I had my supper and was just going to bed, when I saw the headlights of an approaching car. I hurried out to stop them before they reached the wash-out. It was an enormous caravan on its way to Kerrobert sports. They were very grateful, and said they would tow me out in the morning, before they went on, if 4 a.m. was not too early. It was very difficult going to bed at this angle, but I managed to sleep. The prairie air is so wonderful that you can sleep anywhere and anyhow. Next morning the other van crawled round me and tried to pull me out, but my rope broke, and I told them not to stop for me. The farmer came later on, and between us we managed to get the engine going by priming the sparking plug, and then I got out of the hole all right.
The farmer directed me along the main trails. But, unknown to him, there had been a cloud-burst in this district during the recent thunderstorm, and this had washed away conduits and formed great sloughs within the space of three hours. Consequently I spent the day retracing my path and trying to find passable trails.
On one occasion I stuck fast in a very bad mud-hole, and so went to a farm for help. The farmer sent his man with two horses, and he pulled me out. While he was unhitching the horses, he became embarrassingly confidential. Beginning with the usual query "Are you married?" and the inevitable "Why not?" he intimated that now was the opportunity. I gathered he was "baching it" as many do, which meant that he had to do all his own domestic chores as well as his farmwork. I could imagine what his shack looked like, having seen some when asking the way with their unwashed crockery and general disorder, and I guessed that he was wanting a housekeeper and thought that I looked strong and useful. The man would take no money for his service, and when I refused to let him come and sit beside me in the caravan he called me ungrateful. It was an awkward situation, and I saw that the only thing to do was to get away at once. But as the caravan was not quite out of the mud the engine had stopped as soon as the horses ceased pulling. Fortunately they now became so restive that they took all the man's attention, so I cranked the car like lightning, jumped in and got away.
Farther on I stuck again in alkaline mud, which sucks you down, but a farmer lent me boards and I managed to run along them. Presently I reached a farm with a telephone, and sent a message to Winifred lest she should be anxious. The farmer's wife kindly offered me food, which I gladly accepted, as I had had none since early morning. On other occasions, when we could not stop to cook, Winifred fed me with biscuits and chocolate, as on these rough trails I had to keep both hands on the wheel. When I tried to start the car again it would not crank. But there was a small hill near the farm, so I pushed the car to the brow of it by turning the wheels by the spokes. Then came the exciting moment when the van began to run down the hill and I had to jump in with all speed.
At a place called Dodsland I was advised to cut across the prairie, as the main trail was impassable. I had an exciting time bumping over the hillocks, and felt sure that everything in the van was being smashed to pieces. Finally, by asking the way at isolated farms, I got in sight of Kerrobert, and then found yet another slough half across my path, in which two side wheels stuck fast as I tried to get by. My efforts to dig the car out proved futile, so I went to a near-by farm for help. I found numbers of horses, but no men. Everyone had gone to Kerrobert sports. I was sorely tempted to take some horses and pull the car out myself. Then a car came along from Kerrobert, and most kindly turned round and hauled me out. I got into the town about 9.30 p.m. and went straight to the vicarage, where I found Winifred.
PRAIRIE SCHOLARS
