Across The Prairie In A Motor Caravan Part 3

Further official encouragement resulted from an introduction to the Lieutenant-Governor, Sir Richard Lake. He welcomed me as a compatriot, as he had been educated at Heversham Grammar School, in Westmorland. We had an interesting talk on prairie trails and motoring, and the need for religious education in the day schools. He was strongly in favour of this, and expressed regret for the continual opposition to it.

The Daughters of the Empire sent the editor of a Regina newspaper to interview me. She questioned me on what I had done during the War, the reason for our coming out, and the places we intended to visit. The result was an embarra.s.singly flattering article in the local paper, which was copied by the _Saskatchewan Star_. A few weeks later the following notice appeared in another paper: "Bachelors, beware! Two women are going in a caravan on the prairie. This is Leap Year!"

In Regina I met some very nice girls who had come out under the Fellowship of the Maple Leaf.[3] They had come to teach in the prairie schools, and a good many were now in training at the Normal School. I gave a tea-party for them, and they told me a good deal about their work, and in return showed great interest in our caravan scheme. Those of them who were going out to the prairie that summer said that they hoped we would visit them. I was very glad of this opportunity of explaining our hopes and aims to these teachers, for I knew it had been suggested that they should help with religious education, either by starting Sunday Schools or by giving instruction after school hours during the week. I foresaw that our great difficulty would be to make our work permanent in districts where there were no clergy, and I realised the enormous value of the help of these trained women. They would already have some knowledge of teaching methods, and some acquaintance with the Bible and Church doctrine. It would be a simple matter to show them how to apply psychological methods to religious education, and, helped with lesson courses and pictures, they could easily carry on any Sunday Schools we might be able to start in their neighbourhood.

We did not talk shop all the time; the "green Englishwomen" were put through a severe catechism on Canadian as it is spoken. But the W.

family having instructed me carefully, I came off better than might have been expected.

I saw a good deal of the deaconess in charge of the Maple Leafs. She found them comfortable lodgings, and befriended them in every possible way. She asked us to look up any of them whom we came across in the out-of-the-way prairie schools. Her only way of visiting was by train, and some of these schools were far from any "track." She was very kind to us and helped us in many ways.

Whilst I was in Regina I had to plan out the organisation of the caravan tour. I was given the names of a large number of places to visit and the routes we were to follow, but no names of the clergy in the different "districts" (parishes). I had no idea how far apart these places were, or how long it would take to get from place to place in the caravan. I therefore got a map and worked out the mileage between the places. On the earth trails outside Regina I had often seen motor-cars stuck in mud-holes, and I had noticed the deep ruts of these unmetalled roads, so I concluded that we could not make more than ten miles an hour at most in the caravan. On these two calculations I based the mileage we might hope to cover.

When at last I obtained the names of the clergy on my proposed route, I found that there were large areas in which there were no Anglican clergymen at all. I then wrote to the clergy, and, lacking these, the leading laity when I could find their names. In some cases this was impossible until I neared their district. In these letters I made the following suggestions. We should like to come and stay a week in their locality, living and sleeping in the caravan and doing our own cooking (I wished to make it clear that we should not be burdensome), but we should be glad to receive invitations and hospitality at times in order to get to know the people. Where there was a Sunday School in existence, we proposed to superintend the school and teach, while the teachers watched. Where there was no Sunday School, we should like to have the children gathered together to form one. In this case we hoped that prospective teachers would come to be shown how to teach, that they might carry on the school when we had started it, helped by the books and pictures which we proposed to leave them. We also requested the trustees to allow us to give Scripture lessons in the day schools in the half-hour allotted for that purpose, and also expressed our great desire to meet the parents, that we might discuss with them the problems of religious education.

I received most kind replies to these letters. The writers offered us a hearty welcome, and said how pleased they would be to have people coming out to them, for, as a rule, they had little help in these matters, beyond an invitation to a summer school just when the harvest was in full swing.

I should add here what I had been most careful to explain--namely, that we were given diocesan authority for our work by Archdeacon Dobie, D.D., who was acting as Commissary for the Bishop owing to the latter's breakdown through overwork, and by Archdeacon Burgett, the Chairman of the Sunday School Diocesan a.s.sociation, who was also Diocesan Missioner.

[Footnote 2: The Qu'Appelle Diocesan Boarding School for Girls.]

[Footnote 3: See Appendix I.]

CHAPTER VI

THE MOTOR CARAVAN

Whilst in Regina waiting for the caravan to be ready for the road I took steps to be ready for the van. I had never driven a Ford, but Aylmer Bosanquet's Ford roadster arrived whilst I was in Regina, and she allowed me to have lessons on it. It was quite easy to drive, and on the second day I took it out alone. I also went to a motor school and had a course of lessons on Ford running repairs and vulcanising tyres. The head man was exceedingly nice, and took infinite pains to help me in every way. I was the only woman in the shop, but there were a great many men learning motor-tractor work preparatory to working on the prairie farms. Most of them had been in the army. They took a most embarra.s.sing interest in me and my future plans, putting me through the usual catechism, with the inevitable leading question: "Are you married?" They seemed to think it was not fit for two women to go out alone on the prairie, as in Western Canada women hardly ever drive outside the towns, and never do their own running repairs--and seldom even oil their engines, judging from the sound.

On May 1 I heard that the caravan was ready, but, unfortunately, the trails were not yet open. However, spring comes suddenly on the prairie.

On May 2 there was a blizzard of snow, and on May 5 it was like an English midsummer day. Archdeacon Burgett advised us not to fetch our caravan until his clergy had arrived at Regina with theirs, as they could then tell us what the trails were like. They came in on the Sat.u.r.day, May 8, having had a very rough time with snow-drifts and mud-holes. They had bent their back lamp and damaged a rear mudguard. I noticed that they had no shock absorbers, which accounted for a good deal of the damage. They gave us a book with directions and maps of the blazed trail between Winnipeg and Regina, and gave us a lurid description of the perils of the way, apparently wishing to dissuade us from what they considered a mad attempt. But as I had mapped out the caravan itinerary with but little margin, I did not wish to lose any time in getting off, so Winifred Ticehurst and I started for Winnipeg late on Sunday evening (after working pretty hard all day). We took a blanket or two and a little spirit lamp and saucepan as our sole camping equipment. The parish hall, in which our sleeping-bags, etc., were stored, was locked, and the caretaker had gone to church.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE CARAVAN AND HER CREW

(W. M. T. LEFT, F. H. E. H. RIGHT)]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE INTERIOR OF THE VAN]

_To face p. 28_

[Ill.u.s.tration: TIDYING UP (see page 54)]

[Ill.u.s.tration: A SHACK ON THE MOVE (see page 22)]

We arrived at Winnipeg at 11.30 a.m. on Monday, and went straight to the coachbuilder's. The manager showed us the caravan, which was all ready for the road, except that they had not put non-skid tyres on the rear as ordered. I pointed this out, and the manager said that the mistake had been made by the Ford Company, but he would send the car down to have it put right in the morning. We had expected to start that afternoon, but were told that the car had not yet been pa.s.sed by the Government officials, who were going to register it as a commercial vehicle to escape taxation. As it was a public holiday this could not be done until next day.

The caravan was much like a tradesman's van in appearance. It was painted black, with "Sunday School Mission, Anglican Church," lettered in red and gold on one side. The driving seat could be completely closed in when necessary, for, besides the wind-screen, there were half-gla.s.s doors on either side, which in hot weather could be taken off and put behind the mattresses. There were two doors at the back of the van, which opened outwards. As the side doors had their catches inside, when we wished to leave the caravan we got out at the back and padlocked these doors, thus making all secure. The back of the driving-seat was hinged and folded forward at night, so that the six-foot mattresses which were strapped back to the van sides during the day could come down over it. Beneath one mattress was a wooden locker, and under the other a wooden shelf with legs. There was also a shelf on one wall of the van. When I got back to Regina, before starting out on the prairie, I added further items, which the run from Winnipeg had shown to be desirable. An electric bulb was fitted to the roof of the van, and a reflecting gla.s.s put on the left side. I also got an inspection lamp for use at night in case anything went wrong with the engine. This could be attached to the electric current which supplied the bulb. We racked our brains to think of some means of keeping the things on the shelf, and finally nailed on wire netting, which we hooked to the roof. This proved very effective, but so great was the jar that the dancing pots and pans wore it out from time to time. We made a bag to hold our tidiest clothes, and blue cotton covers for the mattresses and a bag to keep our pillows clean. We also nailed linoleum on the floor of the van, because dust and draughts came through cracks in the wood-work, and this made the floor easy to keep clean.

The caravan had a Ford cha.s.sis with electric starter and head lights. I had heard that for the rough prairie trails nothing could beat a Ford engine. Only a car with a high clearance is of any use on these earth roads, and whereas a heavy car would stick in a mud-hole the light Ford can get through. Then again, even little "towns" which are nothing more than hamlets stock Ford spare parts, both in garages and in the ordinary "hardware stores"--_i.e._, iron-mongers. I had had two extra petrol tanks put on the foot-board, each holding 8 gallons, so that we could carry 25 gallons in all. The tool box, also, was on the foot-board, so the spare tyre had to be strapped inside the caravan above the driving seat. We had very strong shock absorbers to prevent the body smashing the back axle and springs when we went through very deep holes, and sub-radius rods to strengthen the steering-rod and front axle. I carried three spare tubes as I had not remountable rims, and a pyrene extinguisher fixed inside the car in case of fire through damage to the petrol tanks on the rough trails.

I fitted out the caravan in the light of what I had learnt about the prairie from the Regina Railway Mission clergy lecturing in England, and from books on the subject. From these sources I knew something about the condition of the roads and the storms one might expect. This was why I insisted on having a caravan rather than a Ford roadster, for though the lightness of the latter would enable it to get through a mud-hole where a caravan might stick, I guessed that a prairie thunderstorm with its terrific winds and torrential rains would sweep away the tent and hood of the roadster like straws, leaving the occupants homeless.

As we could not get away that day we were obliged to find lodgings for the night, and had not the least idea where to go. I would have asked hospitality from the Daughter of the Empire to whom I had an introduction, but we did not care to present ourselves to a stranger in our travel-stained condition, and we had brought no evening clothes with us. Winifred suggested that we should try to find a Y.W.C.A., which we did. The head received us very kindly, and gave us cheap and comfortable accommodation. Had we not been so tired we might have attended a concert in their concert-hall.

Next morning we went to a store which sold camping outfits and bought several things, in particular a cunning arrangement of aluminium cooking utensils which fitted neatly into a canvas bag. Canadians make a speciality of this kind of thing, as people often camp out when on a shooting or fishing expedition. I also had to get several extra tools for the car, as very few were provided with it. Whilst I did this Winifred went off to buy food.

When I went to fetch the caravan I found that a mechanic was just about to take it to the Ford Company to have the non-skid tyres put on, so I accompanied him. I noticed that it was not easy to drive in traffic, you could not see out of the back, and as yet it had no reflecting gla.s.s.

The engine was very stiff as it had just come out of the a.s.sembly shop and had not been run, so it was difficult to steer and to regulate the speed. Also it swung a good deal as the body was very long, and the shock absorbers helped to make it swing. Though Main Street, Winnipeg, is much wider than Oxford Street, it also contains much more traffic, including trams, so it was not surprising that we nearly ran into a motor bicycle and other vehicles. Then the pyrene extinguisher fell out, and I had to rescue it from under the nose of a tram.

Seeing what Winnipeg traffic was like, and how stiff the engine was, and also not knowing the way out of the town, I thought of the suggestion made by the Regina motor school, where I had learnt Ford running repairs. This was that I should ask a mechanic of their Winnipeg branch to look over the engine and see if it were rightly adjusted, and then take us out of Winnipeg. Leaving the caravan at the Ford Company, I went to find this firm. The address given to me proved to be a barber's shop.

This was rather disconcerting, but, on inquiring the way, I found that it belonged to the same firm, and they directed me to the motor shops.

They sent a mechanic with me, but he seemed all the time to be in a great hurry, and kept looking at his watch. I left him looking at the engine while I went after something or other, and when I came back he was gone. I then saw that I should have to take the van out of Winnipeg myself, as they could not spare a mechanic from the Ford Company.

What must be must, so Winifred and I started off and drove into Main Street, with its surging stream of trams and cars. The rule of the road here is the opposite of the English rule, all cars having a left-hand drive, so I thought it best to cross over to the right side of the street. But just as I had turned across the tram-lines a policeman stopped me, saying that I must cross further up at the regular crossing-place. The engine, being stiff, stopped dead, and there we were, right in the way of the trams. However, by the help of the self-starter, I got it going again and tried to turn, but the steering-wheel was so stiff that I nearly ran into the pavement. We went on further up the street until we came to a red notice which marked the crossing-place, but as I had to drive slowly through the traffic, the engine kept stopping, so I turned into a side street, and with a good deal of difficulty found my way out of the town. With every mile the engine ran better, and after fifty miles it went quite easily.

CHAPTER VII

THE PRAIRIE TRAILS

The prairie trails are simply earth roads, it being impossible to get stone for them. The very best trail is much like the worst cart road in England. The trail is made by scooping out the earth on either side of a wide track, and throwing it into the middle, where the clods are baked as hard as bricks by the sun. These clods would knock the bottom out of any car which had not a high clearance--the more so as a used trail has ruts about two feet deep. Trail-making is usually done by a scoop drawn by two horses, but in some places a kind of motor-plough is used. In dry weather a simple track across the prairie made by carts and horses is much easier going, but these tracks are impossible when the snow is melting, or after the heavy thunderstorms of summer. Therefore all the main trails have to be raised in the middle to let off the water, which would otherwise stand till it formed sloughs. When once on the trail you have to keep there, as it is either bordered by a three-foot bank whence the earth was dug, or else it slopes straight into a slough. These sloughs are like great ponds, their bottoms are covered with deep mud, and if it once gets in, a car sinks deeper and deeper, and cannot be got out. The sloughs are very beautiful, reflecting the wonderful blue of the sky, or the marvellous colours of sunset. A prairie sunset is quite beyond description. I have never seen such colours in England.

The flowers on the prairie are lovely, forming a changing kaleidoscope of colour throughout the summer months. They border the trails and the sloughs, and grow in riotous profusion on unbroken ground. When we first took the trail I specially noticed a lovely little pale mauve anemone.

There are also many beautiful birds on the prairie, the most striking being the red-winged blackbird--a very big blackbird with glinting red feathers on the top of his wings. There was also a robin about twice the size of his English cousin, and a yellow-breasted bird which sang a very sweet little song, but never seemed to finish it. There were prairie chickens of a greyish brown, wild duck and large snipe, and a sort of water-hen.

The jack-rabbit was a very ubiquitous person, always jumping across the trail. He is really a hare, greyish-brown in summer and white in winter.

Another local inhabitant who made his presence felt was the gopher, which looks like a cross between a squirrel and a weasel. They make their holes in the wheel-ruts of the trails, as we found by b.u.mping violently over their excavations. Badgers adopt the same inconvenient habit, as we discovered to our cost when shot suddenly to the roof of the caravan. Fortunately, they are not so common as gophers. The latter do a great deal of damage to the wheat, so that the farmers are obliged to poison them and the children are given so much per tail; consequently I had little compunction in running over one occasionally when it sat up in the middle of the trail just in front of the wheel. At first I wondered why these beasties chose the trail for their burrows when they had all the enormous prairie at their disposal, until it was explained to me that the hard ground formed a better front door to their holes, as in soft ground the soil would fall in.

We were interested in watching the farming operations en route. They were disking and ploughing and sowing, generally driving six horses abreast. The machines were immensely wide, too large to pa.s.s through our widest gates, and it was a heavy alluvial soil, thus needing much horse-power. We also saw a large number of motor tractors in use.

All the main trails are bordered with telephone poles, and a red blaze on these poles indicates the way--_i.e._, an R or an L tells you when to turn to the right or left. At least, it is supposed to tell you, but as both letters are usually on the same side of the pole, it is up to you to guess whether you turn to the right to go to Winnipeg or to Regina.

The matter is further complicated by the letters being made of paper on some trails, in which case they are generally half torn off.

The trails, like the towns, are laid out in squares. In a town the avenues run east and west and the streets north and south. On the trail, when you are running north and south you find a trail running east and west every two miles; and when you are running east and west you find a trail going north and south every mile. But this arrangement is complicated as you draw near to the Arctic Circle, because as the trails are laid out in squares, these squares grow narrower in this direction and so an extra trail, called a correction line, is added at intervals.

Also now and again an old Indian trail upsets one's calculations. You never talk of right and left on the prairie, but always of the points of the compa.s.s, and these points form the first lesson which a child learns. Yet the actual compa.s.s is of no use on these rough roads, as it gets out of order. One learns to steer by the sun and stars.

It is useless to ask for directions, you will merely be told "Go five miles north, and three miles east and one mile south and four miles west, and then look for the elevator at So-and-So. Ye can't miss it."

But you can miss it, very easily. Again, you are often told that a place is "quite close" and find it to be at least five miles away.

There are no landmarks on these trails, except the elevators in the towns near the track. The sections are marked by a small heap of stones at their corners. There is scarcely a fence on the prairie, there being no stock to speak of and no wood at hand for posts. There are also no sign-posts or danger signals, and for lack of the latter we had a narrow escape of finishing our tour before it had well begun. Soon after we left Winnipeg, running through the main street of a little town, we suddenly saw a great C.P.R. train cross the road in front of us with no warning whatever. Had we been a minute or two sooner we must have been killed. It is no unusual thing for the track to cross the trail, but in this instance the houses prevented us from seeing the approach of the train.