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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of our place. He said that he had heard of us and was now glad to get acquainted with some of the family. He told us that he was a veterinary student from Ontario out with his brother for health reasons. His conversation was entertaining and helped very much to shorten the journey as well as to chase loneliness away. We were really sorry when he returned the pail of eggs and said good-bye. He had given us a grand boost. His trail veered off to the north and we watched him go over the horizon on his way. We have never seen or heard of him since. Just as ships pass in the night leave with the passengers an intriguing mystery so we have often wondered regarding the purpose of his journey, its success and of his fight for health. At least we will always remember him with gratitude.

On the second lap we were accompanied by our cousin Albert.

We boys stopped at times to throw stones at killdeers or at prairie gophers which persisted in defying our intrusion. At Rowland we got our shares attended to, bought that new wash-board, some bluing, a skein of gray yarn for darning, some spools of coarse thread, brown sugar, dried apples and a box of matches, etc. So that ,we were loaded going back as well as coming out. We traded in our pail of eggs at 12c per dozen and broke mother's five-dollar gold­ piece, which must have brought our family bad luck for I know that money was mighty scarce for many a month thereafter.

When we got back to our uncle's place on that first day we had travelled fifteen miles and were quite weary. My cousins kept me awake a lot that night by talking so that the last part of my journey was the hardest. The romance of prairie hiking had lost its bloom for the time being.

Out of justice to my oldest sister Rebecca, I must confess that it was she who carried the brunt of the responsibility. She was always a sort of little mother, in conjunction with sister Eva, to the rest of us children. I was only a tag-along brother on that shopping trip. Father let me go because I was the oldest boy and he wanted to give me a chance. Rebecca was a dutiful child who took life seriously and she did things well. I believe that she purchased everything we were sent for and brought back the right change. Later she was married in the Boissevain Methodist Church, in 1896. She raised two fine sons. She lived well into her sixties and then turning aside, passed over the horizon of the Manitoba prairies to the great beyond. In accordance with the pioneering faith of our parents and a settled conviction of my own, I am bold to suggest that there was a welcome voice that said, "Well done Rebecca. You obeyed your parents always and have been a good example to all those brothers and sisters enter thou unto the joy of thy Lord." My faith turned to the south-land in 1900. Having acquired the habit I am still walking, sixty-six years later.

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