, the kettles and pails being hung at the back and sides, after the fas.h.i.+on of the travelling tinkers' carts. There certainly was a very emigrant-like appearance about the whole thing, in spite of the tasteful tr.i.m.m.i.n.g of our shade hats.

The ferry-boat came for us at last, and as we drove over the prairie at a moderate rate, delays having become things of the past, we were for the next hour almost merry. This transient joy was soon dispelled by our driver, who, without any warning, turned off the road through some swampy ground. Pulling up suddenly before an apparently unbroken line of trees, he craned his neck first one way and then the other in search of an opening, unheeding the expostulations in French and English with which he was a.s.sailed, until, finding what he sought, and nicking his whip over the horses' ears, he condescended to reply, "_Je fais le detour!_ Bad, _voila!_" Then, urging his horses on, he charged into the bushes, and drove along what had been once a cart trail (one could hardly call it a road), overgrown with underbrush. Long branches met overhead, and we were kept busy, alternately warding them, off our faces and holding on to our seats--for the track was a succession of uneven hills, hollows, and short turns, with which our driver seemed as unacquainted as ourselves.

About six o'clock we came to the high-road, which crossed the end of our track--the highroad that has cost our country over thirteen million dollars--the far-famed and much-talked-of Dawson road. It was some two feet higher than our rough track, and separated from it by a large mud puddle, in which, after a lurch to one side and a violent jerk from the horses, the waggon-wheels sank on the other. A volley of oaths was discharged by our half-breed, followed by a crack of his long whip, and a sharp struggle, and then the near horse fell back on his haunches and we stuck fast. Down rolled the best valise, out sprang Jehu, carrying with him into the mud our biggest blanket. Mr. C----, in slippers, sat on the top of the waggon demanding his boots, which where _somewhere_ at the bottom; somebody else was searching wildly for a rope and axe, which proved to be _nowhere_; everybody was giving a different opinion on the best means of extricating ourselves, only uniting in one thing, namely, abuse of the driver, who stood knee-deep in mud, hitching up his trousers and muttering something about _le detour_. We women, meantime, tried to quiet the screaming children, and prevent the "unconsidered trifles" which filled the corners of the waggon from falling out--a duty not unattended with danger, as p.u.s.s.y, on guard over her nursery, and excited by the general _boulevers.e.m.e.nt_, gave a spiteful claw to any foot or hand which approached too near her box.

No rope, axe, nor chain, could be found; there was nothing but mud on every side to unload in, and not a house for miles to shelter us for the night. Fortunately, before very long a waggon pa.s.sed on the high-road, whose occupants were a kindly Irishman, his wife, and child.

"Faith, is it help ye want, yer honour? It's meself never refused help to any man," said Paddy; and jumping down, he produced a chain. Fastening the tongue of the waggon to one end, and the horses to the other, he drove them up to the high-road, where, having firmer foothold, a few pulls drew us out of the mud-hole. We thanked the old man for his help, but saw him and his chain depart with regret. Having better horses and a lighter load, he soon left us far behind.