This page is a text version of the Beckoning Hills History Book. This is the story of the Turtle Mountain Area of Manitoba. You can get a PDF copy of the book on our full version page. The PDF copy is an exact page by page representation of the original book. This text version has been reformated for the web and contains text recognition mistakes. These mistakes do not appear in the full version. The full version also includes each image in the original book.

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situated. For the first mile or so, till they got winded or worked off a little energy, they galloped. Will got out of it, as for me, I held on to the board seat for dear life, and prayed the good Lord to keep Us safe till the oxen got worn down to walking. That night we tied the oxen to a picket fence in front of where Dan Morrish used to live. When we finished shopping and came back to the wagon, we found that the oxen had decided the fence would look better across the street and had pulled it there. We fixed it back as best we could and started home-on the gallop. Fortunately, the first stretch was level prairie this time.

One day I borrowed my dad's pony and buckboard to come to town. That pony was the laziest creature that ever walked. For the first three miles I coaxed, scolded and tried every conceivable way to get that animal to trot, but I guess that was one day he didn't feel like trotting, and he didn't! Just as we were coming around the 'Robertson Hill, he slid down and dumped me and my belongings out of the buckboard. When I realized what had happened, I saw the pony lying on the ground and I was lying across the front of the buckboard, with my foot through the wheel. Did I ever talk nicely to that pony then! He finally got up, pinning me in. After more persuasive talk, he stepped forward and I extricated myself, gathered up vinegar jugs, letters, etc., and went on my way. I arrived home safely without further mishap.

I remember one day in the winter when Will had gone to the bush. I was told to feed the stock at noon. In the afternoon it began to storm, by dark it was a blizzard, and no sign of Will returning. I had wood enough to do till the middle of the night, after that I burned boxes and rubbish to keep the room warm for the baby. I guess I must have kept warm walking from window to window to look out. We had plenty of wood, but the ax was away. I kept a lamp burning in the upstairs window all night. Just as day began to break, the sleigh came past the window. Will had been com­ pletely lost within half a mile of home. As the blizzard subsided he recognized his surroundin~s, and he made his way home.

Many strange experiences are related about oxen. One of the neighbors was taking his family and friends to church with the oxen and wagon. When passing through a slough, they decided to stop and have a drink. It was a warm afternoon, and the water was delightfully cool, so they decided to stay where they were-in the middle of the slough. The driver tried every way to persuade the oxen to move, all to no avail.

Finally, the men got out of the wagon and began carrying the women and children to dry land. All went well until one man gallantly offered to carry a two hundred pound matron over. For the first few feet he managed to step on tufts of grass, but as the matron seemed to become very heavy, he missed a tuft of grass, and sank ankle deep in mud. Now he had not only two hundred

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