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fell in with an ox team driven by Frank Howell and the late G. C. Wright, and we proceeded to Old Deloraine land office to file on our land. I then went into the Turtle Mountain bush about twelve miles distant from our homesteads, and together with my brother, Peter, James Rae and the late W. H. Latimer, took lodging in a breed's shack and began to get out logs for a shanty. We clubbed together and bought an ox team, drew out the logs and erected a 10 x 12 shanty on Rae's quarter.

Search for Work

Spring had now come and Peter and I decided we must get work. We pooled our resources and found we had $5.00. so with an old valise dangling in the centre of a pole carried on our shoulders we began our seventy mile walk to Brandon. What was then known as the Endless Slough had to be crossed, and we waded through it, holding our clothes over our head and buried to the arms in slush. I still maintain that we hold the speed record for getting into our duds on the other bank.

After the first night, half our money was gone. The next noon saw another dollar depart, but we reached Brandon that night, and after investing in some bread and cheese, hit for a box car as it was our intention to go to the end of the steel and apply for work. The conductor, on finding we had no passes, decided to eject us, but for some reason, possibly the fact that we each stood six foot three inches, he went away and forgot to return. This reminds me that I started my career in Manitoba one jump ahead of the railroads, but something tells me they have caught up long since.

Arriving at Flat Creek (now Oak Lake), thirty-five miles west of Brandon, on a Saturday night, friendless and broke, we found it necessary to pawn a watch with the keeper of the store for Sunday's board, and then on Monday morning we joined the shovel brigade.

We surfaced through to Moose Jaw that summer. When fall came Peter went home to get some work done on the homestead. I followed him via Brandon about a month later at freeze-up. I headed out from Brandon in the general direction of Rae's shack, and in the evening of the second day I decided I must be somewhere in its vicinity. It was getting dusk and I espied a dark object on the western horizon, which I decided must be the shanty. I made haste to reach it before it got too late. The shack turned out to be a haystack, so I burrowed in supper less and went to sleep. Next morning a survey taken from the top of the haystack revealed a house a few miles distant. On my arrival there I found it to be the home of A. S. Barton, who directed me to my friends.

A curious incident happened as I went through Brandon. The railroad fare was necessarily coarse, and boasted no sweets what­ ever. When I returned to Brandon, the first thing I did was to buy a