Read Online A Place Called Bliss by Ruth Glover - Free Book Online

into dry clothes, and ate a cold supper—leftover bannock again, not nearly so good as it was this morning when it was hot.
    July 15—Before we went on, after the rain, we took time to dry out our things and let the children run and stretch their legs. But not too far. You can’t imagine what a sea of grass this is, Mam. It is endless. Once in a while we come across a settler, and I must say their shelters, which they call soddies, are pathetic sights, so lonely and small on the big stretches of land around them. One man charged us a dollar to cross his land! We made about eight miles today, Angus figures. The trip, God willing, will take close to fifty-five days or thereabouts. The more I see of this prairie, the happier I am that Angus has chosen to go on to the bush country. Trees! How I long to be among them again.
    July 19—Yesterday an old Indian came alongside from somewhere or other. He seemed to be starving, and so we fed him. The Indians are pathetic. The Meatis, on the other hand, are proud people but are very restless and discontented. They see their land being divided and taken from them, and I can hardly blame them for their unrest. No one wants to be governed by faraway Ottawa. They have found a leader in a young half-breed by the name of Louis Riel. Watch for his name, Mam; you will hear of him, I’m sure. The people of the Red River give him much resistance, and there is bitternessand fear in many places. Still, this old Indian was peaceful enough and trudged off across the prairie wrapped in his blanket and bothered us not at all.
    Although I haven’t had my talk with Carlton Voss (the preacher I told you about), I heard him give a sermon last Sunday. We stop on Sundays, Mam, for most of these people are good, God-fearing folk. Well, Mr. Voss kept using a term I certainly never heard in the kirk back home. It was “born again.” You must be born again, he said. Some people were nodding their heads, some said “amen,” like they knew what he was talking about. Some people were sort of uneasy. Me—I confess there was something stirring around on my insides like I never had happen before. When the time is right, I’ll talk to Angus and see what he makes of it all.
    July 21—Days slipping by before I know it, though it seems each one is very long indeed. Today we got a slow start because some of the oxen had strayed away and the boys searched until they found them about four miles away. We passed Portage la Prairie yesterday; saw some wonderful farms near there. We camped near one of them, and they let us have water—good cold water—and we bought fresh milk, our cow barely giving any milk now, probably due to all this walking. Tonight I am baking bread, and the next time we have a stop of any length, if we’re near water, some of us ladies are going to have to do washing. We are a dusty and, I’m afraid, smelly bunch!
    July 25—Making slow time, they say. Rigs keep breaking down. Red River carts are supposed to be easy to fix, but one has to have material (wood) available. We camped last night at Rat Tail Creek. A great many freighters passed us today. An old squaw came by selling pemmican. The children picked strawberries and we had them with pancakes for supper.
    July 28—My heart is very heavy today. The Carney baby fell out of the cart and the huge heavy wheels ran over him and crushed him to death. Once again I heard Mr. Voss standing beside an open grave, giving comfort from the Bible. I came straight back to the cart and searched out my Bible again and looked up the words he said before I forgot them. They are found in John (much easier to find and to say than Thess.) 11:25. Jesus is saying that He is the resurrection and the life. “He that believeth in me,” He says, “though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.” He ends by asking “Believest thou this?” and it seemed he was talking right at me. Do I believe all this? I