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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share in a grain bag. Grain bags had a variety of uses in those days. Mother warned us not to take up with strangers on our journey and father instructed us as to the way. Except for the first few miles it was all undiscovered territory to us. We were able to follow the little prairie trail past the Robert Cook place (a log house unfinished and unoccupied), then skirting east of the ridge, travel north past bachelor Tom Allen's, then veering more to the east across Bill Hewitt's meadow beyond which we would pick up our long trail leading away off east. Prairie trails ran where they pleased in those days. They didn't worry about road allowances whatsoever. We were to follow this east going trail until it turned definitely to the north. At this angle looking away to the right and ahead we would see a house, peeking over some higher ground. That was Uncle William's house. We were to forsake all trails now and go straight across the prairie to that house. As there was no other house any­ where to be seen after passing Hewitt's there could be no mistake. We followed our directions joyously as pioneering adventures and yet with a bit of anxiety. Homesteading folk in those days were a lonely class hence little moved within the horizon that was not noticed. So having successfully accomplished the first part of our journey and drawing on toward our uncle's we saw the two cousins come racing out to meet us, Albert, nine, Willie, seven. They came jumping and stumbling along in great glee, their faces beaming with happy welcome. Albert's first words were "Our cow had a fine bull calf last night." Rebecca was able to go him one better by proffering that our cow had given us a fine heifer calf three weeks ago and that the cow and calf were doing nicely. With these important items taken care of we proceeded on our way with more casual conversation.

Our uncle's location might have been later described as being two and one-half miles northwest of Ninga, Man. Another particular of our story must not be forgotten. Mother had warned us against taking up with strangers when on our journey but we had no more than gotten out into the wide open spaces when we became con­ scious that there was a man following us. Who could he be? Where could he be going? We tried to hurry but the eggs in the pail seemed to turn into rocks and our feet were so poky. He gained on us in spite of our inner urging. Perhaps this man was craving companionship on his journey! When he was alongside of us we hardly dared look up at him, but he spoke in a friendly voice and asked us if the eggs were heavy? We admitted that they were a little bit heavy. When he offered to carry them for us we were afraid to let him have them for fear that he would not give them back again. However we yielded and he hooked a long arm through the pail and swung it over his hip and strode along in a manner that took our breath. He told us that he was Jim Campbell, younger brother of Alex Campbell, a homesteader who lived directly north