On August 6th the lady with deep thankfulness recorded that their bungalow, christened “Doris Court,” was near completion.
“To-night,” she wrote, “we contemplate sleeping, for the first time for four months, within the shelter of four walls. July is the wet month here, and it is easy to imagine the delights of being aroused from your sleep by the rain trickling on you as you lie in your tent. . . .
“Since I wrote the above we have removed into our very own domicile, and right proud we feel to look around, even though at present the boards are bare. From one window I can see our lovely oats and barley looking splendid. From another window I see the master of Doris Court ploughing away for dear life with his fine pair of horses. Each acre ploughed means a better prospect for the coming year.
“Doris Court measures 30 feet by 30, and contains five rooms, besides an attic which runs the full length of the house and can be used as a bedroom, as we have had it nicely floored and boarded. There are also two very large cellars in which we can store all necessary provisions for the winter. Everyone who sees our house is of the same opinion, viz., that it is quite the best home in the colony. There will be a veranda four or five feet wide round three sides of the house, and that will be lovely in the summer. We are going to have a fine garden, not being stinted for ground, and we hope in the spring to get some fruit and other trees from the experimental farm. There is a great charm and fascination in planning it all out, knowing it is our own property. That fact compensates us for all the hardships we have passed through.
“We have gone to more expense over our house than we intended in the first instance; but so many persons will want putting up for the winter that we feel it will repay us to have extra room. Already we have had a lot of applications, which we have under consideration. Our bungalow will be warmed throughout by means of pipes from the kitchen stove, and from a heating stove which is placed in the octagonal hall. We burn nothing but wood. The fires have to be kept going night and day during the winter, and we have to put up double windows, viz., outside frames, which can be removed in the summer. The wild flowers are very lovely, and the small single sunflower is just now in abundance all over our land. There are also gaillardias, besides a kind of lily of the valley and a red tiger lily.”
The colony had a terrible experience which the lady thus vividly described: “October 21st. Yesterday was a day never to be forgotten. For nearly a week we have been watching several huge prairie fires raging in the distance, for we have feared that a change of wind might bring a heavy disaster upon us. The night before last was an anxious one, with the terrible circle of fire gradually closing around us. The general opinion was that we were safe for the night, but I could not sleep. Next morning our worst fears were realised, and we knew that a few hours would decide our fate. The only safeguard against prairie fires is a broad belt of ploughing all round your homestead. This my husband had done, with the exception of one side, which, alas! was the very side towards which the fire was sweeping with awful rapidity. Needless to say, the plough was soon at work, and it was literally ploughing for dear life. Every available tub was filled with water. Sacks were collected to be in readiness for beating out the flames when the time should come.
“Mr. Rendall, Barnes, and another man who is working for us were all on the alert, watching with intense eagerness all the different points. Meanwhile within the house I, together with Mrs. H., who is boarding with us for the winter, and Mrs. B., who nursed me when my little girl was born, stood gazing out of the window. Each of us had a baby in our arms, and each also had two other children to look after. So in all we mustered nine little ones, each under six years of age. Our young flock fortunately were not able to realise the deadly peril we were in, and we had to keep on rounding them up in readiness for hasty flight.
“I collected a few little valuables, and looked around with a very heavy heart, wondering what would become of us if in an hour or two we should be homeless. At last we could stand still no longer; so we three women rushed out, and, filling our aprons with the clay and soil dug up from the foundations, we scattered it all over the ground around the house. The wind was blowing a hurricane, bringing, or rather driving, the fire straight on to us. The awful roar of the flames was enough to make the bravest shudder, and the smoke and smell were suffocating. My husband continued ploughing until absolutely compelled to stop owing to the heat and smoke. Our two men meanwhile drenched the roof with water; then, arming themselves with wet sacks, they hurried to the weakest points to try and prevent the flames jumping the fire-guard, which was only 150 yards off the house all round. We could do nothing more. We could only wait with bated breath.
“At last came the joyful cry ‘Safe!’ from the western side. But the danger was not yet over, for on the north-west we were again threatened, and it was there the horses had been placed for safety. All hands had to fly round to meet the enemy at the fresh point of attack, and after a hard fight the dreaded foe, thanks to cool heads and strong arms, was kept at bay. At the end of a short time of awful suspense and anxiety, my husband came back to us with the welcome assurance, ‘All danger over! Safe for another year!’ We were too overjoyed for words, and after the dreadful strain of so many hours you may pretty well guess what the reaction was like. Mr. Rendall was literally fagged out, but when we had had a little rest and refreshment we all felt better.
“Our loss was only four tons of hay, but many of our neighbours lost all their hayricks. The fire started by the Vermilion River, and was raging for days before it reached us and swept on towards Battleford. There is no doubt whatever that our fire-guard in a great measure saved the town site.