Canada To-day and To-morrow

by Arthur E. Copping

“My experience of horse-driving in the Old Country stood me in good stead, and in spite of all difficulties, including inclement weather and rough country, we reached Battleford safe and sound, without one mishap, in four and a half days. This was considered very good, and I had a heavy load.

“We remained at Battleford from May 2nd to May 4th, when we resumed our progress to the promised land. This part of the journey was the most trying, with the road terribly rough and the weather bitter. Had it not been for the Government tents, which were set up at appointed stopping-places along the route, many must have died from cold and hunger. My wife and little girl felt the effects of exposure, and by the time we reached the settlement both were thoroughly ill. In fact, we were all worn out from our long journey and the want of rest.

“My first inquiry was for a doctor, who quickly came to our assistance, and of whose kindness I cannot speak too highly. With care, my wife and little one soon recovered. Then my man went down with threatened pneumonia, though the prompt attentions of Dr. Amos saved him from a serious illness.”

Here it will be interesting to recapitulate, from the lady’s point of view, the experiences just briefly narrated.

Under date Friday, April 24th, I read in her diary: “We have now been in Saskatoon since Wednesday evening, and are busy getting all in readiness to trek up to the settlement. We have overtaken Mr. Barr and his party. They are in a huge camp, but the children and I and my husband are in a room. Yesterday I was greatly pleased to see my husband and our fellow-traveller and friend, Mr. Young, come in with smiling faces to say they had secured a splendid pair of horses and a wagon. These are ours, as Mr. Young is not purchasing yet. The children and I went in the afternoon to see our new possessions. The horses are really beautiful animals, strong, powerful, good-looking, in fine condition, and well educated. There is a large covered hood to the wagon, so it will serve as a house for a while. The next bit of good news is that we have had our land allotted to us. . . .

“Sunday, May 2nd. Four and a half days’ trekking through most perilous country! Some of the dykes we had to pass over were simply awful. Very few got through the journey without serious loss of baggage and horses. I have a fair amount of courage, but it has been taxed to the uttermost during the past few days. The children have been most plucky. The natives here think my husband and Barnes have done splendidly to bring us through so well and free of all mishaps. It has been bitterly cold camping out some nights—two degrees below freezing. Still, we are alive, and contemplate continuing our journey to the settlement to-morrow—another seventy miles. We have our camp stove, and we start and end our day with a good foundation of porridge, which we find a splendid thing to keep us warm and satisfied. This morning I rushed first thing to the post office, but experienced a bitter disappointment. Not one letter for us! Others with smiling faces were eagerly devouring their home news. I must say I came away feeling very sad and lonely. It is just a month since we left home.

“On the journey my husband fired his first shot on Canadian soil. He killed a fine duck, and afterwards, three prairie chickens. We are greatly looking forward to a nice savoury dinner to-day—the first hot meal for a long time. We cannot feel too thankful that we are all safe so far. To others there have been many mishaps, and no wonder—the bogs, ravines, and gullies we passed were really fearful. Our good horses have done splendidly. We are quite enjoying the rest to-day. The vastness of this country is wonderful. Although we have passed through so much already, our courage is still undaunted. . . .

“On leaving Battleford we had a ninety-mile journey through most awful country. It shook us all to pieces, what with driving through thick scrub and charging across great streams and ravines. Simply perished with cold and hunger, we reached the Government tents at our journey’s end. We all felt weary, worn, and sad. My little Doris was taken ill the day before we arrived, and my husband’s first care, on reaching Mr. Barr’s camp, was to seek out the doctor. She had a temperature of 104; but, thanks to poultices and medical care, she soon pulled round. Then Barnes was taken ill; and I suppose all this worry and anxiety proved the last straw as far as I was concerned, for I was the next to collapse, with a bad chill and bronchitis, together with an abscess on my face, all of which combined to make me feel very low and out of sorts.”

So much for the first ordeal, to which this family and their fellow-colonists need not have been subjected in 1903. That long trek, accomplished by makeshift means of their own providing, put them on a sort of post-dated equality with settlers who arrived in pre-railway days. Indeed, save that the country was now free from Indian savages and belligerent fur-traders, Mr. and Mrs. Rendall and their two little children might have been living a hundred years ago, and traversing the North-West in one of Lord Selkirk’s parties of pioneers.

But the journey was, after all, of minor moment. Dumped down in the wilderness, isolated from civilisation, with no road or river service to connect them with the populated world, those English families had now somehow to strike root as a self-supporting community. Two hundred miles from a railway! Truly it was a formidable handicap.