Chapter
Ten
In spite of all the hardships, intense cold and heat, crop failures and loneliness, there was great beauty in Saskatchewan. Prairie sunsets are something to linger in the memory. A few years ago, I was in northern Saskatchewan for a brief visit. One night, the late evening sky put on a show so spectacular that my friend and I sat watching from her car, perched high on a river bank. It changed every moment, and each change seemed to be more beautiful than the previous phase. It reminded me of times, in my childhood years, when the sunset display looked like the gates into heaven, and I felt myself transported from earthly, mundane things, and wafted up to the very entrance to Paradise!
Now to mention the wild flowers which grew and blossomed in abundance; many, many different varieties. When Spring arrived, and the earliest ones started to bloom, I commenced to list them in my diary. My father told me what they most resembled, going by his knowledge of English wild flowers. Many of them were the same, but some were peculiar to Canada. There was one that resembled the flower of a pea, but on a bean-like stalk; it was many years before I learned their true name – Buffalo Beans. Presumably they had provided food for the huge herds of buffalo which formerly roamed the plains. There were several types and colours of pea-vine. The tiger-lilies bloomed in June just in time for my mother’s birthday, the 18th. Father loved to [44] go out on a Sunday morning, and gather a lovely bouquet of flowers for Mother. There was very little he could give or do for her, to make life gracious or easy, but some of these little, gentle touches proclaimed his continuing love for her.
Some of the flowers I remember were white wood-violets, tiny blue violets, shooting star, lady slippers, and hyacinths which grew in the edges of a slough (they may not have been true hyacinths, but were formed in like manner, and had a very heady perfume as true hyacinths do). Perhaps the most lovely flowers in form, texture and perfume were the wild roses which abounded everywhere in June and July. Some were quite short, growing in the grass, others tall beneath trees; but all delicately scented. Then we had Indian Paint Brush, sage, thyme, mint, spearmint, and Michaelmas daisies in various colours – blue, white, purple and pink. When Mother saw these, she felt sad, for it meant that summer was almost over and the harsh wintertime coming on apace. There were also several types of sunflowers. One tall, large type was a clear yellow right to the centre, and smelled like chocolate. Others had dark brown centres (brown-eyed Susans?). Others were shorter, and very beautiful, really marigolds as I now realize. Then there were bluebells, harebells, honeysuckle in the woods which, after flowering, formed a little oval dish full of red berries. Many more which I now fail to remember, but believe the list amounted to more than fifty varieties.
My poor father, exiled from all he knew and loved in England, was known to say “The flowers here have no perfume, and the birds no song”. This was not strictly true, although there were some elements of truth in it. I have already mentioned some varieties of flowers that had lovely, delicate perfume; but many that resembled English flowers, did not have any.
As to the birds – no doubt, he missed nightingales and other outstanding songsters. A few years ago, I was in England, and was awakened in early mornings by a chorus of unimaginable beauty of harmony (footnote 1). I was told that [45] one of the sweetest melodies came from the throat of a blackbird. It was hard for me to believe! In Saskatchewan, there were untold thousands of blackbirds, and huge flocks would settle in trees, and just screech. In fact, father called it “the brick-works”, as it sounded just like the squeaking chains on the brick-works near his shop “at home”. Then, of course, wood-pigeons monotonous cooing - but there were a few that sang, noticeably the robin (or thrush) with his “Cheer up – cheer up – cheery be cheery”, and one (a meadow lark?) which was supposed to be saying “I was here a year ago”. But after hearing the glorious “Dawn Chorus” in the English countryside, I really can say that Father had a point, for the only other Saskatchewan birds I can recall were chickadees, wrens, sparrows, and swallows – none of them noted for their musical ability. Our most prolific “songsters” were the frogs in Springtime, and being surrounded by sloughs we were serenaded every evening, so loudly and continuously that one became unaware of it; only if the noise ceased did we notice the strange silence.
We did not see many wild animals, but there were plenty about. Other children seemed to observe many more deer than I ever did. They probably had larger stands of trees near their homes, or perhaps I was less observant. But we did see some on occasion. One day, my Aunt was walking home from our place, accompanied by her nephew, Jack Ballard (footnote 2), when they met a big bear. Both were very nervous, and Jack was asking Auntie if she could climb a tree when, just in time, the bear turned and lumbered off. In after years, my husband told me that one of his neighbours had shot a bear. Charles was given some of the meat, also a quantity of the bear-fat which he used for making pies, and declared it was the best pastry he had ever eaten! Mr Price told a story of being served a meal of bear-meat and vegetables. In his lilting Welsh voice, Mr Price declared, “I downed the vegetables, but I couldn’t down the meat”.
There were many
smaller animals – badgers, skunks, groundhogs, and gophers. The latter became
such a problem, eating off vast patches of growing grain, that the government
put a price on them, and paid children a cent per tail delivered in town. I did
not engage in this activity, but [46] one winter had a trapline and managed
to get a few muskrats. I had to skin my own catch, also stretch, and clean the
pelts. It was a nasty thing to have to do, but there were so few ways to earn even
a few cents. Some children went out to dig Seneca root which was used for
making some medicines, by the drug companies. Ukrainian women made quite a lot
of money from that, well, it was a lot by the standards of the time, but just a
miserable pittance considering the hard work. But everyone worked hard and long
hours, so we thought nothing of that.
The most numerous wild animals, except for gophers, were coyotes. They
made the nights hideous, or at any rate weird, with their high-pitched howling.
One would start, others gradually join in, replying, till they seemed to be
coming from all directions. Our dogs joined in too, imitating the wolves' howl,
perhaps conversing with them in canine language.
I have mentioned earlier that the bush teemed with rabbits. There were
jack-rabbits too which were “hares”, much larger than the bush-rabbits, and
could go at incredible speed across open fields. The settlers almost lived on
rabbit-stew at first. Then some form of disease killed them off in great
numbers, and they did not attain such proportions again. The wolves then,
finding their greatest source of food gone, drifted further north so that in
our latter years we did not hear so much of them.
The great herds of buffalo which roamed the prairies in the 1800’s had
been destroyed before ever we arrived, but we did see some of their bleached
bones and horns. A fine set of deer-antlers, which Father found, were polished
and hung in our dining room. Occasionally, a tribe of Indians would cross our
farm, horses and wagons, squaws and papooses, on the way to collect their
treaty money. Father went over to speak to them. One of them had eye-glasses
pushed up onto his forehead, and Father asked him about them, what they were
for. He may have needed them for seeing close-up, but Father had an idea that
he wore them to show his importance. He may have been a chief. He was a
leader as he walked ahead of the tribe, leading the way. What was named “The
old Pelly Trail” ran across the Western side of our quarter section. It came
from Fort Pelly, to the northeast of us, and where it went on to, I do not
know, but probably to Wynyard, which was the county court location.
[47] One morning when I was nine or ten years old, I wakened in the room
Cyril and I shared to find that we had been moved in together during the night,
and a strange boy occupied the other bunk-bed. It seems he had become lost the
previous evening. Father had found him wandering about near our home, brought
him in, and Mother fed him, and put him to bed. His name was David Brown, his
people lived several miles away. They came looking for him that morning, and
were relieved to find him safe and well. We called his father "Washington
Brown" as he came from Washington, but whether state or city, I know not,
to distinguish him from "Old Man Brown", one of the earlier settlers.
In fact, he was there when my uncle and Leonard came. They met him on the train
in 1905, and he persuaded them to get off with him at Invermay instead of going
on to Saskatoon, as planned, where conditions might well have been better, and
the course of all our lives completely different. And all because this man said
this was a good place to take up land. Well, they did pass some very
good land on the way out of Invermay, but kept going until they came to the
southeast quarter of 16, Township 32, Range 8, west of the Second Meridian.
That was our official address. It was taught to me, and I have never forgotten
it. And a very poor quarter it was, all bush and sloughs so that the only
cultivated land was chopped up into little fields between sloughs, and the end
of each field usually dwindled off into an alkali patch where nothing could
grow so the seed was wasted.
Another little lost lad did not fare as well as David Brown. This one was much younger, the third son of Mr. and Mrs. B.W. Tibbitt, previously mentioned. Though many people were out looking for him, he was not found for some time. It may have been two nights that he was out in the bush, and, when at last located, his mind was affected. Jimmy was just a little fellow, and no doubt terribly afraid. He lived at home for a few years, then was placed in a Mental Home where he stayed until his early death. When a third boy became lost, in the 1920’s, a small army of men turned out to hunt for him so afraid they were of the same thing happening; but he was found after one night out, and was quite alright. I think one was a highly strung, sensitive type, and the other more stoical so that they were not affected in the same way.
[48] In the
1940’s just before we came to Victoria, a lady was in town when a bad blizzard
came on, or she may have been on her way home when it began. It was bitterly
cold, visibility zero, and she did not make it. She was found the next day
within a stone's throw of her home, but, not knowing that, had just laid down
and perished. This was near Margo, as by that time my husband and I had moved
up there onto a farm with a well in the yard which supplied an abundance of
good water — a wonderful thing after the years of drought we had endured with
no proper source of water. To this day, I cannot bring myself to waste water,
and it makes me feel badly when I see, or hear, people running it
endlessly for no good reason.
Transcriber’s footnotes:
1. The so-called “dawn chorus”. There is also a “dusk chorus”, which is as beautiful but less well known.
2. I have no record of the Ballards, but perhaps they were related to the McLarens.
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