Chapter 28
A second winter finished in this wild, untamed country of endless sky and stars. We have still much to learn in this new world, willing students with no teachers to guide us in our common struggles. The natives tolerate us, with gifts of laughter and scorn like so many scraps of fur and pieces of dried meat. The Metis, the fur traders whose land we have taken, criticize our presence with looks of anger bordering on hostility and violence. The snow, wind, and rain are ceaseless in their persecution, bringing only pain and sorrow to those who wish to make the wild their own. Yet the mad Scot can do nothing but survive when the odds are not in her favour. I will jump off the cliff, land in the wild choppy waters, and make the land what I require of it…
The last bits of snow have finally melted away, replaced by the grass that will soon look windswept and brown from too little rain and too much bluster. Back to Red River we go!
In May, we left Pembina and returned to Red River to stake our claim and create the home promised to us.
Everyone was in high spirits on our departure day. The leader of the group, Peguis, was present to see us off. Ever since that time many months ago when he offered Mama a feather from his head dress, I have admired him, if but from afar. Older than most, he commands a respect from his people I’m sure our Governor wishes he could get from us.
Leaving Pembina brought smiles to most people’s faces, but for some there are other reasons to smile. There is no doubt in my mind Willie will ask for Chloe to marry him once he has established himself in a small home with a good crop sown. I hope for the same thing as well. George will spend most of his time at Fort Douglas with the Company, but I have no doubt he will soon ask Papa for his permission so the two of us can be wed.
Off in the distance, herds of buffalo can be seen gently grazing on fresh plains grass. Thank goodness for their presence. Buffalo meat is plentiful at Pembina. As I found out from those who winter here regularly, the snow was not very deep this particular season, and often the buffalo would come close to our enclosures, rubbing their backs against the walls.
The sixty mile journey back to the Red River was bearable with songs and stories from those close to me. George carried little Calum on his shoulders, and he kept a smile on my brother’s face with little tickles and songs. Both Angus and Liam, when they were not chasing each other, would walk close to George and listen to his tales as a ship’s boy, crossing the ocean in search of treasure and adventure.
Walking on our second day with Papa, I could see concern in his face that he was trying to hide. “We will have our land Papa.” I said to him reassuringly. “George has told us most things are ready. We’ll make due with tents until we can finally build a house sturdy enough to survive the winter.”
“Oh Molly, I know. With hammer, nails, and what this good earth can provide, we will have our house, a home just like our croft back in Argyll. Do you remember what life was like back then Molly?”
“It’s been such a long time; I can’t say for sure I remember.”
“It’s been well over two years since we last saw Argyll, since we last looked at misty Highland mornings with a nice cup of tea and hot tattie scone. Your littlest brother will not know sadness because of what he has missed.”
“Do you think him lucky, Papa?”
“Unless our lot improves, I do not see any luck coming his way.”
“But you just said yourself a home will not be hard to build, that we will survive a Canadian winter by our own hands and not have to depend on the charity of strangers.”
“I know what I have said. It is not the roof over our head I’m concerned about.”
“Well what then?” Just then, Mr. Docherty quickened his pace to listen in and take part in our conversation.
“Molly,” Mr. Docherty interrupted, “Your father and I have talked about this often. The lots assigned to our family and yours are quite close to each other, so we will make sure to help each other build small dwellings as quickly as possible. But John is concerned about our ability to feed ourselves.”
“We have seeds to plant,” I quickly countered. Once we arrive, we’ll plant right away for the fall harvest.”
“If it was only that easy,” Papa sullenly replied. “This prairie sod is tough, it will need to be broken up and worked over, and what tools have we been given? Where are the teams of oxen and the ploughs? All we have been given is a simple hoe, not enough for the type of work we need to do.”
“But the Governor will not abandon us?” I suggested. “With all that has been brought to help us live in this area, would he not make sure that farm animals and other tools were given to us so the job can be done right?”
Both Papa and Mr. Docherty started to chuckle to themselves at my suggestion. “Oh Molly,” Papa responded, “The Governor has much on his mind. More colonists are coming in, and he also has the business of the HBC to think about. We might get a few extra tools to ease the burden, but I would not hold your breath if I were you.”
I did not want to give up hope so easily. “But what about all the fish in the river? I remember when Mr. Robertson told us about how special this place was. He said the river was full of fish easy enough to fill the bellies of all.”
“Yes, I remember that too,” Mr. Docherty replied. “Sturgeon, pike, catfish and who knows what else can be found in these rivers. His words sounded like music to me when I heard them. But I have come to realize that Mr. Robertson was there to sell a false vision of Red River. He was fishing for settlers to come here, and he baited his words with dishonesty in order to pull us in.”
“Some years in this country are bad,” Papa continued. “Let’s hope this is not an off year. If it is, I’m afraid it will force MacDonell to do something next winter none of us will like.”
“What will he do?” I asked, knowing full well what the answer to my questions already was.
“Another winter back in Pembina. Those Metis and natives were glad to see us go. I don’t think they’ll be too happy to have us come back.”