{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_34447/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_34447","id":"gutenberg_34447","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/34447","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Religion/Spirituality","Category: Travel Writing","Missions -- Canada"],"text":"Produced by David T. Jones, Ross Cooling, and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Canada Team at\nhttp://www.pgdpcanada.net (This file was produced from\nimages generously made available by The Internet\nArchive/Canadian Libraries)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: ACROSS THE PRAIRIE\n\nF.H.E. HASELL]\n\n\n\n\nACROSS THE PRAIRIE IN A MOTOR CARAVAN\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE CANADIAN DOMINION IN DIOCESES\n\n_By permission of S.P.G._    _Frontispiece_]\n\n\n\n\n  ACROSS THE PRAIRIE\n  IN A MOTOR CARAVAN\n\n  A 3,000 MILE TOUR BY TWO ENGLISHWOMEN\n  ON BEHALF OF RELIGIOUS EDUCATION\n\n  BY\n  F. H. EVA HASELL\n  IN COLLABORATION WITH J. F. S.\n\n  WITH 18 ILLUSTRATIONS AND A MAP\n\n  LONDON\n  SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE\n\n  NEW YORK AND TORONTO: THE MACMILLAN CO.\n  1922\n\n\n\n\n  TO\n\n  AYLMER BOSANQUET\n\n  WHOSE SELF-SACRIFICE, DEEP SPIRITUALITY,\n  AND FAR-SEEING VISION INSPIRED THIS VENTURE,\n  THIS BOOK IS LOVINGLY DEDICATED\n\n  PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN\n\n\n\n\n  LETTER FROM\n  HIS GRACE THE ARCHBISHOP\n  OF CANTERBURY.\n\n\n  Lambeth Palace,\n  London, S.E.\n\nDear Miss Hasell,\n\nI happen to have read the proof sheets of the little book which is to\nrecord the story of your work and Miss Ticehurst's in the prairie tracts\nof Canada, and I should like to tell you how glad I am that the account\nof these eventful journeyings should be accessible to the public. People\nrealise too little what are the opportunities and responsibilities of\npioneer days in those incomparable regions. The perseverance, the\nindomitable energy, and the buoyant hope which your pages record and\ninspire will have a place in the annals of that vast seed plot and\ncradle of a great nation that is to be.\n\n  I am,\n\n    Yours very truly,\n\n      RANDALL CANTUAR.\n\n  _October 5th, 1922._\n\n\n\n\n  CONTENTS\n\n\n  CHAPTER                                              PAGE\n\n      I. THE CALL OF THE PRAIRIE                          1\n\n     II. PREPARATIONS AND DEPARTURE                       7\n\n    III. RELIGIOUS EDUCATION IN THE U.S.A. AND CANADA    10\n\n     IV. LIFE IN A LITTLE PRAIRIE TOWN                   17\n\n      V. IN REGINA                                       22\n\n     VI. THE MOTOR CARAVAN                               28\n\n    VII. THE PRAIRIE TRAILS                              33\n\n   VIII. FROM WINNIPEG TO REGINA                         36\n\n     IX. SANDSTORMS AND SUNDAY SCHOOLS                   42\n\n      X. ADVENTURES AND MISADVENTURES                    51\n\n     XI. SOME ASPECTS OF PRAIRIE LIFE                    55\n\n    XII. MISSIONS AND MUD HOLES                          62\n\n   XIII. FURTHER PRAIRIE SKETCHES                        71\n\n    XIV. A CAMPING TRIP IN THE ROCKIES                   78\n\n     XV. ON THE RETURN JOURNEY                           81\n\n    XVI. AMONG THE PRAIRIE FARMS                         86\n\n   XVII. BACK TO REGINA                                  93\n\n  XVIII. AN INDIAN RESERVE                               98\n\n    XIX. HEADED FOR HOME                                100\n\n     XX. SOME PRESENT-DAY NEEDS OF THE PRAIRIE          104\n\n  APPENDIX                                              112\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n  MAP OF THE CANADIAN DOMINION IN DIOCESES    _Frontispiece_\n\n  THE CARAVAN AND HER CREW }\n                           }\n  THE INTERIOR OF THE VAN  }               _Facing page_  28\n                           }\n  TIDYING UP               }\n                           }\n  A SHACK ON THE MOVE      }\n\n  DIGGING OUT THE WHEEL                    }\n                                           }\n  THE TENT, AND MY ASSISTANTS AT LOREBURN  }\n                                           }\n  HOUSEHOLD TASKS                          }    \"   \"      48\n                                           }\n  MR. M. AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE ON THE RAIL   }\n    WAY TRACK                              }\n\n  A PRAIRIE SCHOOL                      }\n                                        }\n  A MAPLE-LEAF TEACHER AND HER PUPILS   }\n                                        }\n  PRAIRIE SCHOLARS                      }       \"   \"      71\n                                        }\n  A YOUNG HERDSMAN                      }\n                                        }\n  THE AVENUE AT BANFF, ALBERTA          }\n\n  LAKE LOUISE                       }\n                                    }\n  LUMBER ON THE BOW RIVER           }\n                                    }\n  SLINGING HAY INTO THE BARN        }           \"   \"      80\n                                    }\n  THE CHURCH ON THE INDIAN RESERVE  }\n\n\n\n\n  ACROSS THE PRAIRIE IN A MOTOR CARAVAN\n\n\n  CHAPTER I\n\n  THE CALL OF THE PRAIRIE\n\n\nThe diocese of Qu'Appelle, in the province of Saskatchewan, Western\nCanada, is so named from the Indian story which tells of the maiden who\nlay dying, calling piteously for her lover. He, far off in his canoe on\nthe Saskatchewan River, suddenly heard a voice, and answered:\n\"Qu'Appelle.\" The voice came again, and then he knew it for that of his\nbeloved, and made all speed to her side. But, alas! when he reached her\nshe was dead.\n\n_Qu'Appelle_ is a suggestive title and indicative of the call which so\nmany have heard from the prairie provinces, a twofold call, urging some\nto earthly and some to spiritual husbandry. Some account of the Western\nCanada of to-day may be useful here.\n\nThe exigencies of life on the prairie tend to make men think rather of\nbuilding greater barns than of that day when their souls shall be\nrequired of them. When a man with little capital takes up a prairie\n\"section\" he is gambling with fortune, the welfare of his nearest and\ndearest being at stake. At the same time it is a worthy venture, a\nresponse to the age-old command to till the earth and subdue it; and it\nis often the only way whereby a man may become his own master, a\nlandowner, and one who, in developing the treasures of the earth, adds\nmaterially to the well-being of his fellows. For the wheat from the\nprairies of Western Canada is the hardest and finest in the world.\n\nThe prospective settler buys a section (640 acres), a half or a quarter\nsection, as the case may be, and, helped by a loan from the Government\nfor the purchase of implements, ploughs and sows the virgin soil,\nbuilding a shack for himself and his family. The first three years are\ntouch and go. Drought in early summer or torrential storms in harvest\nwill effectually ruin the crops, but when once a good crop is raised the\nprofit is very satisfactory. The perils of drought and storm, however,\nalways remain, though with increasing capital the risk is lessened. The\nlife is one long wrestling-bout--man's brain and muscle pitted against\nthe forces of nature; but when he is victorious the reward is great.\n\nIt is a virile country peopled with virile men (for only the strong can\n\"make good\" out there). But these men have already realised that man\ncannot live by bread alone. Close to nature, man feels the presence of\nGod. The wide sweep of the prairie, enamelled with a thousand flowers or\ngilded with the ripened corn; the vast dome of the sky; the glorious\nsunsets and awful storms--all make men conscious of the power and might\nand majesty of the Supreme Being. So that beneath the feverish search\nfor wealth there is a deep, if unrealised, thirst for the things of God.\n\nBut many of these sheep have been for years without a shepherd, and such\nknowledge of religion as they once possessed has been choked by the\ncares of this world; and their children--the men and women of the future\non whom so much depends--are growing up in many places without any\nreligious teaching at all. One result of this state of things is that\nthere is no Christian public opinion on which to start this new country.\nIt is even said that it is not unusual to hear men boast: \"We cheat\nothers before they cheat us.\"\n\nAnother terrible result is that, unrestrained by spiritual forces, the\nanimal instincts have gained the upper hand and immorality is rife. In\nthe _Bulletin of Social Service in Saskatchewan_ for June 1, 1920,\nunder the heading: \"Some Measures Urgently Needed,\" No. 10 runs: \"Higher\nstandards in our laws regarding sex offences. Ours are the lowest in the\nEmpire, due to the Senate's repeated rejection of amending measures.\"\n\nA disintegrating factor in the religious and moral life of Western\nCanada is no doubt to be found in the mixture of races and the resultant\nintermarriages. Almost every race and sect is represented. There are\nabout eighty different religions, including many eccentric and obscure\nsects such as \"Daniel's Band,\" \"Doukhobors,\" and \"Holy Rollers.\"\nAccording to the census of 1916 the Christian churches in Saskatchewan\nare numerically strong in the following order: Presbyterian, Roman\nCatholic, Methodist, Anglican, Lutheran, Greek Church, Baptist. The\nproportion of Anglicans has probably increased since then.\n\nIn 1910 the Archbishop of Rupertsland appealed to the Archbishops of\nCanterbury and York to send out clergy to attend to the needs of the\nnumerous British settlers who were pouring into the country. (Between\n1900 and 1920 one million two hundred and fifty thousand persons have\nemigrated from Great Britain to Canada.) The Archbishops' Western Canada\nFund was the answer to this appeal. The cause interested me extremely,\nand I became one of the collectors for the diocese of Carlisle. This\ndiocese raised L3,000 and built St. Cuthbert's Hostel in Regina, and\nlater raised another L1,000 towards the L50,000 needed for the endowment\nof the Western Canada missions.\n\nThree missions were started by the Fund in Edmonton, Southern Alberta,\nand Saskatchewan respectively, but we are only concerned with the\nlatter. In this province many small towns had sprung up owing to the\ngreat influx of immigrants (mostly British) and to the rapid railway\nconstruction, while the surrounding prairie was dotted with isolated\nfarms and hamlets. It was with the special needs of these people that\nthe Regina Railway Mission had to deal. Accordingly, several clergy and\nlaymen went out from England, made the hostel at Regina their\nheadquarters, and visited the surrounding country. They lived in\none-roomed shacks, doing their own \"chores,\" and often driving about\neighty miles on a Sunday in order to take four services a day. They\nreturned to the hostel once a quarter for spiritual refreshment, rest,\nand discussion of their work with the head of the Mission and with each\nother.\n\nMeanwhile, a pioneer movement was on foot in the Old Country. At St.\nChristopher's College, Blackheath, a specialised training in the matter\nand method of religious education had been inaugurated for women\nprepared to undertake this branch of social service. I was asked to\nbecome Diocesan Sunday School Organiser for the diocese of Carlisle, and\nwent to train at St. Christopher's in 1914. There I met Miss Aylmer\nBosanquet and Miss Nona Clarke, and was naturally very interested to\nfind that these new acquaintances were anxious to go out to Regina and\ndo Sunday-school work in connection with the Railway Mission. A firm\nfriendship resulted from this common interest.\n\nAylmer Bosanquet's plan was to go out with Nona Clarke and live on the\nprairie, working amongst the children and supplementing the work of the\nclergy in any other possible way. She proposed to finance the expedition\nentirely herself. At first the Secretary for the Archbishops' Western\nCanada Fund was very dubious about accepting her generous offer, having\nbeen out in Canada himself, and knowing that life in a prairie shack is\nexceedingly hard for gently nurtured women. But Aylmer Bosanquet was so\nurgent that at last she won the day, and she and Nona Clarke went out to\nRegina in 1915. They established themselves at Kenaston, where they\nlived in a three-roomed shack and did all their own work, even to the\ngrooming of the buggy horses.\n\nThe women missioners went up to Regina once a quarter, when the clergy\nand laymen met to discuss their work. They brought valuable\ncontributions to the matter in hand. They had found great ignorance\namongst the children, some of whom did not even know the Lord's Prayer.\nAt their first Christmas they found several children who had never heard\nof the birth of Christ. All that the holy season meant to them was\ncontained in the nursery legend of Father Christmas.\n\nThis ignorance is largely due to there being no Scripture teaching in\nthe public elementary schools, although there is a clause in the\nSaskatchewan Education Act which says that the last half-hour of every\nday may be given to Scripture teaching if the trustees are agreed.\nUnfortunately, they seldom do agree in this matter, as they usually\nbelong to different religious bodies. Nor is there any religious\nteaching in the collegiate schools (which correspond with English high\nschools), even in Regina, the capital of the province. The following\nanswer was given by a collegiate girl in a secular examination: \"When\nWilliam the Conqueror went to England he found no code of laws, and so\nhe drew up the Ten Commandments.\"\n\nAfter about four years of strenuous work, Aylmer Bosanquet fell ill, and\nwas obliged to go into a nursing home at Toronto for a serious\noperation. In the quiet time of convalescence her thoughts were busy\nwith the work so dear to her, and she began to consider the problem of\nthe many children in the enormous diocese of Qu'Appelle, who had no\nSunday school, and who could not be reached by rail or buggy from the\nexisting centres. She felt that the future of the Anglican Church in\nCanada depended upon the religious training of these children, and an\nidea came to her whereby these isolated places might be reached. Her\nplan was that trained women should go out on to the prairie, two and\ntwo, in caravans during the season when the trails are passable. They\nwould gather the children together and start Sunday schools, training\nteachers to carry them on. In the winter they would return to some\ncentral town, whence they would keep in touch with the quite isolated\nchildren by means of the Sunday School by post. They would also lecture\nlocally and give demonstration lessons.\n\nMany of these trained women would be needed if all the children on the\nprairie were to be reached. It would be necessary at first to recruit\nfrom England, but later it might be possible to develop a movement\nalready started, but which had had to be temporarily abandoned for lack\nof a suitable head--namely, a training college for the Dominion of\nCanada on the lines of St. Christopher's, Blackheath.\n\nAylmer Bosanquet wrote to me describing her new plan. She was very\nanxious to see it in operation, for the diocese of Qu'Appelle alone\ncovers 92,000 square miles (about twice the size of England), and two\nwomen, though with the best will in the world, could do comparatively\nlittle in that immense area.\n\nThe project of caravanning on the prairie in the interests of religious\neducation appealed to me very strongly, and as Aylmer Bosanquet soon\nafterwards came home to England to recuperate, we were able to discuss\nthe matter together. Her idea was to have a horse caravan which should\nbe moved on from place to place by the farmers. But as I have lived all\nmy life in an agricultural district, I knew the difficulties consequent\non wanting the use of farm horses in seed-time and harvest--the very\nseasons when the trails are open--and I also knew that horses could\nnever cover the necessary distances. In my own diocesan work, which took\nme to little out-of-the-way villages among the fells of Cumberland and\nWestmorland, I had found it necessary to use a car, and I therefore felt\nit would be best to have a motor caravan.\n\nIt would be worse than useless to take a motor-car on to the rough\nprairie trails unless one had had long driving experience and done a\nconsiderable amount of running repairs. To learn to drive one year and\nto go out the next would probably mean finding yourself in a tight\ncorner. As I had been allowed to use our cars throughout the War, in\nconnection with my Sunday school work and a V.A.D. hospital, I had\nfortunately gained a good deal of practical experience, especially as it\nwas necessary to drive in all weathers, day and night, over the steep\nhills of the Lake District. When these hills were covered in ice your\ncar would run backwards or skid and come down sideways, and these\nhappenings were a useful preparation for the steep, sandy banks of the\ntrail, where the wheels could not grip. Then, too, as our chauffeur was\ncalled up and mechanics were scarce, we had to do our own repairs.\n\nThe diocese having consented to my being absent for six months, I found\na substitute to carry on my work, and began my preparations for the\nprairie tour.\n\n\n\n\n  CHAPTER II\n\n  PREPARATIONS AND DEPARTURE\n\n\nThe first idea was to buy one of the Red Cross motor ambulances then\nbeing sold off in London, but transport difficulties made it impossible\nto take one across. Meanwhile Aylmer Bosanquet, having returned to\nCanada, found that the Saskatchewan Bible Society had a Ford caravan in\nwhich a man could live and sleep, travelling about the province with\nBibles. Also, Archdeacon Burgett, the Diocesan Missioner for Qu'Appelle,\nwas having a Ford caravan built for two of his mission clergy. She sent\nme details of these vans, and I asked her to order me a similar one, the\ninterior fittings to be decided upon when I came out in the spring.\n\nThe next thing to do was to find a fellow-worker for the tour; and this\nwas by no means easy, for she must not only have been trained at St.\nChristopher's and be physically strong, but she must be prepared to pay\nher own expenses, there being as yet no fund to finance the venture.\nFortunately, however, an experienced ex-student, Miss Winifred\nTicehurst, offered to go. She had trained at St. Christopher's soon\nafter its foundation, and had since had considerable experience in\nSunday-school and parish work.\n\nThen came the difficulty of getting passages and passports. These would\nnever have been granted had we not been able to prove that we were going\nout to work. After the trials consequent on a visit to Cook's agent the\nfollowing incident in the current _Punch_ seemed peculiarly apposite.\nScene: The office of a travel bureau. Clerk (helping nervous-looking\nlady to fill up form): \"And the address of the nearest relation to whom\nthe body may be sent if found dead?\"\n\nI intended to travel via New York, in order to visit some cousins. I had\nheard of the fame of the U.S.A. Sunday-schools, and wished to see some\nof them. I also hoped to meet Dr. Gardner, the Secretary of the\nExecutive Committee of the Department of Religious Education for the\nAmerican Episcopal Church. It was therefore necessary to get my passport\nvisaed at the American Consulate, and on presenting the customary letter\nof recommendation from a clergyman I was much amused when the clerk eyed\nme suspiciously and remarked: \"A letter from a clergyman is nothing to\ngo by. They are so easily taken in.\"\n\nThe question of equipment had taken considerable thought, and the result\nseems worth setting down, in view of its possible service to others. The\nchief items were: a motorist's 1919 tent with bamboo poles,\nsleeping-bags, a double Primus stove and a Tommy cooker, a ferrostate\nflask and two thermos flasks, canvas buckets, clothes both for winter\nand summer (landworkers' suits for driving the caravan, which,\nunfortunately, the Canadians regarded as displaying an undue amount of\n\"limb\"!). Then, for use in the prairie schools, sets of Nelson's\npictures and Sunday School Institute models (given me by the Girls'\nDiocesan Association for Carlisle diocese), and a case of books of\ngraded lesson courses and a quantity of postcard pictures of \"The Hope\nof the World\" and \"The New Epiphany.\" A tip from an experienced\ntraveller proved most useful. This was to fasten the packing-cases with\nbands of tin nailed on, instead of with ropes, as the latter frequently\nbreak when the cases are swung aboard ship, scattering the contents on\ndeck.\n\nIn February, 1920, we embarked at Liverpool for New York. Winifred\nTicehurst was to meet me at the boat, and my feelings may be imagined as\nthe time drew on, the friends seeing me off had to leave, and still no\nfellow-traveller appeared. At last, five minutes before they raised the\ngangway, she ran up, breathless. Her passport had not been dated in\nLondon, and they had sent her back from the boat to get it dated at the\nAmerican Consulate in Liverpool. It was an ill-omened opening for her\nvoyage, which proved one of great discomfort, as she was more or less\nill for a week. She managed to write descriptive letters, all the same,\nand the following extract is a vivid portrait of our fellow-travellers\n(we went second-class to save expense).\n\n\"The young men and maidens . . . sit about on one another's laps, and\nthe correct way to get ready for lunch is, when you hear the gong, to\npart yourself from your companion, pull a comb out of your pocket and do\nyour hair--then you are ready.\"\n\nI did not suffer from sea-sickness myself, and never missed a meal.\nIndeed, the waiters seemed greatly intrigued at my appetite, and I\nfancy, from the way they pressed the various courses, that they were\nbetting on how much I could eat!\n\nA day or two before we reached New York there was a horrid orgy on\nboard. Knowing that they were entering a \"dry\" country, many of the\npassengers got drunk, shouting and raging all night long, so that one\ncould not sleep. On the prairie I afterwards found other ill-effects of\nprohibition--the smuggling of spirits and excessive drug-taking, the\nlatter chiefly amongst women. Before passing such laws it surely would\nhave been advisable to have created a stronger public opinion to support\nthem. Otherwise there is danger of finding two evils in the place of\none.\n\nOn the other hand, future generations should benefit greatly by this\nmeasure, however imperfectly it now works. It seems improbable that the\nhealth and industrial prosperity of non-prohibition countries will equal\nthose of \"dry\" countries.\n\nThe day before we entered New York we got into the end of a blizzard.\nThere was a tremendously high sea, and we moved very little that day. We\nreceived a wireless message from a ship just out of a Canadian port\nwhich had struck a rock in the storm, but we were too far off to go to\nher assistance.\n\nOur stay in New York proved to be an amazing and exhilarating\nexperience. The palatial manner in which, in a private house, one is\nassigned one's own \"compartments,\" would have satisfied Mr. Salteena;\nand the restaurants are a paradise for the discerning palate. A brief\nbut thorough experience of American luxury in a great city was, from its\nvery contrast, a fitting prelude to the rough life of the prairie. You\nget a more complete picture with strongly-drawn lights and shades.\n\n\n\n\n  CHAPTER III\n\n  RELIGIOUS EDUCATION IN THE U.S.A. AND CANADA\n\n\nThere is a very remarkable system of religious education in New York,\nBoston, Detroit, Cleveland, and many other cities. The entire\neducational work of the Church in the United States is under the\ndirection of the Department of Religious Education of the National\nCouncil (called in the United States \"The Presiding Bishop and\nCouncil\"). The Department of Education has several divisions:\nTheological Seminaries, Church Boarding Schools (the same as Public\nSchools in England), Church Sunday Schools, Week-day Schools, work among\nstudents in State Universities, Pageantry, etc.\n\nAll Church School teachers are urged to go to Normal Schools. These are\nsuccessfully operated in New York City, Boston, Detroit, and Cleveland.\nThe teacher attends the Normal School once a month and receives\ninstruction from an expert in Child Study, Psychology, and Methods, and\nalso has an opportunity to discuss the outlines and illustrations for\nthe four lessons which are to be taught the following month. The lesson\nmaterial is from the Christian Nurture Series. This Series is a most\nup-to-date graded course for children from four to seventeen years of\nage.\n\nWeek-day schools are provided for children who are excused from the\npublic schools (that is, the great schools supported entirely by State\nfunds) for one hour or more each week for religious instruction under\nthe Church of his parents' affiliation. These schools stand for the\nco-operation of the Church and State in the education of the child. The\nState does not technically release the child for religious instruction,\nbut honours the request of the parent and excuses the child for extra\neducational work desired by the parent.\n\nIt is realised in America that religious education cannot be successful\nwithout the co-operation of the parents, therefore the Christian Nurture\nSeries provides a \"Monthly Letter to Parents\" to be forwarded regularly\nby the teacher. These letters explain clearly what is required for the\npreparation of each Sunday's lesson during the week. Social gatherings\nare also arranged for the parents from time to time, at which an address\nis given bearing upon the importance of the religious training of the\nchild, and calculated to enlist parental interest and co-operation.\n\nAn interesting example of the practical application of these principles\nwas afforded by a visit to what we should call in England an \"upper\nclass\" Sunday School. I had already met the superintendent, Miss Warren,\nand she had explained one most interesting feature of her\nsystem--namely, that each month she held a staff meeting of parents and\nteachers to discuss the lesson, the children, and the school. In each\ndepartment of the school there was a superintendent; a grade leader who\nensured a continual supply of teachers (absentees having to send in\ntheir names to her beforehand); a teacher and an assistant teacher for\neach class, the latter being there to learn her art; and a pupil teacher\nto hear the memory work. Some of the teachers received a salary, and all\nthe children paid a small entrance fee. These fees, however, did not\nsuffice for expenses, owing to the very good apparatus in use, but the\ndeficit was made up by the church.\n\nA conspicuous feature of the school was a large diagram which hung near\nthe superintendent's table. It consisted of five rings: the small\ncentral circle represented \"Parish and Home,\" the next ring \"Community,\"\nthe next \"Diocese,\" the next \"Nation,\" and the outer ring \"The World.\"\nAt the end of the session an appeal was made by the secretary each\nSunday for one of the above \"fields of service,\" which took the form of\na stirring address on the need for supporting the work. The secretaries\nwere always some of the elder pupils, and their appeals were remarkably\nwell expressed for such young persons. After the address the secretaries\nof each class were asked to vote a sum of money for the cause, which\nthey did after discussion with their class-mates. The school had a\nchoir of girls led by a talented musician, and they all united to teach\nthe children hymns.\n\nMiss Warren took me to see Dr. Gardner, and, considering the excellence\nof the system at which the American religious educationist aims, it was\nencouraging to find him taking great interest in the proposed caravan\ntour. He even went so far as to ask for details of the plan, and to\nrequest that an account might be sent to him for publication. On the\nappearance of this article he appealed for volunteers and money in order\nto start a similar campaign on the plains of the U.S.A., where no\nreligious instruction was at present provided for the children.\n\nAfter ten days in New York, we went on to stay with friends in Toronto.\nHere we took the opportunity of inquiring into the methods of, and\nopportunities for, religious education in Canada. We were greatly helped\nin this by an introduction to the Rev. Dr. Hiltz, General Secretary of\nthe General Board of Religious Education for the Church of England in\nthe Dominion of Canada. The following is a summary of the information\ngiven by him or gleaned from other sources.\n\nUnder the British North America Act of 1867 the right to legislate on\nmatters respecting education was reserved exclusively to the Provincial\nLegislatures subject to the maintenance of the rights and privileges of\nthe denominational and separate schools as existing at the time of the\nunion or admission of provinces to the union.\n\nThis gave to the Roman Catholics in the Province of Ontario the right to\nhave separate schools, and to the Protestants in the Province of Quebec\na similar right. In other provinces of the Dominion, with the exception\nof Saskatchewan and Alberta, however, separate public schools have no\nlegal standing. The right to have separate schools in the Provinces of\nAlberta and Saskatchewan was conceded to these provinces when they were\nadmitted to the Dominion.\n\nSo far as religious education in the public schools in Canada is\nconcerned, the following brief summary will give some idea of the\nsituation and at the same time strongly emphasise the need.\n\nIn _Nova Scotia_ the matter is largely in the hands of the local\nauthorities. So long as no one objects, religious instruction may be\ngiven in accordance with the wishes of the majority of the supporters of\nthe school.\n\nIn _New Brunswick_ schools _may_ be opened with the reading of Scripture\nand the use of the Lord's Prayer, but as this regulation is permissive\nonly, everything depends upon the individual teacher.\n\nIn _Prince Edward Island_ the reading of the Bible at the opening of\nschool is authorised.\n\nIn _Quebec_ in the Protestant schools the first half-hour of each day is\ndevoted to religious exercises and instruction in morals and Scripture.\n\nIn _Ontario_ the public school _must_ be opened with the reading of\nScripture and the repeating of the Lord's Prayer, or the prayer\nauthorised by the Department. Religious instruction may be given by the\nclergyman to the pupils of his denomination once a week after school\nhours.\n\nIn _Manitoba_ ministers of the various religious communions have the\nright to go into the schools at 3.30 once a week and give the children\nreligious instruction.\n\nIn _Saskatchewan_ and _Alberta_ the School Board may permit religious\ninstruction to be given during the last half-hour of the day, and may\ndirect that the school be opened with the recitation of the Lord's\nPrayer.\n\nIn _British Columbia_ no provision is made for religious instruction,\nbut the Lord's Prayer may be used in opening and closing the school.\n\nIn most large towns and many villages of the Dominion of Canada there\nare well-organised Sunday schools. Some of the dioceses have in the past\nhad Diocesan Sunday School Organisers. The Diocese of Rupert's Land was\na pioneer in this direction, and the Dioceses of Toronto and Huron have\nalso had such officials. The City of Ottawa for several years had a\nresident Anglican Sunday School Organiser, an ex-student of St.\nChristopher's College.\n\nThe religious educational work of the Church in Canada is organised\nunder the General Synod, the General Board of Religious Education being\nthe officially appointed body for the promotion of this work. It began\nas a Sunday School Commission in 1908, but in 1918 was enlarged to a\nBoard of Religious Education.\n\nIts work falls into five departments, namely:\n\n1. _The Department of Parochial Education._\n\n  This department concerns itself with:\n\n  (_a_) Religious education through the agency of the home.\n\n  (_b_) Religious education through the agency of the Sunday School.\n\n  (_c_) Religious education through the agency of Adult Bible Classes and\n  Young People's organisations.\n\n2. _The Department of Religious Education in Public and Private\nSchools._\n\n  This department concerns itself with religious education in public and\n  high schools and in church boarding schools.\n\n3. _The Department of Teacher Training._\n\n  This department concerns itself with:\n\n  (_a_) The training of teachers and officers in the local Sunday School.\n\n  (_b_) Teacher training in church boarding schools.\n\n  (_c_) Training for leadership in provincial normal schools.\n\n  (_d_) The training of students in our theological colleges in religious\n  pedagogy.\n\n4. _The Lantern Slide Department._\n\n  This department concerns itself with the promotion of educational work\n  through the medium of the lantern in all branches of the Church's\n  activities.\n\n5. _The Editorial Department._\n\n  This department concerns itself with the providing of suitable material\n  for use in the promotion of religious education through the other\n  departments, including the preparation and publication of the necessary\n  lesson helps for teachers and pupils.\n\nIn connection with the work of the Parochial Department, an interesting\nattempt has been made to reach the people in the scattered districts\nthrough what is known as \"The Sunday School by Post.\" This is\npractically the only way in which isolated families can be helped who\nare too far away to make attendance at Sunday school possible, and too\nfew in numbers to support a school of their own. This Sunday School by\nPost sends out monthly and weekly graded lesson helps, each lesson\nhaving its own illustrations, questions, memory work, prayers, and Bible\nreadings for each week. The parents are asked to see that the child has\nample opportunity to do the written work, and this is returned to the\nDiocesan Secretary for the Sunday School by Post for examination and\ncorrection.\n\nSunday School by Post secretaries are now working in the Dioceses of\nQu'Appelle, Saskatchewan, Calgary, Edmonton, and Athabasca, and, now\nthat the General Board of Religious Education has a western field\nsecretary at work, in the person of the Rev. W. Simpson, it is hoped\nthat other dioceses may be led to establish work similar to this to\nreach the church people in the more distant settlements.\n\nWithout some such help as this the parents usually find it impossible to\ngive their children religious instruction. They have little time for\nthought or study, and have frequently forgotten what they once knew. But\ntheir interest is very keen when roused, as the following incident\nproves. In one of the public schools, during the history hour, the\nteacher read part of the story of Joseph, but not having time to read\nthe whole of it promised to finish it next day. One child, thrilled by\nthe story and impatient for the end, went home and asked his parents if\nthey could finish it for him. \"Joseph!\" they said, \"Joseph! Surely we\nhave heard that name somewhere.\" At last they remembered that it was a\nbiblical name. A long search finally revealed the Bible, dusty from long\nneglect, and a further search discovered the story, which was read with\nintense interest by parents and child alike. When the latter went to\nschool next day he proudly told his class-mates how the fascinating\nadventure ended.\n\nIn connection with the Parochial Department, much is also being done for\nthe training of boys and girls of the \"teen\" age. With a view to meeting\nthe needs of these young people, a Council on Boys' Work, a Council on\nGirls' Work, and a Council on Young People's Work have been formed,\nwhose chief task it is to prepare and issue definite programmes of\nmid-week activities for organised groups of older boys and girls and\nyoung people. The plan which is largely followed is that known as the\nfourfold plan, the aim being to develop these adolescents physically,\nintellectually, socially, and spiritually. The programmes are of such a\ncharacter that they can be worked out through any type of organisation\ndesired, whether it is with an organised class in Sunday School, a Boy\nScout or Girl Guide Troop, Trail Rangers, Tuxis Square, or Anglican\nYoung People's Association.\n\nThe publication work of the Board is extensive, lesson courses and\nhelps, both for teachers and pupils, being provided for all departments\nfrom the little beginners to the adult Bible classes. These constitute\nthe official lesson schemes of the Church of England in Canada, and are\nused in the great majority of the schools.\n\nA very effective piece of work is being done by the Teacher Training\nDepartment, which not only provides courses of training for teacher\ntraining classes in the local parish, but has also made provision for\ndefinite teacher training work to be carried on amongst the Anglican\nstudents in attendance at the Normal Schools in the provinces of Ontario\nand Quebec. In addition to this, definite courses of training are\nprovided for the students in attendance at the Church of England\nDeaconess and Missionary Training School in Toronto, and in the various\ntheological colleges of the Church of England. In five of these latter,\nthe General Secretary of the Board of Religious Education lectures\nregularly.\n\nAnother important channel for the promotion of teacher training work is\nthat provided through Summer Schools, which are held regularly at\nstrategic centres from the Maritime Provinces to British Columbia. These\nschools are conducted under the auspices of the three Boards of the\nChurch--namely, the Missionary Society, the Board of Religious\nEducation, and the Council for Social Service.\n\nDr. Hiltz kindly showed interest in our caravan project, and said that\nif it proved possible of accomplishment he would like a report of the\nwork at the end of the season. He remarked that there was great need for\nwork of the kind.\n\n\n\n\n  CHAPTER IV\n\n  LIFE IN A LITTLE PRAIRIE TOWN\n\n\nWe had arranged to work at Regina until the season was sufficiently\nadvanced for us to take the road, but before leaving Toronto I heard\nthat my caravan was not yet begun. This was exceedingly worrying, as it\nwas now the middle of March, and I wished to start on the prairie by May\n1, when the trails should be open. I had only six months' leave from my\ndiocese, and was anxious to make the most of it, and now it seemed as if\nthe whole plan would be spoilt by this delay over the caravan. I\ndetermined to stop at Winnipeg on my way to Regina in order to see about\nthe matter, and to bring what influence I could to bear upon the\ncoach-building firm. As a member of the Victoria League,[1] I had an\nintroduction to a Daughter of the Empire at Winnipeg, and I wrote and\nasked her to use her influence in getting my order for the caravan put\nthrough without further delay. Then, arming myself with a letter from an\nofficial of the Royal Bank of Canada, stating that I was to be relied\nupon to carry out my business transactions, I had a \"stop-over\" for\nWinnipeg put on our tickets, and on arrival in that town went straight\nto the coachbuilder's office. The Daughter of the Empire had telephoned\nto the firm, and this, with the official's letter, had the desired\neffect. The manager was most civil and obliging, and promised to do\neverything in his power to carry out the contract. To my surprise I\nfound that the order for the caravan had never been received, the firm\nthrough which it had been given never having transmitted it. When I\npressed for a promise that the van should be finished by May 1, adding\nthat otherwise I should not pay for it, the manager, knowing that I came\nfrom the land of labour troubles, said, with a twinkle in his eye: \"Yes,\nif there isn't a strike.\"\n\nI spent some hours in attending to the details of the van, and then we\nwent on to Regina by the night train, arriving there next morning. The\nclergy of the Railway Mission gave us hospitality at first, then\nWinifred Ticehurst went to work in St. Peter's parish, and lived at the\nvicarage, and I went to St. Mary's parish, and lived in lodgings.\n\nSoon after I arrived in Regina Aylmer Bosanquet asked me to go out to\nher at Kenaston for a week-end. I was thankful that I was going to make\nmy cross-country journeys by caravan when I found that it was no unusual\nthing for the trains in Western Canada to be three hours late in\nstarting. This was so much a matter of course that a\nfellow-traveller--one of the Railway Mission clergy, who was going up to\nKenaston to take service on the Sunday--telephoned to the station from\nthe Mission-house before attempting to catch the train. These automatic\ntelephones were a feature of every house in Regina, and were also\ninstalled in all parish halls and public buildings. The person using\nthem could switch on to the desired number without calling up through\nthe Exchange.\n\nIt was a five hours' journey to Kenaston, which is a typical prairie\ntown--just a wide earth road, with wooden side-walks, and bordered on\neither side by wooden shacks. Even in Regina all but the main streets\nare of this unpaved earth, and when the snow is melting or after heavy\nrain this earth turns into thick and sticky mud (called \"gumbo\"), which\ncakes on your boots in lumps of incredible hardness, so that you often\nfind yourself walking with one foot higher than the other. It is so hard\nthat it can only be scraped off with a knife. Of course one has to clean\none's own boots, unless one is near a \"Shoe-shine Parlour\" in some\nlarge town.\n\nKenaston is surrounded by illimitable prairie, across which one can see\nfor twenty or thirty miles. When I first saw it the prairie was covered\nwith snow, stained crimson in the West by the red glow of the setting\nsun. An unforgettable sight.\n\nThe town has a lumber-yard and several elevators, both of which are\nfound in every town situated close to the \"track\"--_i.e._, the railway.\nThe lumber (trees sawn into boards) is sent down from British Columbia\nand other parts for building shacks, etc., there being no timber trees\non the prairie. The elevator is a high granary for storing the wheat\ntill it is sent away by train.\n\nSmall as the place is there are three churches--Anglican, Roman\nCatholic, and Evangelical Lutheran. In many places there is a \"Union\"\nChurch and Sunday school. This is a sort of co-operative Nonconformity,\nthe ministers of the different denominations officiating alternately.\nPresbyterians have united in this matter with the other non-episcopal\nsects. The plan has been adopted to economise in men and money; but its\nweak point seems to be that, as the ministers have to please all\ndenominations, the teaching is apt to become wishy-washy. A possible\nalternative occurred to me--namely, that all the religious bodies of a\ngiven area should combine to build a church, which could then be used\nfor their own special services at different hours. But, of course, this\nplan would not economise in men.\n\nAylmer Bosanquet's shack had three rooms, all on the ground floor, with\na veranda reached by steps. All the wooden houses have a basement\nbeneath them, dug out of the earth and concreted. This helps to keep the\nhouses dry and warm, and in the larger ones the furnace for the central\nheating is placed here. A stove going night and day is absolutely\nessential in the winter, as it is often forty or fifty degrees below\nzero. But the cold is not felt as severely as might be expected because\nof the dry, sunny atmosphere.\n\nLife in a shack was a distinct contrast from life in New York. My\nhostesses slept together in a bed 2-1/2 feet wide in order to accommodate\ntheir guest. In the dark of the wintry morning, about 7 a.m., I roused\nup sleepily to find Aylmer Bosanquet bringing me hot water, herself\nfully dressed and armed with logs, just going out to light the stove in\nthe church, so that it might be warm when the people came at eight\no'clock.\n\nSt. Colomba's was a typical prairie church, square built, without a\nchancel, the plainness of the walls only accentuating the richness of\nthe altar furnishings. The walls were hung with framed Nelson pictures,\nwhich lent beauty and atmosphere to the church, and suggested meditation\non holy things to all who entered. Most of the pictures were Aylmer\nBosanquet's gifts, and the little wooden font, with its brass basin, was\ngiven by the Sunday School children. The splendid attendance at Holy\nCommunion and Morning Prayer showed that the adornment of the church was\nthe expression of a real love for religion. The hearty way in which the\ncongregation joined in the services was very striking. Their mutual\nfriendliness also was pleasant to see, and gave point to the usual\ngreeting: \"Pleased to meet you!\" murmured in broken English even by the\nChinese member of the congregation, a phrase which left me at a loss for\na suitable reply until I hit upon the plan of always saying it first.\n\nPreparation for the afternoon Sunday School was somewhat hampered by the\nnecessity for cooking lunch at the same time, and the peas got burnt\nwhile the sand-tray was being prepared. At this unpropitious moment Mr.\nG., the Mission clergyman, looked in to smoke a surreptitious pipe,\nremoved from the disapproving gaze of his flock, who have no sympathy\nwith this form of self-indulgence on the part of their spiritual\npastors. Unfortunately, in peas versus tobacco, peas won, and with a\ndiscerning sniff Mr. G. remarked: \"You seem to be having very strange\nfood.\" Which was the more disconcerting as the shack owners had more\nthan once been reproved for their carelessness of their own comfort.\n\nThis first experience of a prairie Sunday School was indicative of the\nproblems to be faced. It was held perforce in the church, a necessity\nwith which I was familiar in my little schools on the fells. There were\nonly sixteen children at Kenaston, their ages ranging from two to\nseventeen, so that the grading of lessons and devotions was difficult.\nThe intelligence and interest displayed by these children were very\nremarkable. They did credit to the excellent teaching they had received.\n\nThe women missioners had classes in three other places, and held\npreparation classes for young teachers, thus training up a supply of\nteachers from among the young girls of the neighbourhood. The influence\nof the missioners' lives on these young girls was very wonderful.\n\nOn the Sunday evening there was no service at Kenaston because Mr. G.\nhad gone on to take one elsewhere, so we went round to visit the parents\nand children. It was noticeable how beloved the missioners were. With\nsome of the old people they held an informal service, which was greatly\nappreciated.\n\nAylmer and Nona intended to go out on the prairie that summer, in a\ndifferent direction from that which I should take, of course, as we\nwanted to cover as much ground as possible. Aylmer had ordered a Ford\nroadster, which is a two-seater Ford with a folding camp-equipment\nattached. This caravanning was a subject of enthralling interest to both\nof us.\n\nLife in a shack is a very busy one, but one soon got used to the\ninevitable chores, and remembered to keep the pan of melting snow on the\nstove always filled, this being the only water available for washing up.\nThe shortage of water is one of the great trials of prairie life. When I\nremembered Aylmer's house in England, with its well-trained servants,\nher car and chauffeur, and all the luxuries to which she had always been\naccustomed, it emphasised all the more strongly the self-sacrifice of\nher present life.\n\nOn the Monday morning I wanted to telephone to Regina, and as my hostess\nsaid they were always allowed to use a neighbour's telephone, I took\nadvantage of this neighbourly kindness. Whilst waiting for the long\ndistance call I remembered that mutual assistance is the custom of the\nWest, and helped to make the beds and sweep the house. It was about\nmid-day before I had finished with the telephone, and so I was pressed\nto stay for dinner. No newcomer is a stranger in that hospitable\ncountry. They were Yorkshire people and seemed delighted to meet another\nNorth Country person.\n\nIt was a typical West Canadian meal. It began with boiled Indian corn\nserved with white sauce, then meat and potatoes, and then delicious\ncanned fruit served with iced layer cake, the whole accompanied by\nstrong tea. It is difficult to do as Rome does until you know what Rome\ndoes do, and with agony the guest realised that she had nothing\nwherewith to eat the canned fruit before her, having been too engrossed\nin conversation to notice the removal of her knife, fork, and spoon.\nLike Chinese chop-sticks, these should have been retained throughout the\nmeal. The scarcity of water necessitates these little economies.\n\n[Footnote 1: An organisation started in memory of Queen Victoria to bind\ntogether the members of the Empire.]\n\n\n\n\n  CHAPTER V\n\n  IN REGINA\n\n\nWithin the last twenty years Regina, the capital of Saskatchewan, has\ngrown from a colony of wooden huts to a town of over 26,000 inhabitants.\nGovernment House and the Parliament Buildings are finely built of stone,\nbut most of the houses are of wood, there being no quarries on the\nprairie. One not infrequently meets one of these wooden houses moving\nalong the streets--a fascinating accomplishment. When you wish to live\nin another part of the town you simply have your house lifted on to\nwooden blocks and skids, and it is then moved bodily with a windlass\nturned by horses or machinery. One day I went house-hunting quite\nliterally, chasing my elusive quarry from street to street with a\ncamera.\n\nWe stayed in Regina for eight weeks, giving lectures and holding\ndemonstration classes. We were invited to visit parents and teachers,\nwhich we were very glad to do, as by this means we became acquainted\nwith most interesting people, and saw how life is lived in this part of\nthe world.\n\nThere are four Anglican churches in Regina, St. Paul's having a splendid\nparish hall. But Anglicanism only comes fourth in numbers and wealth\nhere, as it does in Western Canada as a whole. The Presbyterians are the\nmost numerous, and have a fine church with a conspicuous tower.\nMethodism is also very strong. The Roman Catholics have built a\nbeautiful cathedral on the highest part of the town, with two fine\nspires which form a landmark for miles around. Underneath the cathedral\nis a large parish hall with rooms for various purposes, and this economy\nof space allows room for two tennis-courts in the cathedral grounds.\n\nA large piece of ground has been acquired for the site of the Anglican\ncathedral, but this has not yet been begun, because it was thought\nbetter, whilst funds were low, to build the theological college and the\ngirls' school first. Aylmer Bosanquet gave L1,000 to start this\nschool,[2] a project in which she took great interest. It is under the\nmanagement of the Anglican sisters of St. John the Divine. It supplies a\nlong-felt want, being the only Anglican Church boarding school in this\npart of the West. It has now taken over St. Chad's College, which was\noriginally built for divinity students, but as their numbers were\ngreatly depleted by the War, St. Cuthbert's Hostel is now large enough\nfor their needs. Unfortunately, in many cases the children's schooling\ndepends upon the crops. Only comparatively well-to-do parents are able\nto send their children regularly. Before they have made their way, or\nwhen the crops fail, they have to depend upon the public schools. To\nhelp such parents several bursaries have been given, but others are\nneeded.\n\nAfter my week-end at Kenaston I settled down to work in Regina until the\ntrails were ready. My vicar made arrangements for me to lodge with a\ncharming family--a Mr. and Mrs. W. and their two daughters. They had\ncome out from England about twenty years before, and the girls were\nthorough Canadians and very delightful creatures. Mrs. W. made me feel\nlike one of the family, and mothered me in countless ways. She taught me\nhow to use the Canadian washing-machine, a thing not unlike a churn. You\nwash the clothes simply by turning a handle--so many times for white\nthings and so many times for coloured. She also showed me how to iron my\nblouses, and, above all, helped me to buy the equipment for the caravan.\nHer advice here was invaluable, as she not only knew the best \"stores\"\nand what a thing ought to cost, but she also interpreted Canadian\nterminology, such as \"coal oil\" for paraffin, \"wood alcohol\" for\nmethylated spirits, and \"gasolene\" for petrol.\n\nMr. W. was equally helpful, and I soon came to regard him as an\nencyclopedia of useful information, especially with regard to practical\nbusiness matters. Having lived on the prairie, he also gave me many\nvaluable tips about prairie life.\n\nThe girls were members of the choir, and one was a Sunday School\nteacher, and by meeting their friends and going about with them I gained\nan insight into the life of young Canada. Pretty faces, very smart\nclothes, instant friendliness, swiftness in uptake, a keen interest in\nwork and play, and a worthy ambition are some of the characteristics of\nthese young people. The \"movies\" and ice-cream play a large part in\ntheir lives. The girls usually marry very young and have a large circle\nof admirers from whom to choose. Winifred Ticehurst sketched them as\nfollows in one of her letters: \"Choir girls, mortar boards and tassels,\nmost chic; surplices and cassocks, curls each side of mortar\nboards . . . white Eton collars like little boys.\"\n\nOne of the social activities which interested me very much was the\nCanadian Girls in Training, organised by the Council on Girls' Work.\nThey gave a banquet while I was in Regina, and one of the W. girls asked\nme to go as her \"mother,\" it being the custom for each of them to invite\na parent or some older person. I was much struck by the excellent\nspeeches made by the girls. They explained the object of the\norganisation, and gracefully thanked all those who had helped towards\nits success.\n\nAnother very interesting social gathering which I attended was a\nreception given by the Daughters of the Empire in the Parliament\nBuildings. I had received introductions to all the members of this\nassociation living in any of the towns where I was likely to go. The\nPresident thought that it would be interesting for us to meet the\nmembers who were coming in from all parts of Saskatchewan, and who might\nhelp us on the caravan tour. We were also introduced to Premier Martin,\nwho was then Minister of Education for Saskatchewan. He gave a most\ninteresting address on the rural schools, and after hearing about our\nproject promised to give us introductions to the day school teachers in\nthe places we hoped to visit.\n\nFurther official encouragement resulted from an introduction to the\nLieutenant-Governor, Sir Richard Lake. He welcomed me as a compatriot,\nas he had been educated at Heversham Grammar School, in Westmorland. We\nhad an interesting talk on prairie trails and motoring, and the need for\nreligious education in the day schools. He was strongly in favour of\nthis, and expressed regret for the continual opposition to it.\n\nThe Daughters of the Empire sent the editor of a Regina newspaper to\ninterview me. She questioned me on what I had done during the War, the\nreason for our coming out, and the places we intended to visit. The\nresult was an embarrassingly flattering article in the local paper,\nwhich was copied by the _Saskatchewan Star_. A few weeks later the\nfollowing notice appeared in another paper: \"Bachelors, beware! Two\nwomen are going in a caravan on the prairie. This is Leap Year!\"\n\nIn Regina I met some very nice girls who had come out under the\nFellowship of the Maple Leaf.[3] They had come to teach in the prairie\nschools, and a good many were now in training at the Normal School. I\ngave a tea-party for them, and they told me a good deal about their\nwork, and in return showed great interest in our caravan scheme. Those\nof them who were going out to the prairie that summer said that they\nhoped we would visit them. I was very glad of this opportunity of\nexplaining our hopes and aims to these teachers, for I knew it had been\nsuggested that they should help with religious education, either by\nstarting Sunday Schools or by giving instruction after school hours\nduring the week. I foresaw that our great difficulty would be to make\nour work permanent in districts where there were no clergy, and I\nrealised the enormous value of the help of these trained women. They\nwould already have some knowledge of teaching methods, and some\nacquaintance with the Bible and Church doctrine. It would be a simple\nmatter to show them how to apply psychological methods to religious\neducation, and, helped with lesson courses and pictures, they could\neasily carry on any Sunday Schools we might be able to start in their\nneighbourhood.\n\nWe did not talk shop all the time; the \"green Englishwomen\" were put\nthrough a severe catechism on Canadian as it is spoken. But the W.\nfamily having instructed me carefully, I came off better than might have\nbeen expected.\n\nI saw a good deal of the deaconess in charge of the Maple Leafs. She\nfound them comfortable lodgings, and befriended them in every possible\nway. She asked us to look up any of them whom we came across in the\nout-of-the-way prairie schools. Her only way of visiting was by train,\nand some of these schools were far from any \"track.\" She was very kind\nto us and helped us in many ways.\n\nWhilst I was in Regina I had to plan out the organisation of the caravan\ntour. I was given the names of a large number of places to visit and the\nroutes we were to follow, but no names of the clergy in the different\n\"districts\" (parishes). I had no idea how far apart these places were,\nor how long it would take to get from place to place in the caravan. I\ntherefore got a map and worked out the mileage between the places. On\nthe earth trails outside Regina I had often seen motor-cars stuck in\nmud-holes, and I had noticed the deep ruts of these unmetalled roads, so\nI concluded that we could not make more than ten miles an hour at most\nin the caravan. On these two calculations I based the mileage we might\nhope to cover.\n\nWhen at last I obtained the names of the clergy on my proposed route, I\nfound that there were large areas in which there were no Anglican\nclergymen at all. I then wrote to the clergy, and, lacking these, the\nleading laity when I could find their names. In some cases this was\nimpossible until I neared their district. In these letters I made the\nfollowing suggestions. We should like to come and stay a week in their\nlocality, living and sleeping in the caravan and doing our own cooking\n(I wished to make it clear that we should not be burdensome), but we\nshould be glad to receive invitations and hospitality at times in order\nto get to know the people. Where there was a Sunday School in existence,\nwe proposed to superintend the school and teach, while the teachers\nwatched. Where there was no Sunday School, we should like to have the\nchildren gathered together to form one. In this case we hoped that\nprospective teachers would come to be shown how to teach, that they\nmight carry on the school when we had started it, helped by the books\nand pictures which we proposed to leave them. We also requested the\ntrustees to allow us to give Scripture lessons in the day schools in the\nhalf-hour allotted for that purpose, and also expressed our great desire\nto meet the parents, that we might discuss with them the problems of\nreligious education.\n\nI received most kind replies to these letters. The writers offered us a\nhearty welcome, and said how pleased they would be to have people coming\nout to them, for, as a rule, they had little help in these matters,\nbeyond an invitation to a summer school just when the harvest was in\nfull swing.\n\nI should add here what I had been most careful to explain--namely, that\nwe were given diocesan authority for our work by Archdeacon Dobie, D.D.,\nwho was acting as Commissary for the Bishop owing to the latter's\nbreakdown through overwork, and by Archdeacon Burgett, the Chairman of\nthe Sunday School Diocesan Association, who was also Diocesan\nMissioner.\n\n[Footnote 2: The Qu'Appelle Diocesan Boarding School for Girls.]\n\n[Footnote 3: See Appendix I.]\n\n\n\n\n  CHAPTER VI\n\n  THE MOTOR CARAVAN\n\n\nWhilst in Regina waiting for the caravan to be ready for the road I took\nsteps to be ready for the van. I had never driven a Ford, but Aylmer\nBosanquet's Ford roadster arrived whilst I was in Regina, and she\nallowed me to have lessons on it. It was quite easy to drive, and on the\nsecond day I took it out alone. I also went to a motor school and had a\ncourse of lessons on Ford running repairs and vulcanising tyres. The\nhead man was exceedingly nice, and took infinite pains to help me in\nevery way. I was the only woman in the shop, but there were a great many\nmen learning motor-tractor work preparatory to working on the prairie\nfarms. Most of them had been in the army. They took a most embarrassing\ninterest in me and my future plans, putting me through the usual\ncatechism, with the inevitable leading question: \"Are you married?\" They\nseemed to think it was not fit for two women to go out alone on the\nprairie, as in Western Canada women hardly ever drive outside the towns,\nand never do their own running repairs--and seldom even oil their\nengines, judging from the sound.\n\nOn May 1 I heard that the caravan was ready, but, unfortunately, the\ntrails were not yet open. However, spring comes suddenly on the prairie.\nOn May 2 there was a blizzard of snow, and on May 5 it was like an\nEnglish midsummer day. Archdeacon Burgett advised us not to fetch our\ncaravan until his clergy had arrived at Regina with theirs, as they\ncould then tell us what the trails were like. They came in on the\nSaturday, May 8, having had a very rough time with snow-drifts and\nmud-holes. They had bent their back lamp and damaged a rear mudguard. I\nnoticed that they had no shock absorbers, which accounted for a good\ndeal of the damage. They gave us a book with directions and maps of the\nblazed trail between Winnipeg and Regina, and gave us a lurid\ndescription of the perils of the way, apparently wishing to dissuade us\nfrom what they considered a mad attempt. But as I had mapped out the\ncaravan itinerary with but little margin, I did not wish to lose any\ntime in getting off, so Winifred Ticehurst and I started for Winnipeg\nlate on Sunday evening (after working pretty hard all day). We took a\nblanket or two and a little spirit lamp and saucepan as our sole camping\nequipment. The parish hall, in which our sleeping-bags, etc., were\nstored, was locked, and the caretaker had gone to church.\n\n[Illustration: THE CARAVAN AND HER CREW\n\n(W. M. T. LEFT, F. H. E. H. RIGHT)]\n\n[Illustration: THE INTERIOR OF THE VAN]\n\n  _To face p. 28_\n\n[Illustration: TIDYING UP (see page 54)]\n\n[Illustration: A SHACK ON THE MOVE (see page 22)]\n\nWe arrived at Winnipeg at 11.30 a.m. on Monday, and went straight to the\ncoachbuilder's. The manager showed us the caravan, which was all ready\nfor the road, except that they had not put non-skid tyres on the rear as\nordered. I pointed this out, and the manager said that the mistake had\nbeen made by the Ford Company, but he would send the car down to have it\nput right in the morning. We had expected to start that afternoon, but\nwere told that the car had not yet been passed by the Government\nofficials, who were going to register it as a commercial vehicle to\nescape taxation. As it was a public holiday this could not be done until\nnext day.\n\nThe caravan was much like a tradesman's van in appearance. It was\npainted black, with \"Sunday School Mission, Anglican Church,\" lettered\nin red and gold on one side. The driving seat could be completely closed\nin when necessary, for, besides the wind-screen, there were half-glass\ndoors on either side, which in hot weather could be taken off and put\nbehind the mattresses. There were two doors at the back of the van,\nwhich opened outwards. As the side doors had their catches inside, when\nwe wished to leave the caravan we got out at the back and padlocked\nthese doors, thus making all secure. The back of the driving-seat was\nhinged and folded forward at night, so that the six-foot mattresses\nwhich were strapped back to the van sides during the day could come\ndown over it. Beneath one mattress was a wooden locker, and under the\nother a wooden shelf with legs. There was also a shelf on one wall of\nthe van. When I got back to Regina, before starting out on the prairie,\nI added further items, which the run from Winnipeg had shown to be\ndesirable. An electric bulb was fitted to the roof of the van, and a\nreflecting glass put on the left side. I also got an inspection lamp for\nuse at night in case anything went wrong with the engine. This could be\nattached to the electric current which supplied the bulb. We racked our\nbrains to think of some means of keeping the things on the shelf, and\nfinally nailed on wire netting, which we hooked to the roof. This proved\nvery effective, but so great was the jar that the dancing pots and pans\nwore it out from time to time. We made a bag to hold our tidiest\nclothes, and blue cotton covers for the mattresses and a bag to keep our\npillows clean. We also nailed linoleum on the floor of the van, because\ndust and draughts came through cracks in the wood-work, and this made\nthe floor easy to keep clean.\n\nThe caravan had a Ford chassis with electric starter and head lights. I\nhad heard that for the rough prairie trails nothing could beat a Ford\nengine. Only a car with a high clearance is of any use on these earth\nroads, and whereas a heavy car would stick in a mud-hole the light Ford\ncan get through. Then again, even little \"towns\" which are nothing more\nthan hamlets stock Ford spare parts, both in garages and in the ordinary\n\"hardware stores\"--_i.e._, iron-mongers. I had had two extra petrol\ntanks put on the foot-board, each holding 8-1/2 gallons, so that we could\ncarry 25 gallons in all. The tool box, also, was on the foot-board, so\nthe spare tyre had to be strapped inside the caravan above the driving\nseat. We had very strong shock absorbers to prevent the body smashing\nthe back axle and springs when we went through very deep holes, and\nsub-radius rods to strengthen the steering-rod and front axle. I carried\nthree spare tubes as I had not remountable rims, and a pyrene\nextinguisher fixed inside the car in case of fire through damage to the\npetrol tanks on the rough trails.\n\nI fitted out the caravan in the light of what I had learnt about the\nprairie from the Regina Railway Mission clergy lecturing in England, and\nfrom books on the subject. From these sources I knew something about the\ncondition of the roads and the storms one might expect. This was why I\ninsisted on having a caravan rather than a Ford roadster, for though the\nlightness of the latter would enable it to get through a mud-hole where\na caravan might stick, I guessed that a prairie thunderstorm with its\nterrific winds and torrential rains would sweep away the tent and hood\nof the roadster like straws, leaving the occupants homeless.\n\nAs we could not get away that day we were obliged to find lodgings for\nthe night, and had not the least idea where to go. I would have asked\nhospitality from the Daughter of the Empire to whom I had an\nintroduction, but we did not care to present ourselves to a stranger in\nour travel-stained condition, and we had brought no evening clothes with\nus. Winifred suggested that we should try to find a Y.W.C.A., which we\ndid. The head received us very kindly, and gave us cheap and comfortable\naccommodation. Had we not been so tired we might have attended a concert\nin their concert-hall.\n\nNext morning we went to a store which sold camping outfits and bought\nseveral things, in particular a cunning arrangement of aluminium cooking\nutensils which fitted neatly into a canvas bag. Canadians make a\nspeciality of this kind of thing, as people often camp out when on a\nshooting or fishing expedition. I also had to get several extra tools\nfor the car, as very few were provided with it. Whilst I did this\nWinifred went off to buy food.\n\nWhen I went to fetch the caravan I found that a mechanic was just about\nto take it to the Ford Company to have the non-skid tyres put on, so I\naccompanied him. I noticed that it was not easy to drive in traffic, you\ncould not see out of the back, and as yet it had no reflecting glass.\nThe engine was very stiff as it had just come out of the assembly shop\nand had not been run, so it was difficult to steer and to regulate the\nspeed. Also it swung a good deal as the body was very long, and the\nshock absorbers helped to make it swing. Though Main Street, Winnipeg,\nis much wider than Oxford Street, it also contains much more traffic,\nincluding trams, so it was not surprising that we nearly ran into a\nmotor bicycle and other vehicles. Then the pyrene extinguisher fell out,\nand I had to rescue it from under the nose of a tram.\n\nSeeing what Winnipeg traffic was like, and how stiff the engine was, and\nalso not knowing the way out of the town, I thought of the suggestion\nmade by the Regina motor school, where I had learnt Ford running\nrepairs. This was that I should ask a mechanic of their Winnipeg branch\nto look over the engine and see if it were rightly adjusted, and then\ntake us out of Winnipeg. Leaving the caravan at the Ford Company, I went\nto find this firm. The address given to me proved to be a barber's shop.\nThis was rather disconcerting, but, on inquiring the way, I found that\nit belonged to the same firm, and they directed me to the motor shops.\nThey sent a mechanic with me, but he seemed all the time to be in a\ngreat hurry, and kept looking at his watch. I left him looking at the\nengine while I went after something or other, and when I came back he\nwas gone. I then saw that I should have to take the van out of Winnipeg\nmyself, as they could not spare a mechanic from the Ford Company.\n\nWhat must be must, so Winifred and I started off and drove into Main\nStreet, with its surging stream of trams and cars. The rule of the road\nhere is the opposite of the English rule, all cars having a left-hand\ndrive, so I thought it best to cross over to the right side of the\nstreet. But just as I had turned across the tram-lines a policeman\nstopped me, saying that I must cross further up at the regular\ncrossing-place. The engine, being stiff, stopped dead, and there we\nwere, right in the way of the trams. However, by the help of the\nself-starter, I got it going again and tried to turn, but the\nsteering-wheel was so stiff that I nearly ran into the pavement. We went\non further up the street until we came to a red notice which marked the\ncrossing-place, but as I had to drive slowly through the traffic, the\nengine kept stopping, so I turned into a side street, and with a good\ndeal of difficulty found my way out of the town. With every mile the\nengine ran better, and after fifty miles it went quite easily.\n\n\n\n\n  CHAPTER VII\n\n  THE PRAIRIE TRAILS\n\n\nThe prairie trails are simply earth roads, it being impossible to get\nstone for them. The very best trail is much like the worst cart road in\nEngland. The trail is made by scooping out the earth on either side of a\nwide track, and throwing it into the middle, where the clods are baked\nas hard as bricks by the sun. These clods would knock the bottom out of\nany car which had not a high clearance--the more so as a used trail has\nruts about two feet deep. Trail-making is usually done by a scoop drawn\nby two horses, but in some places a kind of motor-plough is used. In dry\nweather a simple track across the prairie made by carts and horses is\nmuch easier going, but these tracks are impossible when the snow is\nmelting, or after the heavy thunderstorms of summer. Therefore all the\nmain trails have to be raised in the middle to let off the water, which\nwould otherwise stand till it formed sloughs. When once on the trail you\nhave to keep there, as it is either bordered by a three-foot bank whence\nthe earth was dug, or else it slopes straight into a slough. These\nsloughs are like great ponds, their bottoms are covered with deep mud,\nand if it once gets in, a car sinks deeper and deeper, and cannot be got\nout. The sloughs are very beautiful, reflecting the wonderful blue of\nthe sky, or the marvellous colours of sunset. A prairie sunset is quite\nbeyond description. I have never seen such colours in England.\n\nThe flowers on the prairie are lovely, forming a changing kaleidoscope\nof colour throughout the summer months. They border the trails and the\nsloughs, and grow in riotous profusion on unbroken ground. When we first\ntook the trail I specially noticed a lovely little pale mauve anemone.\n\nThere are also many beautiful birds on the prairie, the most striking\nbeing the red-winged blackbird--a very big blackbird with glinting red\nfeathers on the top of his wings. There was also a robin about twice the\nsize of his English cousin, and a yellow-breasted bird which sang a very\nsweet little song, but never seemed to finish it. There were prairie\nchickens of a greyish brown, wild duck and large snipe, and a sort of\nwater-hen.\n\nThe jack-rabbit was a very ubiquitous person, always jumping across the\ntrail. He is really a hare, greyish-brown in summer and white in winter.\nAnother local inhabitant who made his presence felt was the gopher,\nwhich looks like a cross between a squirrel and a weasel. They make\ntheir holes in the wheel-ruts of the trails, as we found by bumping\nviolently over their excavations. Badgers adopt the same inconvenient\nhabit, as we discovered to our cost when shot suddenly to the roof of\nthe caravan. Fortunately, they are not so common as gophers. The latter\ndo a great deal of damage to the wheat, so that the farmers are obliged\nto poison them and the children are given so much per tail; consequently\nI had little compunction in running over one occasionally when it sat up\nin the middle of the trail just in front of the wheel. At first I\nwondered why these beasties chose the trail for their burrows when they\nhad all the enormous prairie at their disposal, until it was explained\nto me that the hard ground formed a better front door to their holes, as\nin soft ground the soil would fall in.\n\nWe were interested in watching the farming operations en route. They\nwere disking and ploughing and sowing, generally driving six horses\nabreast. The machines were immensely wide, too large to pass through our\nwidest gates, and it was a heavy alluvial soil, thus needing much\nhorse-power. We also saw a large number of motor tractors in use.\n\nAll the main trails are bordered with telephone poles, and a red blaze\non these poles indicates the way--_i.e._, an R or an L tells you when to\nturn to the right or left. At least, it is supposed to tell you, but as\nboth letters are usually on the same side of the pole, it is up to you\nto guess whether you turn to the right to go to Winnipeg or to Regina.\nThe matter is further complicated by the letters being made of paper on\nsome trails, in which case they are generally half torn off.\n\nThe trails, like the towns, are laid out in squares. In a town the\navenues run east and west and the streets north and south. On the trail,\nwhen you are running north and south you find a trail running east and\nwest every two miles; and when you are running east and west you find a\ntrail going north and south every mile. But this arrangement is\ncomplicated as you draw near to the Arctic Circle, because as the trails\nare laid out in squares, these squares grow narrower in this direction\nand so an extra trail, called a correction line, is added at intervals.\nAlso now and again an old Indian trail upsets one's calculations. You\nnever talk of right and left on the prairie, but always of the points of\nthe compass, and these points form the first lesson which a child\nlearns. Yet the actual compass is of no use on these rough roads, as it\ngets out of order. One learns to steer by the sun and stars.\n\nIt is useless to ask for directions, you will merely be told \"Go five\nmiles north, and three miles east and one mile south and four miles\nwest, and then look for the elevator at So-and-So. Ye can't miss it.\"\nBut you can miss it, very easily. Again, you are often told that a place\nis \"quite close\" and find it to be at least five miles away.\n\nThere are no landmarks on these trails, except the elevators in the\ntowns near the track. The sections are marked by a small heap of stones\nat their corners. There is scarcely a fence on the prairie, there being\nno stock to speak of and no wood at hand for posts. There are also no\nsign-posts or danger signals, and for lack of the latter we had a narrow\nescape of finishing our tour before it had well begun. Soon after we\nleft Winnipeg, running through the main street of a little town, we\nsuddenly saw a great C.P.R. train cross the road in front of us with no\nwarning whatever. Had we been a minute or two sooner we must have been\nkilled. It is no unusual thing for the track to cross the trail, but in\nthis instance the houses prevented us from seeing the approach of the\ntrain.\n\nMeeting another car was an awkward matter as it meant climbing out of\nthe ruts and running with one wheel in the gutter. Sometimes, in trying\nto avoid a mud hole or something, we ran at such an angle that I only\nkept my seat by clinging to the steering-wheel, and how Winifred kept\nhers is a mystery. Straw and sand are sometimes thrown into these mud\nholes, in a vain endeavour to fill them up. When stuck fast in one it\nwas little consolation to be told that it was probably an old buffalo\nwallow.\n\nThis is how Winifred described the trail in one of her letters: \"The\nroad was long, the ruts were deep, the sloughs were lined with mud. The\nroad was narrow, and on each side those watery sloughs did gleam with\ntempting sunset gleams of cherry, pink and gold, a warm, warm glow. They\nsaid 'Oh, guide your car into our gleams and spend the night with us.'\"\n\n\n\n\n  CHAPTER VIII\n\n  FROM WINNIPEG TO REGINA\n\n\nThe first night we camped near a farmhouse so as to be able to get\nwater. We did this whenever it was possible. Going to bed in a caravan\nproved to be an acquired art. First we had to put all the camping\nequipment, etc., either in front of the driving seat or outside the van\ncovered over with a waterproof sheet (there was always a very heavy dew\nat night); then we let down the mattresses and arranged the bedding.\nNext came the difficulty of undressing, there being barely 12 inches\nbetween the mattresses when they were let down. We could not make a\ndressing-room of the prairie because we generally camped near a farm,\nand anyhow the clarity of the atmosphere and the flat ground made one\nvisible from a long distance. This first night we sat on our mattresses\nand wriggled out of our clothes, there being no room in the van to stand\nupright. Afterwards we adopted the plan of going to bed one by one. We\nput up the tent for a second room whenever we stayed long enough in a\nplace to make it worth while. We had been obliged to do this trip\nwithout our sleeping-bags, and so were very cold at night, as the\ntemperature then falls very low even in the summer. You really need a\nsleeping-bag as well as blankets on the prairie. Our excellent health\nthroughout the tour was probably largely due to our precautions in this\nmatter. My sleeping-bag had already done much service, having been lent\nme by a cousin who had used it on the French and Italian fronts, and my\nmosquito net was a loan from a padre who had served at Salonica. This\npreserved me from much discomfort and blood-poisoning, as later in the\nsummer the mosquitoes were very ferocious, especially to us newcomers.\n\nWe started on our tour with a due regard for appearances, both of us\narmed with travelling looking-glasses. But these soon got smashed in our\nbumpy progress, and henceforth we contented ourselves with tidying our\nhair from our shadows cast on the ground or our reflections in the\nwind-screen, or, Hyacinth-like, gazed fondly into the sloughs.\n\nI turned out first in the morning, as I was going to cook the breakfast,\nand found it decidedly cold. When I went to the farm for milk and eggs\nthe nice woman would not let me pay for them. We found great generosity\nwherever we went. We had brought sufficient water from Winnipeg in the\nferrostate flask for tea, but this was too precious to use for washing\nup, so we had our first experience of getting water out of a prairie\nwell. This shortage of water and the expense of boring very deep wells\nis one of the farmers' great trials. In certain places you have to go\ndown forty feet for water. If there is no gasolene engine or windmill it\nhas to be drawn up with a bucket and rope. This is by no means easy, the\nproblem being to prevent the bucket from floating empty on the surface\nof the water. To avoid this you have to swing the bucket so that it\nfalls in sideways and fills itself, but if you are not very careful when\ndrawing it up it will sway violently and spill half the contents. On\nthis first occasion, having proudly drawn up my water, I essayed to take\nit away in our canvas bucket, but not knowing the habits of the latter\nit turned over just as I had got it filled. Afterwards I circumvented\nit by weighting it with a stone or propping it up.\n\nWhen at last we were all ready to start, the engine unfortunately\nwasn't. I thought that the sparking plugs had probably got damp with the\nheavy dew, or had got oily, so I took them out and cleaned them and also\ncleaned the carburetter. In the meantime Winifred went off to the\nneighbouring town to fetch help from a garage, but they were all too\nbusy with motor tractors to come. Presently two farm men came and talked\nto me and helped to undo screws, but did not seem to know much about a\ncar. The small boy from the farm saved the situation by his cheerful\nchatter. He kept telling me that the radiator was like a letter-box.\n\nAt last I got the car to start, and then it went very well. The trail\nwas very sandy, bordered with coarse grass and prickly scrub, and there\nwere hills at intervals. The car skidded badly in the sand, and once\nswung round broadside on up a bank, and nearly turned over. We had to\ncut down some of the thorny bushes in order to get it out without\ndamaging the headlights. We had not gone much further before the car\nstuck in the sand again, going up a hill. Some men came by in a car and\nadvised me to tighten the gear pedal, which I did. New cars need\ncontinual adjustment at first, of course. When we had done about fifty\nmiles I thought that the engine smelt hot and found that the fan was not\nworking, so I screwed up the belt and it was all right for a time. We\npassed through several towns that day, and stopped for the night near a\nslough, outside Alexandra. For the first time we were hushed to sleep by\nthe \"Canadian Band,\" as the frog chorus is called.\n\nThe next day was Ascension Day, and we hoped to reach some town in time\nfor a service, but difficulties beset us from the first. I had to get\nsome gasolene out of the side tanks, and this meant siphoning it, an\nexceedingly unpleasant performance, no less than sucking it through a\ntube to start the flow. Then the electric starter went wrong, and the\nengine was terribly hard to crank, as the starting-handle had not been\nused. At last we were off, but the trail was heavy with sand, and the\nengine got very hot and presently stuck fast at a hill. I found that the\nfan had gone wrong again, and took it down, and while trying to put it\nright found that a nut had not been properly adjusted. A man came along\nin a car and at once went to my aid. Then two more men came by and also\nstopped to help, and when we had adjusted the fan they all three pushed\nthe van off and we went up the hill.\n\nBut our troubles were not over yet. An immense hole, about five feet\ndeep, yawned across our path as we topped the hill, and there was\nnothing for it but to plunge through it and down the hill beyond. The\ncaravan swayed so violently that I expected every moment that we should\nbe upset, but it always righted itself just in time, though everything\non the shelves was hurled to the floor--a continual occurrence until we\nput up the netting. The sand was so thick here that we got on to a grass\ntrack beside the trail, hoping for better going, but this soon ended,\nand we had to bump back on to the trail again. In so doing we stuck fast\nin the ditch. By racing the engine I got her out, but we soon stuck fast\nagain, this time up to our axles in sand. After we had tried in vain for\nan hour to get the car out, we gave it up and sat down by the roadside\nto read the service for the day in our prayer-books. It was easy to\nenter into the spirit of the festival out there on the wide prairie,\nwith its immense distances and glorious blue sky. We were about thirty\nmiles from any house.\n\nAfter a time we started to dig out the wheels with our hands, but just\nthen two of the men who had helped us before came back along the trail.\n\"How many more times shall we have to help you two girls out of a hole?\"\nthey cried, and with much good nature proceeded to assist us, until at\nlast, with reversing and pushing and putting our blankets under the\nwheels, we got out. We had to go half a mile back and along another\ntrail, but at last reached Verdun. We only did twenty-seven miles that\nday.\n\nWe didn't stick fast anywhere next day, but the trails were very bad,\nand we were shaken to pieces. My arms became very stiff with the\nvibration from the steering-wheel, and sometimes it was nearly knocked\nout of my hands when a front wheel struck big clods. One had to hang on\nlike grim death. After a time, however, I quite got into the way of\ndriving in ruts. We stopped for the night at Wapallo, and were just\ngoing to have supper when the vicar came along and saw our van,\nwhereupon he promptly took us home with him. His wife was most kind to\nus, and at once supplied our greatest (and most obvious) need by\ninviting us to wash. A real wash is a great treat on the prairie, where\nwater is so scarce. After supper we went to evensong in the pretty\nlittle prairie church, near which we afterwards camped. We had done\nninety-two miles that day.\n\nNext day, when we stopped at Medicine Hat for gasolene, a man came out\nof a store close by, and, seeing the van, introduced himself as the\nsuperintendent of the Anglican Sunday School there. He was most anxious\nthat we should stop over Sunday, but we thought it best to get to Regina\nas soon as possible. As we neared the town we had a narrow escape from a\nslough. Going into Regina there was a very bad turn, in negotiating\nwhich the car swung round and one of the front wheels went into a muddy\nditch. By putting on the brake with great force, I managed to stop her\nfrom plunging farther in. I think I was getting a little tired. We had\ndone 120 miles that day. Winifred went off to find help, but a big motor\nlorry came along as I sat waiting with the car, and stopped at once,\nseeing I was in difficulties. The driver called out that he would pull\nme out if I had a rope. I always carried one, and with its aid he soon\ntowed me out backwards. When I thanked him he said: \"You're Scotch,\naren't you? I was in a hospital in Scotland during the War, and the\nnurses were so good to me that I'm glad to help any girls from the Old\nCountry.\"\n\nEveryone seemed both pleased and surprised to see us back, though\nunfeignedly astonished that one so \"green\" should have been able to\nbring the car through alone. It is 412 miles from Winnipeg to\nRegina--farther than from London to Glasgow. Far from being exhausted by\nour adventures, we felt braced up by the glorious sunshine and\ninvigorating air of the prairie, and we did full justice to the feast of\nwelcome prepared. Folks were interested in the caravan, and various\nremarks were made about it. Even to our fond eyes it could not be called\nexactly beautiful, but it was rather cruel of Canon X. to observe: \"Ah!\na Black Maria, I see.\"\n\nOn the Monday following, while I was in the midst of preparations for\nour start that week, Nona Clarke rang me up to say that Aylmer Bosanquet\nwas very ill, and could I come at once to help to bring her into Regina.\nI had about ten minutes in which to catch the train. Helped by kind Mrs.\nW., I bundled a few things into a suit-case and ran. But I had to stop\nat a drug-store to get some sort of stimulant for Aylmer, as Nona had\nsaid that she seemed on the verge of a collapse. It is in a case like\nthis that prohibition is so inconvenient. I could get neither brandy nor\nsal-volatile without a doctor's certificate--and yet I had often seen\npeople who did not _look_ ill produce a certificate and get the\nstimulant they asked for. \"Is there nothing you can give me?\" I asked in\ndesperation, and the shopman handed me some kind of ammonia, saying that\nwas the only thing he could let me have. The bottle bore no directions,\nand when I asked how one should take it, and whether the dose would be\nabout the same as sal-volatile, he replied indifferently: \"Oh, yes, I\nthink so.\"\n\nI just caught the train, which then steamed out of the station and\nwaited an hour at North Regina.\n\nI found Aylmer very ill indeed, hardly able to speak, and without any of\nthose little comforts which mean so much in sickness. The shack was all\nin disorder, too, as they were packing up to go on the prairie in the\nFord roadster. Although she was so weak and ill she was full of interest\nin our work, and made me describe the journey from Winnipeg, but I soon\nsaw that conversation was too much for her. Nona telephoned to a doctor\nin Regina, asking him to come out next day to see if the patient were\nfit to travel, in which case he was to accompany her back by the next\ntrain.\n\nAll that night a dust storm raged, succeeded next morning by torrential\nrain. I went out to get milk and bread for breakfast, buying the latter\nfrom the Christian Chinaman, who inquired anxiously for Aylmer, and\nsaid, when I wished to pay for my purchase, \"Eef it ees for de\nmissionarees you need not pay.\" Then there was the problem of how to get\nthe invalid to the station, as the shack was by this time surrounded\nwith a sea of black mud which no car could traverse. But Nona found a\nman with a dray who promised to come if needed. The doctor's train was\nso late that there was only a quarter of an hour between his arrival and\nthe departure of the return train. But he made a hasty examination, and\nsaid that though she was very weak it would be better to take her into\nRegina. It is so difficult to get nurses or medical attendance out on\nthe prairie.[4]\n\nI dressed her with difficulty, and she lay on the bed while we all\ncombined to lift it bodily on to the dray. But the rain and wind were\nstill so strong that Nona had to kneel beside the bed holding on fast to\nthe rugs, while I held an umbrella over Aylmer's head. It was pathetic\nto see the people waving good-bye from their houses as she passed, for\nthough they did not guess how ill she was, they knew that she was\nleaving them, perhaps for ever. Arrived at Regina, we took her to the\nGrey Nuns' hospital.\n\nI had now only three days in which to complete our preparations if we\nwere to start on the date fixed, which it was necessary to do if we were\nto fulfil our engagements. I went to see Aylmer as often as I could, and\nof course drove the caravan up to the hospital for her to see from her\nwindow. It grieved me very much (apart from my anxiety about her\nillness) to think that she could now take no part in this adventure, the\nidea of which was all her own. Indeed, this was to prove her only\nglimpse of our van, in the details of which she would have revelled, for\nbefore we returned from the prairie she had been ordered to British\nColumbia and then on to California. I never saw her again.\n\n[Footnote 4: See Appendix II.]\n\n\n\n\n  CHAPTER IX\n\n  SANDSTORMS AND SUNDAY SCHOOLS\n\n\nWe had arranged to start on Friday, May 21, and the day dawned\nbeautifully fine. I fetched the caravan round to the parish hall, where\nour things were stored, and we loaded up. This was no easy task, for\nunless you did it very carefully you could not get everything in. The\npackages reached from floor to roof now that we were fully equipped.\nWhilst we were busily engaged in this task we did not notice that the\nweather had changed, but presently a great wind arose, and then an\nominous darkness blotted out the sun. We knew that that horror of\nhorrors, a fierce dust storm, was raging. It was a veritable blackness\nthat might be felt; and when we went to say good-bye to some Regina\nfriends they begged us not to start. One of them travelled for a firm,\nand he assured us that no commercial traveller would venture out in such\na storm. It was bound to get worse and worse, he said, and he did his\nbest to dissuade us. But I had arranged to get to Buffalo Lake by\nSunday, and I had already been obliged to alter the date once owing to\nthe delay in getting the caravan, so I felt that I could not put them\noff any more. If one delays for difficulties one will never do anything.\nSo we started.\n\nThe wind whipped and whistled around the caravan, and blew the earth in\ngreat clouds over us, and formed huge drifts on the trail, which made\nthe car skid as on loose sand. It was distressing to remember that this\nearth was full of newly-sown wheat. It was hard enough to see the way\nwhen we started, though Winifred held the map and directed me; but after\nsunset it was impossible to go on, as the headlights could not penetrate\nthe dense clouds of dust. However, we had gone a good distance, and\ntherefore decided to camp. Meanwhile our late host, at the urgent\ninstigation of his wife, was searching the trail for our mangled\nremains.\n\nThe next morning was fine, and we started early; but quite soon we\nstruck sand, and after the storm of the day before it lay in drifts. I\ntried to rush through at full speed, but with a tremendous skid the car\nlurched sideways and stuck fast in a drift. We got out, and tried to\njack it up in order to wind rope round a wheel, as I had been told that\nParsons' chains are useless in sand. To crown our misery the wind now\nbegan to blow hard, and we were almost blinded by the flying sand, which\nstung our eyes cruelly. In the dust-storm of the previous day we were\nspared this torture by the wind-screen and side-doors being kept shut.\nBut help was at hand. One after another six men in all stopped their\ncars and came to our assistance. It was easier for them to get through\nthe sand-drifts than for us because their cars were so much lighter,\nalthough a good deal of the caravan was made of a kind of stout\nbeaver-boarding to save weight, but this was counteracted by our camping\nequipment, etc.\n\nOur helpers pulled us out with great difficulty, and we continued on our\nway through Moose Jaw. Towards evening we sighted Buffalo Lake church\nand steered for it, expecting that the vicarage would be near by. But\nbefore we reached it, in trying to negotiate a mud hole, we stuck fast\nonce more. A farmer ploughing near came to our aid, and fastened his\nteam to our rope. One of the trials of a mud hole was that when you got\nout to adjust the rope, etc., your boots became thickly coated with\nsticky mud, so that you could scarcely work your gear pedal. It was also\nexceedingly difficult to drive the car close at the heels of restive\nhorses. They hated the noise of the engine, and were all ready to kick;\nand when the car reached firm ground it rushed forward almost on to the\nhorses, and was only stopped by jamming on the brakes.\n\nThanks to this timely aid we reached our goal in good time to make camp.\nBut the wind was still blowing strong, and as I was cooking on the\nPrimus it suddenly burst into flames. Thinking the caravan in danger,\nWinifred hastily threw earth on it--which put an effectual end to my\nculinary efforts for that night. We made a fair meal on the food we had\nwith us, and just as we had finished a buggy came along with the vicar\nand his family. They had been shopping in the neighbouring town. From\nthe van he guessed our identity, and came up to ask how we had managed\nour cooking in this wind. We tactfully evaded this point, and assured\nhim that we had made a good meal. But we were not sorry when he said\nthat next day we must have meals at the vicarage.\n\nThe next day was Whit Sunday, and we were very glad to be where we could\nhave an early Celebration. So widely scattered is the population that\nthere was only one other worshipper besides ourselves. After breakfast\nthe vicar was going to take duty at a place about five miles away, so I\noffered to drive him in the caravan as there was another dust storm\nblowing up and he had nothing but an open buggy. As he was the first\nvicar I had driven I determined not to disgrace myself by sticking on\nthe trail, and so went full tilt all the way and successfully ploughed\nthrough the drifts. We skidded and swayed a good deal, but my passenger\nseemed thoroughly to enjoy it. When we arrived, however, we found that\nnone of the congregation had cared to face the storm; we therefore did a\nlittle visiting and returned home.\n\nThere was a regular weekly Sunday School here in which two of the\nparents taught. It was brilliantly fine in the afternoon and the\nchildren and their parents were all able to come. Car after car drove\nup, until there was a long line of them. The children were most\nbeautifully dressed, with dainty white frocks and pretty hats. The\nparents and the elder boys and girls were also extremely well turned\nout. Indeed, it is one of the most striking features of prairie life\nthat, with all their heavy manual work, the people dress well when not\nengaged in actual toil--a fine example of personal self-respect.\n\nIt was delightful to see this school, conducted by two of the mothers.\nWe longed to give professional assistance but hesitated to offer it, as\nof course the idea of constructive criticism and demonstration lessons\nwas quite foreign to them. But an opportunity for the latter presented\nitself when we gave round \"Hope of the World\" postcards and the children\nbegan to ask questions about them, whereupon the mothers appealed to me\nto give the explanation.\n\nAfter the school there was a Family Service (characteristic of the\nprairie) at which all are present, from the father to the infant in\narms. There were a great many baptisms, which made one think of\nWhitsuntide in the early Church. A delightful feature of the service was\nthe freedom with which the children ran out to play when tired. I could\nsee them from the window jumping in and out of the cars. But when they\nhad worked off their superfluous energy they came back quietly to their\nplaces.\n\nAfter the service we were introduced to all the people, and one young\nman remarked: \"We thought your car was a motor ambulance and supposed\nthere'd been a scrap.\"\n\nThe fervour of these people, and their evident appreciation of the\nservices of the Church, made a strong impression on me. It was shown by\ntheir coming long distances--twenty miles in some cases--after working\nvery hard for very long hours all the week.\n\nIn the evening I drove the vicar to another church for evensong. It was\ncoated so thickly with dust from the storm of the morning that we had to\nclean it down before a service could be held.\n\nNext morning the vicar showed us his stable, and we photographed his\nspecial pride, a handsome colt which he had broken himself. We had had a\nmost delightful week-end, and were much cheered by our kind reception\nfrom the vicar and his wife, and felt quite weak with laughter at the\nformer's amusing stories.\n\nIn the afternoon we started for Eyebrow, but did not get very far that\nday, as we stuck in the mud and had to wait to be pulled out. We arrived\nat Eyebrow next day, however, and went to see the layman in charge of\nthe mission. It had not been possible as yet to arrange for us to visit\nany schools, so we decided to go on and spend some time here on our\nreturn journey. They entertained us most hospitably to supper, and\nallowed us to put our baggage in the church porch as it was raining in\ntorrents. We next made a two days' journey on to Riverhurst, and on\narrival went into a Chinaman's restaurant for supper. The food in these\nrestaurants is both good and cheap. A three-course dinner costs only\nabout one and eightpence in English money. As we were comfortably eating\nour supper we were surprised and rather alarmed to see a district\npoliceman making straight for us. He put us through a searching\ncatechism. Who were we and where did we come from? A brother officer had\nseen us and put him on our trail. We told him who we were and whose\nauthority was behind us, and after a few more questions he seemed\nsatisfied and left us to finish our supper in peace. We longed to know\nwhat crimes he had mentally charged us with.\n\nWe found that there was a Union Sunday school at Riverhurst which all\nthe children attended, including the only Anglican children in the\nplace, four in number. It seemed hopeless to try to start a Sunday\nSchool for these four, so we noted them for enrolment in the Sunday\nSchool by Post, and went on towards Elbow.\n\nWe started in a dust storm, the unpleasantness of which custom cannot\nstale. I took some photographs of it, however. Presently we thought that\nwe must have taken the wrong trail to Elbow, and so tried to turn on\nwhat looked like firm grass, but the ground was soft underneath, and the\nheavily-weighted car stuck fast, sinking in up to the axles. It was far\naway from any sign of human habitation, and the recommendation of Dr.\nSmiles seemed the only solution. So I started to dig out a wheel.\nSuddenly a boy on a horse appeared as if by magic, and asked if we\nwanted help, saying that he would go back to his father's farm for\nhorses, which sure enough he did, and handled them manfully. He fastened\nhis team to our rope, and I got into the car and started the engine.\nThen followed the usual breathless moment when the car charged forward\non to the horses' heels. The boy then directed us to take a certain\ntrail, and after his recent display of prowess we naturally followed his\nadvice. But we soon found ourselves going up a very steep and narrow\ntrack with a bank on one side and a sheer drop into a ravine on the\nother, and with literally not an inch to spare on either side. On the\nsteepest part of this road the car stopped dead, and I had to keep my\nfoot hard down on the foot brake to prevent it slipping backwards. There\nwas nothing for it but to unload the heaviest things, and I could not\nget out to help, as the car would then have run back. Winifred opened\nthe back doors so that I could see behind me, and I managed to get\nsafely down to the bottom of the hill, though it was exceedingly\ndifficult to back round the sharp corners. I then put on full speed and\nrushed the car up, and at the top we loaded her again, thinking that the\nworst was over. But as we went on we found the road was as narrow as\never, with a very bad surface, big stones cropping out here and there. I\nwas driving, with one wheel low down in a rut and the other high up,\nwhen the car again stopped at a steep bit, and I had to jam on the\nbrakes as before whilst Winifred unloaded. But when I tried to release\nthe brakes I found that the hand brake had jammed, and I could not get\nout and hammer it free as the van would have run backwards when I\nshifted it. At this crisis two men came along and helped us, and between\nus we put the brake right and got the car to the top of the hill. This\nwas the only bad hill we had found and the only stony road. We\ndiscovered afterwards that it was not the right trail for Elbow. The\ntown is so named because the Saskatchewan River runs in a elbow-like\ncurve through the ravine at the bottom of this hill, on the crest of\nwhich the town is built.\n\nWe went on beyond Elbow to Loreburn, and camped near the vicarage for\nthe night. The vicar and his wife had only just arrived in the parish,\nwith a little baby of a month old. She looked hardly fit to cope with\nall there was to do, but they insisted that we should come in to meals\nwith them. I was the more grateful for this as I had had a difference of\nopinion with the spirit lamp, which blew up in my face and nearly\nblinded me.\n\nThis was the first occasion on which we used the tent, and its erection\nwas something of a puzzle, as we had no sketch of the finished article,\nand had never seen it in action. But by the time I had it all laid out,\nand was wondering how I should put it up without help (Winifred having\ngone to the vicarage), some boys appeared, and said that they knew all\nabout tents, and helped me splendidly. There was no difficulty about\nfinding the children at our stopping places, for the caravan drew them\nlike a magnet. We reversed Froebel's injunction--\"Come let us live with\nour children\"--for the children invariably came and lived with us. On\noccasions their company was so persistent as to be rather embarrassing.\nOne never knew at what moment the tent would be invaded by eager\nvisitors. They were most delightful children, extraordinarily\nintelligent and full of practical wisdom. It was truly a case of\n\"development by self-activity.\" They freely offered assistance and\nadvice when they saw we were in need of either. It was a five-year-old\ngirl who noticed one evening that I had laid the potatoes outside the\ncaravan, and thoughtfully warned me: \"I shouldn't leave those potatoes\nout all night if I were you; the gophers will eat them.\"\n\n[Illustration: DIGGING OUT THE WHEEL]\n\n[Illustration: THE TENT, AND MY ASSISTANTS AT LOREBURN]\n\n  _To face p. 48_\n\n[Illustration: 1. & 2. HOUSEHOLD TASKS (see page 54)]\n\n[Illustration: 3. MR. M. AND HIS MOTOR CYCLE ON THE RAILWAY TRACK\n  (see page 63)]\n\nOn that first night at Loreburn we had torrents of rain, and next\nmorning the trails were deep in mud. But I had promised to drive the\nvicar into Elbow, as he had no buggy as yet. We skidded violently from\nside to side of the road all the way, and had more than one narrow\nescape from a slough--I had horrid visions of a congregation waiting\nindefinitely for a vicar hopelessly submerged. I put on the Parsons'\nchains before making the return journey. This is a job one willingly\ndefers till it is unavoidable.\n\nDespite the weather there were many people at church, so I was glad that\nI had made the effort. These prairie services really were an\ninspiration. In the afternoon I superintended the Sunday school, which\nconsisted as usual of children from six to sixteen. Winifred and I\ndivided the children into two classes, and the vicar and a teacher\nlistened to our teaching. The greatest difficulty, here as elsewhere,\nwas the grading of hymns and prayers. The best way seemed to be to open\nwith devotions suitable to the infants and then to let them go off to\nanother part of the church for their lesson while we had other prayers\nand hymns for the elder ones, closing the school in a similar manner;\nbut if this made the session too long, we began with devotions suited to\nthe younger children and closed with those more suited to the elder.\n\nAfter school there was the usual family service, at which I specially\nnoticed how well the organist played. We were afterwards invited to\nsupper with him and his wife, and were interested to find that they\nused to live at Leeds and had sung at Morecambe Musical Festival.\nCanadian meals are delicious, and we had a sumptuous supper--bacon and\neggs, layer cake and stewed fruit, and strong tea, very acceptable after\nour sketchy caravan meals. After supper we had some good music, and the\norganist told us some of his experiences as a prairie choir-master. His\nchoir showed talent, so he felt that they were capable of chanting the\npsalms, and trained them to do so. He kept this as a pleasant surprise\nfor the congregation, and felt very proud of his pupils when they duly\nacquitted themselves well. But the real surprise was his. Next day most\nof the congregation waited upon him in a body and stated that they would\nnot attend church in future if such High Church practices were followed.\n\nWe had obtained permission from the trustees of the public school at\nLoreburn to give religious instruction in school hours, as it was more\nconvenient for us. I took the upper division, children of twelve to\neighteen, and Winifred took the lower form, children of six to twelve,\nit being a two-roomed school. (In these prairie schools the scholars\nstay from six to eighteen.) The teachers were very nice. They showed\ninterest in our work and listened to our lessons. As I could give them\nonly one lesson, I wanted it to be one of permanent value, sufficiently\nconnected with their everyday experience to recur frequently to their\nminds, so I spoke on the Union Jack, which floats over almost all of\nthese little schools. I began with the splendid work of Canada in the\nWar, and referred to the men of the widespread British Empire all united\nunder one flag, thus leading on to the unity of Christian soldiers and\ntelling the stories of the three saints whose crosses unite in the\nBritish flag. (A further bond of empire now is the photograph of the\nPrince of Wales, which is found everywhere in this neighbourhood since\nhis visit to Regina.)\n\nAfter the lesson we gave each child a prayer card and a picture of the\n\"Hope of the World\" or \"The New Epiphany.\" It was very distressing to\nfind that only two or three of the thirty children present knew the\nLord's Prayer. Apropos of this a clergyman's wife told me how she had\nasked a child, \"Do you know _Our Father_?\" and the child answered, \"No,\nbut I know our grandfather.\"\n\nThe children seemed to hang on our words, listening with intense\neagerness to the lessons. \"They listen to lessons here in this country\nthat they would never dream of attending to in the Old Country,\"\nWinifred wrote home. \"One has no fear here of possibilities of\nnaughtiness either. They are good without being disciplined, not\nrestless like the children at home.\"\n\nThe intense hunger for knowledge holds these sturdy, open-air little\npeople in a trance of breathless interest. It was their desire rather\nthan our skill which exercised the spell, as we knew well.\n\n\n\n\n  CHAPTER X\n\n  ADVENTURES AND MISADVENTURES\n\n\nIt rained hard all next day, so I spent the time in making some things\nfor the caravan; in particular, a wire cage for the electric bulb, which\nwas always being knocked against and broken. One could never start\ndirectly the rain ceased, the trails were too bad, and when we did take\nthe road on the following day we found a sea of mud. On the second day\nwe arrived at Outlook, and camped above the ferry. There was no resident\nclergyman here, but a local lady did what she could for the spiritual\nneeds of the children, holding a very successful Sunday School in the\nchurch, where she had arranged a beautiful \"Children's Corner.\" A few\nsuitable pictures and simple printed prayers were pinned on the wall\nwithin easy reach of kneeling children. They are encouraged to make this\nspot their special oratory. This particular \"Corner\" was arranged near\nthe font, which seemed a specially suitable place for it. Unfortunately,\nwe were unable to meet this lady, as she was ill, but we went to see the\nlay reader who took the services on Sunday.\n\nAfter we had camped that night a young girl came to talk to us. She\nexplained that she was very unhappy and unsettled with regard to\nreligion. She had gone to the \"Pentecostals,\" poor child, because she\nwas deaf, and could hear their loud declamations; but she had received\nno sort of help from them. Her parents belonged to the Church of\nEngland, but since they had been in Canada the younger children had not\nbeen baptized. Presently the girl's mother joined us, and we made\nfriends at once and had \"a good crack\" when we each found that the other\ncame from Cumberland. She told me that she had been brought up a\nBaptist, but had joined the Church of England. I urged her to prepare\nher children for baptism herself, and have them baptized at the earliest\nopportunity. This she promised to do.\n\nNext day we had to cross the Saskatchewan River, no easy task from all\naccounts. We had been regaled with hair-raising stories of how a man\ndrove his car too fast down the pier to the ferry boat, which had not\nbeen linked up, and the car plunged into the river and was never seen\nagain. The same fate overtook a man who fell out of his boat when\nmending the ferry cable. I was not quite at my best for this particular\nundertaking, as I had one eye badly swollen from a mosquito bite through\nforgetting to put on my net when sitting down to write a letter. There\nwere three ways of getting down the river bank to the ferry pier. One\nroad zig-zagged so sharply that the long caravan could not turn at the\nbend, and the paling just there was so frail that had we run into it we\nmust have broken through and gone down a bank. The other road was strewn\nwith huge stones, so I eschewed roads altogether, and went down the\nrough grass bank, swaying and bumping and almost overturning, but it\nseemed the least perilous passage. I took the car down while Winifred\nwas on in front, looking for a better road, as there was no reason why\nwe should both be upset. A narrow road led on to the pier, which was a\nlong wooden structure built over the sand and mud of the river's edge.\nThe ferry, a wooden barge worked by a cable, was moored to the end of\nit, and I drove on to it cautiously. The men working the ferry were\nthree Englishmen, who had served with the Canadian contingent, and they\nhailed the van delightedly as a long-lost friend, at first thinking it\nwas an old motor ambulance from France. We took photos of them,\nwhereupon they begged that we would not exhibit them as \"specimens of\nthe white heathen we met out there.\" \"I felt indeed that we must look\nmissionaries of the fiercest type,\" was Winifred's comment on this\nincident.\n\nThere was only one trail to Bounty, our next destination, so when we\ncame suddenly on a dreadful hole right across the path, with a bank on\neither side of the road, there was nothing for it but to go on. I tried\nto rush across, and suddenly felt an awful concussion. I was flung up\nagainst the roof of the van and saw stars for the moment, but somehow or\nother we got across. Then I went round to see what damage was done to\nour baggage, etc., and found that a three-gallon tin of coal oil had\nbeen flung up and had come down upside down. There it was, standing on\nits cork. I next examined the engine, which seemed very odd. The gear\npedal had gone wrong and everything was crooked. Then I saw that the\nbonnet was not fitting. I lifted it up and found that the whole engine\nwas two or three inches out of the straight. I saw that I could not put\nthings right myself, and so determined to try to reach the town.\nMeanwhile, in this as in other mishaps, Winifred helped me enormously by\nsitting calmly on the bank reading a novel. She never fussed or made\nworrying exclamations, or hindered me by offering useless suggestions or\nunwanted assistance. She never complained, either, under the most trying\ncircumstances, or made the slightest sound in those wild moments when we\nwere nearly thrown out of the van by the roughness of the road.\n\nWe were five miles from Bounty, but I found that I could get along on\nlow gear. A few miles farther on we came to another bad place, where the\nconduit had fallen in, but we managed to crawl through somehow. I was\nthankful to find a big garage at Bounty, with an efficient mechanic. He\nand I examined the car and found that the frame was sprung three inches\non either side. He said that the body would have to be slung up and the\nengine taken out and a new frame put in, and that this would take a week\nto do. So we unloaded the van by the church, and took out the mattresses\nalso for use in the tent, and then left the poor invalid at the garage.\n\nThere are garages in every prairie town, even in what we should call\nlittle villages, for in Saskatchewan there is a car for every two\npeople. These garages are well fitted up, and have all the latest\ninventions. Outside all of them there is a petrol pump and a \"Free Air\"\ncable for the convenience of passers-by. The latter has a gasolene\nengine which pumps up the air, so that you can fill your tyres in a\nsecond. No one thinks of using a hand-pump unless he has a burst right\nout on the prairie.\n\nWe lived in the tent this week, with most of our baggage stored in the\nchurch porch. As usual, the children helped us to arrange our things. I\nhad quite a holiday, with the caravan off my hands, but Winifred's\nduties went on as usual. We had apportioned the work as follows: she was\nto keep the interior of the van clean and do all the washing-up, whilst\nI drove, cleaned the engine, did repairs, etc., and cooked. Winifred's\njob was no sinecure. She hardly ever had much water for washing-up, so\nshe used to clean the horrid greasy dishes and things with paper and\nthen rinse them; and though I sometimes nearly threw her out of the van,\nshe in turn sometimes kept me out of it when she was having a thorough\nclean up--a necessary evil after a muddy day or a dust-storm.\n\nI wanted to telephone to Mr. W. at Regina, as he was holding my\ninsurance policy for the car, so I asked permission to do so from a\nresident who had already greatly befriended us. When 'phoning I found it\nvery difficult to hear what Mr. W. said; it seemed as if all the\nreceivers were open. I was further distracted by hearing the owner of\nthe telephone remark to Winifred, as she gazed at my back, \"Eh! isn't\nshe fat?\" as who should say, \"No wonder the frame was sprung!\"\n\nNext morning I walked to Conquest (six miles away) to interview the\nsecretary of the Municipal Council, as the inhabitants of Bounty thought\nthat the hole should have been attended to, and advised me to claim\ndamages. I failed to get any compensation, but Bounty benefited from our\nmisfortune, as the hole was immediately filled up. Calling at the\nConquest post-office for letters, the old postman remarked to me, \"I\nhave heard all about your accident. You girls, you drive too fast.\" It\nseemed that the entire district knew all the details, even to the cost\nof the repairs. I now remembered having heard that a favourite winter\namusement on the prairie was to take down your receiver and listen to\nthe conversations along the line. Report said that a certain courtship\nhad in this way provided entertainment for the whole neighbourhood.\n\n\n\n\n  CHAPTER XI\n\n  SOME ASPECTS OF PRAIRIE LIFE\n\n\nIt was unfortunate that there was no Anglican Sunday School in this\nplace, where we had perforce to spend a week. There were very few\nAnglicans there at all, but a great many Presbyterians and\nNonconformists, who united to form a Union church and Sunday School.\nThere was a very nice Anglican church, but most of the congregation\nlived at farms some distance away, coming in for Sunday services, when\nthe vicar also came in from one of his other districts. He came to see\nus on the Saturday night, and explained that on the morrow there would\nbe a United Family Service in the Anglican church, to which he was\ninviting all the members of the Union church. He asked us to write out\nand fix up notices about it. He also asked if we would give an address\nafter the service on the need for religious instruction for the\nchildren.\n\nSunday was a very hot day, and with sinking hearts we realised that the\ncongregation would be arrayed in lovely summer clothes, and that it was\nup to us not to discredit the Old Country. But it is difficult to look\none's best when caravanning, and even one of Paquin's frocks would lose\nits bloom in a cotton bag, and the smartest hat would look dashed after\nthe three-gallon oil tin had collided with it. Personally, I felt that\nmy bravest efforts would be futile since Winifred's remark as we arose\nthat morning: \"Let me look and see if you are as much a fright as you\nwere yesterday.\" When your nose and one eye have been entirely\nremodelled by a mosquito bite you do not look your best, nor can you be\nquite unselfconscious in public, and, alas! _I_ should have to give that\naddress, for Winifred had flatly refused.\n\nPatience is required when attending prairie meetings. What with the\nimmense distances, varying clocks, and unexpected obstacles on the\ntrails it is difficult to get anywhere to time. In this case we waited\nan hour for the organist, whose car had stuck in a mud hole. Winifred\nrose to the occasion, and was just making her way to the organ when the\nbelated car was heard and the big bronzed young farmer hurried in.\n\nThe elders of the Union church preceded the vicar and his churchwardens\nup the aisle. The service was a shortened form of evensong, interspersed\nwith many hymns. The sermon was a clear but non-controversial exposition\nof the Apostles' Creed. It was remarkable to notice how the preacher\nheld the attention of all present, from the child of five to the old\nlady with grey curls. One hoped that this united worship might pave the\nway for union on Christian essentials, so that Christian teaching might\nbe agreed upon for the schools and a united stand made against\nmaterialism and the many so-called Christian sects.\n\nAfter service I was called upon to address the congregation. I had to\nspeak from before the altar rails, there being no other place from which\nto command the congregation, except the pulpit, which I did not wish to\noccupy. As there had been a fairly long service, and the church was very\nfull and very hot, I thought that a ten minutes' address would be\nsufficient. So I spoke briefly on the importance of religious education,\nleading up from the wonderful way in which Canadians had helped in the\nWar, to the need for their help in warfare against evil. Christian\nsoldiers must be trained, and a young country needs a Christian\nfoundation. It is extraordinarily easy to hold the attention of a\nprairie congregation, and I was told afterward that they wished I had\ngone on longer. It is indeed a preacher's paradise.\n\nThe vicar had to leave at once for his next service. He motored about\neighty miles each Sunday and took four services. But the rest of us held\na kind of social gathering outside the church, where we had\nopportunities of studying the prairie fashions. Most of these gorgeous\ngarments are ordered by post from Timothy Eaton's store in Toronto. His\nenormous illustrated catalogue is sent yearly to every house, and is\ncommonly called \"The Prairie Bible.\" The children know it by heart, and\namuse themselves on winter evenings by cutting out and colouring the\nfashion plates, with the embarrassing result that when they see a\nneighbour in her new spring costume they remark, \"Oh, Mrs. So-and-So's\nnew hat is on page 603, price so many dollars.\"\n\nWe had a washing-day on the Monday. When near a farm they allowed us to\ntake our blouses, etc., and wash them with their apparatus, as the\nChinks, who did our heavy washing, ruined the finer things.\n\nOn the Tuesday we went to Swanson by train (the trains only ran on\ncertain days in the week). This had been one of the centres of the\nRailway Mission, and was worked with Birdview, but they had had no\nservices for about a year, owing to the scarcity of clergy, and they\nfelt the privation very much. The Railway Mission had now come to an\nend, and there were no clergy to supply these districts. We went to see\nthe leading church people, with a view to taking Swanson on our return\njourney if it seemed possible to start a Sunday School there. We were\ntold that there was no Sunday School of any kind thereabouts, and were\nadvised to go to the day school and beat up recruits, which we did with\ngreat success. A farmer's wife promised to gather the people together\nfor us when we came again, so that we could hold a demonstration school\nand a parents' meeting.\n\nWe wished to visit Birdview, but no train ran there that day. Our\nfriend Mrs. T., however, said that her son should drive us in a car. A\nterrible sandstorm blew up, and we were almost blinded in the open car.\nWe realised once more the advantage of a caravan. Great drifts of sand\nlay on the trail, and the car skidded from side to side, but we got\nthere. Mrs. T. had arranged by telephone that we were to stay the night\nwith a storekeeper and his wife. There were not many church people in\nBirdview, so I wanted to go out to a little mission church in the centre\nof outlying farms which used to be worked by the Railway Mission. The\nonly way to get there was by car, and the storekeeper thought that no\nhired car would face the storm. But, happily, the wind dropped and the\nsand subsided, and we found a car to take us. So the storekeeper's wife\nand I started off.\n\nWe were now in one of the \"dried out\" areas. There are certain belts of\nland in Saskatchewan which, when first taken up, nearly twenty years\nago, proved very fertile. But over-cultivation, though advised by the\nBoard of Agriculture in order to conserve the moisture, had rendered the\nsoil so fine that most of it had blown away. It had been of no great\ndepth to start with, and the sand below it had come to the surface, and\nnow blew in great drifts. As the wheat came up, the flying clouds of\nsand cut it down, and even buried the scrub. Little vegetation was\nvisible, and what wheat there was the grasshoppers devoured. They were\nenormous things, 3 inches long. They flew into the car with a great\n\"plop,\" and even jumped down my clothes. The farmers hereabouts were\nruined, and nobody would take their farms. They had not sufficient\ncapital to start again. Yet with all this they kept up their courage and\nhoped for better days.\n\nWhen we reached the little church we stuck fast in a big drift, but I\ntook the wheel while the man pushed, and at last we got out. We went on\nto the leading farmer's, where they welcomed us warmly. They had had no\nservices there for a very long time. I explained that we should like to\nvisit the place on our way back if they would collect the people to meet\nus. The farmer's wife expressed great delight at the idea. They had\nbeen so long without a clergyman, and had so much appreciated services\nwhen they had them. She found it very difficult, she said, to keep\nSunday when there was nothing to remind her of the day. They felt their\nspiritual privation, especially now that their material troubles were so\ngreat.\n\nI noticed here, as in many other places, an almost conscience-stricken\nlook on the parents' faces when I mentioned the necessity of religious\ninstruction for the children. It was not that they did not wish their\nchildren to be taught religious truths, but that they themselves were so\ncruelly overworked that they had no time for the care and forethought\nwhich the preparation of a lesson entails. When you work all the week\nfrom 5 a.m. to 10 or 11 p.m. you are exceedingly tired on Sunday; and\nyet there is still some necessary work to be done if you live on a farm.\nBut give these parents some idea of how and what to teach, with a\nsuitable book to follow and pictures to illustrate the subjects, and\nthey will do their very best, often making most excellent teachers. It\nis in places like this that the Sunday School by Post helps so greatly,\nespecially in winter, when the children cannot attend a Sunday school at\na distance.\n\nWe returned to Birdview that night (sticking again in the sand-drift on\nthe way). Our kind host and hostess refused to let us pay for our\nentertainment. We were continually receiving most generous hospitality\nall the time we were on the prairie. We were never allowed to pay for\nour milk and eggs at a farm, and we were invited to many meals, which\ngreatly helped our resources. We hardly liked to accept so much, knowing\nas we did how badly off the farmers sometimes were. But we knew how hurt\nthey would have been had we refused. Their generosity was a great lesson\nin almsgiving. They always treat all missionaries in this way.\n\nWe took the train to Conquest, and then had to walk to Bounty, a very\ntiring six miles on the rough trail with the wind against us.\nUnfortunately no car overtook us, for it is the invariable custom to\ngive pedestrians a lift. We went at once to the place where we had left\nour tent, but no tent was to be seen. We inquired about it at a\nneighbouring house, and a nice old man told us that the storm of the\nprevious night had smashed the pole and ripped up the canvas, whereupon\nhe had rescued it, otherwise it would now have been miles and miles away\nacross the prairie. We felt thankful that we had had a house over our\nheads when this happened.\n\nWe were now homeless, tent and caravan both _hors de combat_. Many kind\npeople would have taken us in, but in a prairie shack, or even in most\nof the smaller houses, there is seldom any accommodation for visitors,\nespecially women visitors. So I went round to beg an old broom-handle,\nand with this I spliced the tent-pole. Then Winifred and I set to work\non the canvas, and managed to restore it to the semblance of a tent\ncover. Early next morning another storm came on. We got up hurriedly and\ntook refuge in the church, for the tent showed signs of collapsing on\ntop of us.\n\nThat day we had been invited out to the B.'s farm. One of the Bounty\nfarmers drove us out there behind a spanking pair of horses which had\ntaken first prize at a show. A heavy thunderstorm came on and we were\nasked to spend the night, an invitation which was gratefully accepted in\nour shelterless circumstances. Mr. B. was a most interesting man. In\nEngland he had been a coachman, and had come out about seventeen years\nbefore with L8 in his pocket. He worked his way West, and took up a\nhalf-section. When he had got a home together a girl from the Old\nCountry came out and married him. Now he had a splendid farm; the house\nand farm-buildings were lit by electric-light. A feature of this farm,\nas of all others, was the enormous barn. This is always much larger than\nthe house. The hay and grain are stored at the top and the stables are\nbelow. On most large farms they keep at least twenty horses, besides\nup-to-date and ingenious machinery.\n\nThis farmer felt very strongly on the subject of emigration. As he truly\nsaid, in the Old Country he would probably have remained a coachman all\nhis life, and would have had nothing to leave his children. But it was\nuseless to come out to the prairie, he added, unless you were prepared\nto work hard. He himself worked from 5 a.m. to 10 p.m. throughout the\nsummer months. During the War he had been obliged to work his farm\nsingle-handed. Both he and all the other prairie farmers had given large\ngifts of wheat to England, and all the young farmers had enlisted in a\nbody directly war was declared, often travelling miles to the nearest\nrecruiting station.[5] In many cases their farms went to rack and ruin\nwhilst they were away, as there was no one else to work them. Large\nnumbers of them never returned.\n\nThe conversation at meal-time was most entertaining. Mr. B. used to\ninquire if things were still the same in the Old Country, and if folks\nstill touched their hats and said \"Sir\"--this with a twinkle in his eye\nas he looked at us. Of course, there are no class distinctions out West;\nthe very word is unknown. We agreed with our host that the fairest\nmeasurement of mankind is to judge each one on his own merits. It is\nquite certain that no one should come out here unless he can become what\nis called \"a good mixer.\" The following extract from one of Winifred's\nletters is descriptive of the country: \"The people . . . must have\npretty big minds to manage their own State, which is larger than the\nBritish Isles. There is, and must always be, a stretching out in this\ncountry, and it's a wide outlook for children . . . no appearances to\nkeep up, a natural existence, hard work, but suitable, and prospects for\nchildren. . . . Canada is a leisurely place; no bustle. It is too large,\nI think.\"\n\nWhen we got back to Bounty we found that the caravan was ready, and we\njoyfully fetched it from the garage and repacked it. Once again I felt\nglad that ours was a van rather than a roadster. Though more difficult\nto get along the trails it was a much more stable home. The wind is\nperhaps the greatest trial of prairie life. It sweeps with unbroken\nforce over these wide spaces. Sometimes we had to go all day without hot\nfood or drink, as of course it was not safe to use a Primus stove in the\ncaravan or tent. At times even a trench would not keep off the wind, but\nit usually dropped at night.\n\nWe regretfully bade farewell to the kind people of Bounty, feeling that\nthe town was well named, and went on to Rosetown. On the way we passed\nthrough another dried-out area; our car and several others stuck in a\ngreat sand-drift near a farmhouse, which was actually being submerged in\nsand. We went to the house to ask for the help of a team of horses. A\nyoung farmer and his sister lived there. The girl told us they were\n\"going to beat it,\" as nothing would grow, and the sand was up to the\nlower windows of the house. She had just washed some clothes and hung\nthem up inside the house, and yet they were covered with sand. I was\nmuch struck with her extraordinary cheerfulness in these trying\ncircumstances. This fine quality is characteristic of all Westerners.\n\nThe farmer pulled us out with his team, and we had no further trouble\nthat day.\n\n[Footnote 5: Canada raised an army of 450,000, and it is estimated that\n60 per cent. were members of the Church of England. The Canadian\ncasualties were 152,000.]\n\n\n\n\n  CHAPTER XII\n\n  MISSIONS AND MUD HOLES\n\n\nWhen we arrived at Rosetown the vicar and his wife were out, as they did\nnot know what time to expect us; but we found the vicarage door\nunlocked, as is the hospitable local custom, so we went in and read the\nletters from home which we knew were awaiting us there. Mr. and Mrs. M.\nsoon arrived, and gave us a very warm welcome. They insisted on our\nsleeping in the house instead of in the van, and having our meals with\nthem. We said that in that case they must let us help with the chores.\nMrs. M. had a tiny baby and no domestic help. Here, as elsewhere, our\nhost and hostess were delighted to meet anyone fresh from England. Mr.\nM. had worked on the Railway Mission, and was now in charge of this\ndistrict. A Canadian \"parish\" is often 2,000 or 3,000 square miles in\nextent. Mr. M. had a rural deanery of 6,000 square miles, and as many of\nhis clergy were in deacon's orders, he had to perform all priestly\nduties for them. He used a Ford car in the summer, and in the winter\ntook the tyres off a motor bicycle and fixed it up to run on the rail of\nthe track. The prairie being so flat, he could see the trains in time to\nget out of the way.\n\nWhen talking to men like this we realised that our summer adventures\nwere as nothing compared with what they experienced in the winter, with\nthe thermometer 50 degrees below zero and blinding blizzards in which it\nwas impossible to find one's way. This life of hardship and\nself-sacrifice won the respect of their parishioners and developed their\nown manhood. The farmers looked upon them as personal friends,\nfellow-men, instead of the remote being a clergyman is sometimes assumed\nto be. They are all-round men of affairs, too, as Winifred put it: \"Out\nhere a parson has to know about seeds and weather and dollars, but he is\nrespected also for his office, and valued very much for what he brings\nto the people.\"\n\nFor the most part the men out here are the pick of the junior clergy\nfrom Oxford and Cambridge, men who have sacrificed much in leaving\nEngland. The clergy depend upon voluntary contributions, there being no\nendowments, of course. It is reckoned that in the diocese of Qu'Appelle\nthe average contribution for each man, woman, and child is 15s. per\nhead. They use the envelope system, so that if prevented from attending\nchurch the money is set aside just the same. Besides this, the farmers\ngive generously in kind. But, as a clergyman's wife remarked to me,\nbutter and eggs, though very welcome, do not supply clothes for the\nchildren. The drawback to the voluntary system is that the clergyman's\nincome is as uncertain as that of his parishioners; for when the harvest\nfails there is no money for anyone. The Railway Mission clergy received\nmonetary support from the Fund, but this Mission was only a temporary\narrangement until the various districts became self-supporting. There\nis, however, a diocesan fund to help the poorer parishes. Though the\nparishioners do their best it is obvious that they can never provide\nmore than a scanty support for a clergyman who has a wife and family,\nand hence the great difficulty in filling the Canadian theological\ncolleges.\n\nThe Rosetown Sunday School was in a flourishing condition, for the vicar\nwas very keen. The children were taught to sing by a lady who had been\naccompanist to Clara Butt. On the Monday it had been arranged that I\nshould take a Bible-class of elder girls, but when Mr. M. took me down\nto the house where it was to be held, we found that none of the girls\nhad come (owing to school examinations), so we went to the movies\ninstead!\n\nThere is a splendid picture palace in every little prairie town, and\nsome of the films shown are really good. The cinema provides the sole\nrecreation for the entire populace. On Saturday evenings there are long\nlines of cars all down the street, when the farmers and their wives come\ninto town to shop and go to the pictures and meet each other.\n\nI was asked to give a missionary address next day to the junior branch\nof the Women's Auxiliary.[6] This particular branch proposed to call\nitself \"The Busy Bees,\" because the members intended to work so hard. I\ntalked to the children about the \"Hope of the World\" picture, which\nseemed suitable to this country of many nationalities. Winifred remarked\nthat it was a splendid country from the missionary point of view as\n\"they _see_ black and white and brown.\" Where this junior branch had\nbeen started the children were keen to join, just as every Canadian\nchurchwoman seemed to belong to the Women's Auxiliary. From many years'\nexperience as a secretary for S.P.G. one longed to see the Church of\nEngland follow Canada's example by directing all her missionary effort\ninto one channel, and one wished that missionary fervour were as\nuniversal.\n\nJust at the time when we had planned to start from Rosetown a tremendous\nthunderstorm came on, making the trails quite impassable for several\ndays. The water cart which brought the town's drinking water from five\nmiles away could not get in for three days, so we had very short\nrations. On the Thursday I determined to leave for Kerrobert, in spite\nof Mr. M. saying that no one ought to go out on such trails. I knew that\nif we did not start at once we should not get to Kerrobert by Sunday.\nThe trails were indeed dreadful, about the worst we had ever seen. The\nhalf-dried mud was like putty. We had the Parsons' chains on, but even\nso we skidded from side to side and had to go on low gear all the time.\n\nAbout a mile out of the town we came face to face with a large wagon and\nfour horses, which refused to make way for us. The road was steeply\ngraded, so that if you got off it you would slide down into the mud and\nwater of the ditch. I pointed out that it was as awkward for us as it\nwas for them, indeed worse, as they had horses. They replied that if we\nstuck they would pull us out, and making a dash for it I managed to get\non the gradient and up again. But what was my horror to find, a little\nfarther on, another great wagon left standing in the middle of the road.\nIt appeared that they had taken the horses from this to help on the\nother wagon. There was nothing for it but to drive round it, and this\ntime my luck failed and we stuck fast in the mud. One of my Parsons'\nchains had come off in the last place, we found.\n\nI put on another chain with great difficulty, as the jack kept\ncontinually sinking in the thick mud. When I had finished I looked round\nfor Winifred, and could not see her anywhere. I got the car out and\nwaited. Still no Winifred. Feeling very anxious, I went off to a\nneighbouring farm and asked to be allowed to telephone. I then rang up\nMrs. M. at Rosetown, but she had seen nothing of her. At last I saw her\ncoming along the road. She had been to look for the lost chain, found it\nwas broken and had got it mended in the town.\n\nWe then went on with great difficulty till we came to a most awkward\nplace. It was a bridge over a creek, very narrow, and just as muddy as\nthe rest of the trail, with a very rotten paling on either side. I knew\nthat if the caravan skidded it would smash this paling and fall four or\nfive feet into the little stream below. As there was no reason why we\nshould both run the risk I asked Winifred to get out, and then managed\nto crawl over safely. Presently we came to a very bad bit, nothing but\nlarge holes of mud and water, but we ploughed through. Then came a\ntremendously steep hill up which I tried to rush, but I stuck half-way.\nEven with the chains on the wheels could not grip in the sticky mud, and\nunloading failed to help us. I then sought assistance from a farm at the\ntop of the hill, and the farmer, a Frenchman, brought a horse and pulled\nus up. The trail got worse farther on, and we camped at the next farm we\ncame to. We were in a dreadful condition of dirt and hunger, our feet\ntwice their normal size with clotted mud, the caravan full of lumps of\nmud, our hands and clothes all over mud. I did not feel much like\ncooking, so when I went to the farm house for water I asked if we might\nboil some eggs there. Whereupon the farmer's wife insisted on giving us\nthe eggs as well as boiling them for us, and she also gave us boiling\nwater for our coffee. We thankfully ate our supper and went to bed.\n\nAfter sticking in several mud holes next day, we finally stuck fast in a\nvery deep one, but a farmer ploughing near pulled us out. He told us\nthat the trails got worse between here and Kerrobert, no cars had been\nthrough for several days, and he advised us to stop the night at his\nfarm and go on by train next day. So we drove the van into his yard and\nreceived a kind welcome from his wife. I wanted to let the vicar of\nKerrobert know that we were coming. They said that there was a telephone\nat the next farm a mile or so away, so I walked over there. On my return\nI found it exceedingly difficult to find my way in that featureless\ndistrict, and I should probably have got lost had I not heard Winifred's\nhail.\n\nWe tried to make some return for the kind hospitality we received here\nby helping with the chores, but zeal without knowledge is a dangerous\nthing, and one of us, washing up the separator, dissected it so\nthoroughly that the farmer's wife gazed in consternation at the result.\n\n\nOn the Saturday the farmer drove us into Rosetown when he went in for\nhis weekly shopping. He promised to look after the caravan for us while\nwe were away. We got to Kerrobert in good time that night, and were able\nto carry out all our Sunday engagements. But we missed the caravan very\nmuch, as we could not take all our apparatus without it, and we had to\nput up at an hotel as the vicarage was very small. These little hotels\nare expensive and not at all comfortable. We hoped great things when we\ncaught sight of a bath, and promised ourselves a real treat, but on\ninspection it proved to be full of dust, with no water laid on.\n\nThere had been a Sunday School at Kerrobert, but the teachers had left\nthe district. The vicar was too busy to take it, and his wife had her\nhands full with two small children. But for several Sundays in\nsuccession the children had come as usual, waiting and hoping against\nhope that the school would be held. Two little boys of six and seven\nyears old had driven three miles in a buggy by themselves. The joy of\nthese children made our struggles to get to them well worth while. There\nwere about twenty of them in all. It grieved me that, though the Union\nSunday school had plenty of teachers, no one could be found to teach the\nChurch of England children.\n\nWe visited some very fine day schools and gave Bible lessons there, and\nalso gave an address to parents in the church. The vicar arranged a\nchildren's service for the next day, so Winifred stayed to give the\naddress while I went to fetch the caravan. Mr. M. drove me out to the\nfarm, but I did not get started with the van till about 3.30 p.m. The\ntrails had dried up a good deal, but the ruts were perfectly awful, as\nthey always are after these heavy rains.\n\nI had great difficulty in finding the way without Winifred to hold the\nmap and direct me. Presently I came to a little town and stopped at the\ngarage to refill my gasolene tank, but the petrol pump was empty. I had\nplenty in the side tanks but it took so long to siphon it out, so I\ndetermined to run on with what I had left. But beyond the town was a\nsteep hill, and as I could get no run at it, and my gasolene being so\nlow, I stuck half-way up. Again I missed Winifred badly. I could not get\nout to unload because the brakes were not strong enough to hold the\nloaded van, so I had to back to the bottom of the hill, unload, drive\nthe van up, and then load again. This wasted a lot of time, though I got\nsome help from a passer-by. Then I came to a \"wash-out\"--_i.e._, a\nconduit that has fallen in. This one was a large hole right across the\ntrail about five feet deep. As there was a large slough on either side I\nhad to go back four or five miles to find another trail. I could not\nturn between the sloughs and so had to reverse for some way.\n\nThe great difficulty now was to know where to go. I had been following\nmain trails, but now I had to take any side trail in the desired\ndirection which seemed passable. I went mostly by the sun, as I knew my\nway lay north and west. When it was growing dusk I was going down a\nsteep hill, when I noticed a bit of wood lying across the trail. I\nthought it was merely a broken piece of wagon rack. At the same time I\nexperienced the most curious sensation, a strong warning not to go any\nfarther, the like of which I have never felt before or since. I stopped\nthe van, and getting out walked along the trail a few paces and found a\ngreat wash-out right across the road. It was much worse than the former\none, with quite as deep a drop and a much wider chasm. Had I gone on I\ncould not have escaped it, and must have been badly hurt if not killed.\nI heard afterwards that there had recently been two bad accidents here.\nOne man had broken three ribs and had had to be nursed at a neighbouring\nfarm, there being no hospital near.\n\nTo the side of the wash-out there was an equally bad hole, but it had\nnot such a sudden drop. It was evident that cars had been through this,\nso I tried it. Remembering the sprung frame, I went rather too slowly\nand stopped dead just on the opposite incline, at an acute angle. My\ngasolene being so low contributed to this misfortune, so I filled up my\ntank by siphoning from the side tank and tried to crank the car, as the\nelectric starter had gone wrong that morning. At this angle it is almost\nimpossible to crank any car, and this handle was stiff, so I blistered\nmy hands in vain. As it was late I made up my mind to go to bed and\ntackle it in the morning. I was hungry, however, and had had no food\nsince I started, so seeing a farm about half a mile off I went to get\nmilk and water. The farmer's wife said she was sick of this hole, so\nmany accidents happened there. She promised that her husband should come\nand help me in the morning, and said that she would telephone to the\nSecretary of the Municipal Council to see if they could not get the road\nmended.\n\nI had my supper and was just going to bed, when I saw the headlights of\nan approaching car. I hurried out to stop them before they reached the\nwash-out. It was an enormous caravan on its way to Kerrobert sports.\nThey were very grateful, and said they would tow me out in the morning,\nbefore they went on, if 4 a.m. was not too early. It was very difficult\ngoing to bed at this angle, but I managed to sleep. The prairie air is\nso wonderful that you can sleep anywhere and anyhow. Next morning the\nother van crawled round me and tried to pull me out, but my rope broke,\nand I told them not to stop for me. The farmer came later on, and\nbetween us we managed to get the engine going by priming the sparking\nplug, and then I got out of the hole all right.\n\nThe farmer directed me along the main trails. But, unknown to him, there\nhad been a cloud-burst in this district during the recent thunderstorm,\nand this had washed away conduits and formed great sloughs within the\nspace of three hours. Consequently I spent the day retracing my path and\ntrying to find passable trails.\n\nOn one occasion I stuck fast in a very bad mud-hole, and so went to a\nfarm for help. The farmer sent his man with two horses, and he pulled me\nout. While he was unhitching the horses, he became embarrassingly\nconfidential. Beginning with the usual query \"Are you married?\" and the\ninevitable \"Why not?\" he intimated that now was the opportunity. I\ngathered he was \"baching it\" as many do, which meant that he had to do\nall his own domestic chores as well as his farmwork. I could imagine\nwhat his shack looked like, having seen some when asking the way with\ntheir unwashed crockery and general disorder, and I guessed that he was\nwanting a housekeeper and thought that I looked strong and useful. The\nman would take no money for his service, and when I refused to let him\ncome and sit beside me in the caravan he called me ungrateful. It was an\nawkward situation, and I saw that the only thing to do was to get away\nat once. But as the caravan was not quite out of the mud the engine had\nstopped as soon as the horses ceased pulling. Fortunately they now\nbecame so restive that they took all the man's attention, so I cranked\nthe car like lightning, jumped in and got away.\n\nFarther on I stuck again in alkaline mud, which sucks you down, but a\nfarmer lent me boards and I managed to run along them. Presently I\nreached a farm with a telephone, and sent a message to Winifred lest she\nshould be anxious. The farmer's wife kindly offered me food, which I\ngladly accepted, as I had had none since early morning. On other\noccasions, when we could not stop to cook, Winifred fed me with biscuits\nand chocolate, as on these rough trails I had to keep both hands on the\nwheel. When I tried to start the car again it would not crank. But there\nwas a small hill near the farm, so I pushed the car to the brow of it by\nturning the wheels by the spokes. Then came the exciting moment when the\nvan began to run down the hill and I had to jump in with all speed.\n\nAt a place called Dodsland I was advised to cut across the prairie, as\nthe main trail was impassable. I had an exciting time bumping over the\nhillocks, and felt sure that everything in the van was being smashed to\npieces. Finally, by asking the way at isolated farms, I got in sight of\nKerrobert, and then found yet another slough half across my path, in\nwhich two side wheels stuck fast as I tried to get by. My efforts to dig\nthe car out proved futile, so I went to a near-by farm for help. I found\nnumbers of horses, but no men. Everyone had gone to Kerrobert sports. I\nwas sorely tempted to take some horses and pull the car out myself. Then\na car came along from Kerrobert, and most kindly turned round and hauled\nme out. I got into the town about 9.30 p.m. and went straight to the\nvicarage, where I found Winifred.\n\n[Illustration: PRAIRIE SCHOLARS]\n\n[Illustration: A YOUNG HERDSMAN (see page 91)]\n\n[Illustration: A PRAIRIE SCHOOL]\n\n[Illustration: A MAPLE LEAF TEACHER AND HER PUPILS\n\n  _To face p. 71_]\n\nThe next day I took the van to the garage to have the electric starter\nrepaired, but as it was a new pattern the spare parts were not in stock,\nand they could not promise them before Saturday. This was awkward, as we\nwere due at Coleville on the Friday (the next day). We could not work\nthe Coleville district without the caravan, so many of the schools being\nfar from the track. We went up on Friday by train, and back on Saturday\nfor the car, which was not ready till Sunday afternoon, however. But we\narrived at Coleville during evensong, in time for Winifred to play and\nfor me to give the address.\n\n[Footnote 6: See Appendix III.]\n\n\n\n\n  CHAPTER XIII\n\n  FURTHER PRAIRIE SKETCHES\n\n\nWe had come to Coleville at the special invitation of Mr. H., the\nclergyman in charge of the district. It seemed strange to meet out here,\nhe being the son of the late vicar of my parish at home. We had promised\nto spend a week in his district, and he had planned out a full programme\nfor us. On the Monday we gave an address in Coleville school (during\nschool hours), and then went on to Victory school. This school-house was\na mile and a half from any other house, and many miles from a town. All\naround were wide stretches of unbroken prairie, with a few farms here\nand there. The prairie was covered with flowers of all colours--the\nwild, blue flax, flame-coloured mallows, many-hued vetches, and a lovely\ndeep pink low growing wild rose with a very sweet perfume, and a small\nanousa of turquoise blue.\n\nA Maple Leaf teacher was in charge of this little one-roomed school--a\nvery pretty girl. She was delighted to see anyone out from England.\nAfter school was over the children brought round the teacher's horse,\nand then they all mounted and galloped away in a picturesque cavalcade.\nMost of them lived about four miles off.\n\nWe went on to Smilie in the evening, where I gave an address to parents\nand children. While I was buying gasolene next morning, a man came into\nthe garage, and, seeing the name on the van, began a conversation with\nus. He _was_ glad that someone was going round to teach the children, he\nsaid. He had been taught the Bible when he was young, but nowadays\npeople knew nothing about it. Why, only the other day he had asked a\nworkman if he knew what building it was which had been raised without\nsound of axe or hammer, and he actually didn't know! It was _quite_ time\nthe children were taught the Bible.\n\nWe had no housekeeping cares in this district, as Mr. H. had arranged\nfor nearly all our meals to be provided. So generous, indeed, were the\nfolk of this neighbourhood that all our gasolene was sold to us at\nhalf-price. On the Tuesday we went out to a prairie school where they\nwere having holidays. But our visit had been announced, and the children\ndrove in to have a Bible lesson, holiday time though it was. Moreover,\nafter Winifred had given them an hour's lesson the class still refused\nto disperse.\n\nOut here I saw the first flock of sheep which I had found on the\nprairie. We had dinner with the owner, an old Welsh farmer, and his\nwife. He remarked that he was very glad that we were going round to\nteach the children, and when I asked why, he replied that the young\npeople now growing up hadn't been taught the Bible as he and his wife\nhad been taught it at home in Wales, adding gloomily: \"Half the motor\ncars you see in the town on a Saturday evening haven't been paid for.\nIt's time somebody went round to teach them something.\"\n\nHe did not usually attend any meetings, it seemed, but we had evidently\nmade a good impression, for, to everybody's surprise, he turned up in\nthe evening at my address to parents. We had a special Welsh hymn in his\nhonour. This meeting, as was often inevitable, was an hour late in\nbeginning. Those who arrived first telephoned to the rest to know if\nthey had started. It was rather like a Derby day, Mr. H., on the top of\nthe caravan, announcing from time to time who was first in the field.\nWhile we were waiting, a good many young men were introduced with the\nusual formula, \"Meet Mr. So-and-So, one of our bachelors,\" and etiquette\nobliged us to reply, \"Pleased to meet you.\"\n\nNext morning we went out to Travet Park school, miles away across the\nunbroken prairie. We should never have found our way had not Mr. H.\naccompanied us. It was pleasant to miss the telephone poles and see\ncountless flowers instead. We never passed a farm all the way, and we\ncould hardly see the trail. At Travet Park the teacher told us that she\nhad started a Sunday School on Fridays after school hours, but very much\nwanted help with books. The children here listened with breathless\nattention to the lesson we gave them. It was most encouraging to find\nboth teacher and children so keen. We had dinner at a farm, and\nafterwards I took the van to collect people for the parents'\nmeeting--among others, a young mother with her tiny baby, and an old\nlady with a broad Cockney accent and a bonnet trimmed with black\ncherries, some of which were jolted off in the van and remained with us\nas trophies. It was a real cross-country run. We were actually _told_ to\ndrive over the wheat. Then we came to a ditch which we crashed into and\nout again, and then over a large badger's hole. By the time we arrived\nat the school I felt that all ideas had been jerked out of my head. But\nthe meeting began with a hymn, and then Winifred said a few words, and\nby that time I had collected my scattered wits.\n\nNext day we had a puncture far out on the prairie--our first\nmisadventure of the kind. I had no spare wheel, and this entailed a hot\njob in the broiling sun. At last we arrived at the farm where we were\ntaking Mr. H. to baptize two children--a child of three and an infant in\narms. The father was ploughing, but he left his horses and came in for\nthe baptism.\n\nWe then went on to Kindersley, where Mr. W. was in charge. We had done\n130 miles in Mr. H.'s parish. Mr. W. kindly gave us a special\nCelebration next morning, as Mr. H., who was still in deacon's orders,\nwas never able to have one. He then returned to his district.\n\nWe spent a week at Kindersley. The Women's Auxiliary had arranged to\ngive us dinner and supper every day in different people's houses\nthroughout our visit, and others brought us milk and eggs for breakfast.\nWe met many thoughtful and interesting people here, some of whom had\nbeen early settlers. While entertaining us, they told us stories of\nthese early days. The settler and his wife used to trek fifty miles in\nan ox-wagon to the bit of land he had bought. There they lived in a tent\nuntil he could build a sod shack. The wife would perhaps have to go\ntwenty miles to the nearest slough to wash her clothes, and sixty miles\nfor stores, letters, etc. Probably there would not be another woman for\nmiles around. In time a solid wooden shack replaced the sod building,\nand the farm slowly acquired all the latest modern appliances. Then\nmotor-cars linked the isolated farms together, and with the coming of\nthe railway little towns sprang up here and there. These tales of quiet\nheroism filled me with great admiration.\n\nOn the Saturday the president of the Women's Auxiliary invited us to\nmeet all the members at a tea-party, and asked me to give a description\nof our aims and objects. They seemed interested, and thought it was a\nwork which the W.A. might support. On the Sunday we had an early\nCelebration, and, after breakfast, started off for Avonhill, some\nsixteen miles away in Mr. H.'s district, which we had been unable to\nvisit on the previous Sunday. We went along a road with sloughs on\neither side until we found a slough right across the trail. So I had to\nreverse on this narrow road for about a quarter of a mile, and then had\nto cut across the prairie; this made us an hour late in arriving. We\nheld a service for parents and teachers and children, and left them some\nbooks. Although we were invited to dinner, there was no time to stop for\nany, and we got back to Kindersley just in time for the Sunday School at\n2.30.\n\nOn the Tuesday I held a study circle in the church for adults (by\nrequest). It was on \"Prayer and the Prayer Book.\" Among the members was\na \"Dunkard,\" a sect which combines the tenets of the Quaker and the\nPlymouth Brother. This woman had a most spiritual and beautiful face.\nShe wore a sort of uniform with a dark bonnet much like a Salvation Army\ngirl's. There were some Presbyterians in the class, too. We ended with a\ndiscussion on the respective value of forms of prayer and of extempore\nprayer, those not in communion with us showing great sympathy and\nbreadth of mind.\n\nNext day we went out on the prairie with the vicar, to visit the parents\nand children who lived far away. There had been some rain, which added\nto the glory of the flowers--masses of wild mustard and purple vetch and\nluxuriant gaillardias.\n\nOn Friday, July 9, we started for Alsask, fifty miles off. We arrived by\nsupper-time, though we did not start till 4 p.m. We had a terrific\nthunderstorm on the way. It was a wonderful and terrible sight, great\nzig-zags of forked lightning against inky black clouds. We tried to keep\npace with the storm, expecting a torrential rain at every moment, which\nwould render the trails impassable. I set my teeth, and got every\npossible ounce of speed out of the caravan. We could actually feel the\nheat of the lightning. (They are called out here \"electrical storms.\")\nJust as we thankfully caught sight of the Alsask elevators, the storm\nincreased. A terrific wind got up, and we saw a great grey cloud of dust\nswirling towards us, mingling with the black storm-clouds above. As we\nentered Alsask, the clouds burst and the rain came down in torrents. I\ntore down the main street looking for a garage, to get the van under\ncover as soon as possible. Fortunately, I soon found one. When the storm\nhad partially subsided, we made our way to the vicarage, and from under\ncover watched the lightning and tried to take photos of it. Later on,\nwhen it had cleared a little, we brought the caravan up to the vicarage\nand slept in it.\n\nThe vicar and his wife were not long out from Southwark Diocese. He had\nbeen secretary for his diocese for the A.W.C.F., and, like me, had got\nkeen in this way. The vicar's wife was a trained educationist, and ran a\nsplendid Sunday School, but, like all who know the most about a subject,\nshe was eager for fresh suggestions. Here, also, we received much\nhospitality, and so got to know the people, and when we were not at\nother folks' houses the children were with us. On the Sunday we held a\ndemonstration Sunday School.\n\nWhile we were here a Sunday-school picnic was arranged. There were about\nthirty to forty children, most of whom went with their parents, but we\ntook some in the van and the vicar took some in his car. Shrieks of\nlaughter arose from our passengers when the van skidded badly in the\nsand. Our destination was a big slough, which was almost a small lake.\nThere was a crazy boat on it, in which the children rowed about, keeping\nit afloat by vigorous bailing. I unwillingly adventured in this craft in\nresponse to a pressing invitation, feeling certain that my weight would\nsend it to the bottom. A further diversion was paddling, in which we\nalso joined the children. It was very hot and quite shadeless: 104\ndegrees in the shade and 126 degrees in the sun is quite usual during\nthe Canadian summer, hence the national welcome accorded to ice-cream.\nOn this occasion the vicar brought a barrelful, which he doled out into\ncone biscuits all through the afternoon. Each child ate about six, but\nthey paid for what they had. These ice-creams are most delicious and\nwholesome, being made of pure cream from the Co-operative Creameries.\nThese are established in all large towns. They buy up the farmers'\ncream, making it into butter or ice-cream, the latter being sent all\nover the country in barrels. Co-operation is one of the great secrets of\nsuccess out here. Even this picnic tea was co-operative. Everybody\nbrought their own, and then shared it with others. Thus the speciality\nof some clever housewife was enjoyed by many; and Mrs. X.'s iced layer\ncake or Mrs. Y.'s salad was greatly in demand. Everybody wished to have\nhis or her \"picture\" taken, and it was very difficult to get them all\nin, so we perched some on the top of the caravan.\n\nOn the Thursday we had another expedition. The vicar had just returned\nfrom camping with his scouts at Laverna Lake, some thirty miles off, and\nhe happened to mention that he had left all his equipment there and did\nnot know how to get it back, so I suggested that we should fetch it in\nthe caravan. We got there in good time, though the trails were rough,\nand I had a delicious swim before lunch.\n\nIt is a beautiful lake, surrounded by low hills. All around the margin\nwere lovely wild tiger-lilies. Mr. H., from Coleville, was in camp there\nwith his scouts. It is an ideal place for a camp.\n\nWe got back to Alsask in time to give a Bible picture talk to the\nchildren around the caravan. Then we went on to a social evening, at\nwhich we were asked to speak. All present seemed to realise the great\nimportance of work amongst the children.\n\nOn Friday morning the vicar kindly gave us an early Celebration as we\nwere going on to Youngstown, eighty miles away, where there was no\nAnglican clergyman. It was a very hot day, and the trails were extremely\nrough. When running one felt a little air, but when one stopped for\nmeals the heat was intense. The tyres got so hot that I had to keep them\ncovered or they would have burst.\n\nAlsask is on the borders of Saskatchewan and Alberta, and we were now in\nAlberta. We had written in advance to a Mr. and Mrs. S., some of the\nleading laity of Youngstown, and Mrs. S. had replied that it would be\nuseless for us to attempt anything there this week because a Chautauqua\nwould be going on. Therefore, as Youngstown was the most westerly point\nof the diocese which we were to visit, we thought it best to go on and\nmake arrangements for our work when the Chautauqua should be over,\nmeanwhile going on to Banff to see the Rockies. We did not arrive at\nYoungstown till 8 p.m., and had to wait for some time before we could\nsee Mrs. S. as she was out. We then arranged meetings for the Saturday\nand Sunday of the following week, thus giving her time to let all the\npeople know.\n\n\n\n\n  CHAPTER XIV\n\n  A CAMPING TRIP IN THE ROCKIES\n\n\nWhile I was visiting Mrs. S., Winifred had found a garage where we could\nleave the caravan. She had also inquired about the trains for Banff, and\nfound that one left about 5 a.m. next morning. Mrs. S. gave me the\nvicarage key, so that we might store our things there. This we did\novernight. We got up very early in the morning, collected our\nsleeping-bags, the tent, the tea-basket and a little food, with a small\nsaucepan and a spirit lamp, and a \"grip\" apiece, and drove these things\nto the station in the van. We then left the van outside the garage (as\npreviously arranged), because it did not open till 7 a.m., and just\nmanaged to catch the train. We had a few hours' wait at Calgary, and\narrived at Banff about twelve o'clock at night. We had not the least\nidea where to go, and there was nobody about except an old man with a\nlorry. I asked him where the camping-ground was, and he replied that it\nwas too far to go that night, but he would take us to a place where we\ncould camp for the present, and he would come and fetch us in the\nmorning; so we put our things on the lorry and climbed up after them,\nand he whipped up his horses and drove off at a gallop into the\ndarkness.\n\nPresently we stopped suddenly where a wood loomed up against a\nstar-strewn sky. \"Here's the place,\" our charioteer said briefly, and we\npulled our things off the lorry and were speedily left alone. It was\npitch dark under the pines, so we could not see to put the tent up. We\ngroped for the rope which confined the tent and sleeping-bags, and after\nsome fumbling undid the knots and got out the bags and waterproof sheets\nand mosquito-nets. Then we undressed with great difficulty in the heavy\ndew, and somehow or other crawled into the bags and rolled ourselves up\nin the waterproofs and pulled the mosquito-nets right over our heads.\nThe latter pests were awful. They even bit us through the nets, and made\nsuch a noise in the early morning that we could stand it no longer, and\ngot up, whereupon they fell upon us with renewed zest.\n\nWe now saw the exquisite beauty of the place. The sun shone down through\nthe tall pine-trees and glittering dew-drops spangled every blade of\ngrass. We came out of the wood, and there were the Rockies in full\nview--lovely pointed peaks, with snow on their summits. Near at hand\nflowed a beautiful clear river. Trees and water were an intense delight\nafter the bare stretches of prairie.\n\nI collected sticks and boiled coffee in the little saucepan, and we had\nthe most delicious breakfast. By the time we had finished the old man\nhad come for us. He drove us a few miles beyond the town to a large\npine-wood. The Spray River ran through this wood--a swift clear stream,\nopalescent with melting snow. The wood was full of tents, but we found a\nnice spot near the river for our camp, not too near anyone else. I then\nwent off into the town to look for an Anglican church, as it was Sunday\nmorning. The way into the town was through a beautiful avenue of tall\npines, an avenue over two miles long. By dint of asking the way I found\na lovely little church. It had the prettiest natural decoration--moss\ngrowing on the window-sills. It was just 11 a.m. when I arrived, and I\nfound there would be both Matins and Holy Communion. I was well rewarded\nfor my efforts. In the evening we both went into the town for evensong,\nand had supper at a restaurant.\n\nWe had heard of the beauty of Lake Louise, so on Monday we made a trip\nthither. The last part of the way was by a funicular railway. Lake\nLouise was hardly known before 1890. It is a small jewel of a lake, just\nover a mile long and a quarter of a mile wide. It lies 5,670 feet above\nsea-level, and Mount George at the head of the lake is 11,355 feet high.\nThis mountain is covered with glaciers and perpetual snow. I live in\nthe Lake District, and also know the lakes of Scotland, Switzerland, and\nItaly, but I have never seen such exquisite colouring as that of Lake\nLouise. It flashes on you suddenly as you emerge from the pine woods, a\nmirror of gleaming turquoise, framed on either side by dark pine-clad\nslopes, with glistening white peaks between them, these being reflected\nin the clear waters. On the lower slopes of the mountains and at the\nfoot of the lake there is vivid emerald green grass. Facing this\nloveliness the C.P.R. has built an artistic hotel, chalet fashion, which\ndoes not spoil the landscape. From the windows of this hotel the whole\nenchanting picture is seen as in a frame.\n\nIn the afternoon Winifred went in a motor char-a-banc to see other lakes\nand mountains, and I walked up through the pine woods on the right of\nLake Louise to Lake Agnes, a climb of 1,200 feet. A little above this I\nsaw a tiny lake called Mirror Lake. These two are sometimes called the\nLakes in the Clouds. By this time a thunderstorm had come on, which\ngreatly enhanced the grandeur of the scene.\n\nOn the Tuesday I went to the famous sulphur baths at Banff. The water\ncomes out at 98 degrees in one spring and 112 degrees in the other.\nThere are open-air swimming baths with glass all round them, so that you\ncan see the mountains all the time. The next day we went down the river\nin a motor-boat, seeing a most wonderful panorama of woods and\nmountains, which a thunderstorm made more beautiful. The lightning\nseemed to strike a waterfall and glance off again. That same night there\nwas another tremendous storm, the thunder echoing and re-echoing in the\nmountains, sounding as if two storms had met and burst above us. I\ndistinctly felt the heat of the lightning and could not help wondering\nhow soon it would be before we were struck, being under trees. But\nalthough the rain was terrific it never came through the tent.\n\nAnother day we motored to Lake Minawaake, passing several canyons. We\ncame back by Banff Park, where we saw moose and other tame wild animals,\nthe most interesting of all being the buffalo, one of which was\nwallowing with his legs in the air. I took a photo of him, but was not\nallowed to get out of the car to do so as they said he would probably\ncharge. This is the only herd now in existence, and they once covered\nthe prairie. Another very interesting sight was the lumber being floated\ndown the Bow River to Banff, where it is sawn up and sent by train all\nover the prairie. The flowers here were very luxuriant. The most\nstriking one was the Red Indian's Paint Brush.\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  1. THE AVENUE AT BANFF, ALBERTA\n  2. LAKE LOUISE\n  3. LUMBER ON THE BOW RIVER\n\n  _To face p. 80_]\n\n[Illustration: SLINGING HAY INTO THE BARN (see page 87)]\n\n[Illustration: THE CHURCH ON THE INDIAN RESERVE (see page 99)]\n\nOn the Friday we returned to Youngstown. We had a very exciting journey\nas there were sixty wash-outs on the track. It was very sandy, and had\ngiven way in the recent big storms. You wondered all the time what was\ngoing to happen next, especially after it grew dark and they kept\nshunting us from one line to another. Then a madman got in, and insisted\non conversing with us when he was not fighting, until removed by the\nconductor. We arrived at Youngstown at 1.30 a.m., but as the tent had\nnot arrived, and the caravan was garaged, we had nowhere to sleep, and\nso finished the night on a very hard wooden bench in the waiting-room.\n\n\n\n\n  CHAPTER XV\n\n  ON THE RETURN JOURNEY\n\n\nThe Chautauqua at Youngstown was now over, but we heard all about it\nfrom Mrs. S. It consists of meetings, with lectures on all sorts of\ninternational and intellectual subjects, interspersed with concerts and\nsocial gatherings. It seems a very good plan for places far from large\ncentres of human life and thought. By this means they are brought into\ntouch with modern movements. Speakers from all over the world lecture at\nthese Chautauquas. Mrs. Pankhurst was speaking at this one.\n\nThat night we gave our promised picture talk around the caravan. We had\na mixed congregation of Anglicans, Roman Catholics, and Lutherans. The\nchildren seemed most interested, and would hardly go away. The\nAnglicans were without a clergyman at present, and they felt this\nprivation very keenly. They had had one of the Railway Mission clergy,\nwho had lived here and worked the surrounding district. The four\nmissioners who had served this district at different times had all been\nkilled in the War. Now no one was forthcoming owing to the distressing\ndearth of clergy. Everything was ready should anyone be sent. Monetary\nsupport was guaranteed. The vicarage was a nice little two-roomed shack\nwith a garage and Ford car all complete. The church was dusty from long\ndisuse, and Winifred spent all Saturday cleaning it. The furniture had\nbeen made by one of the congregation. It was of some dark wood and of\nvery original design. The asphalt path from the church to the vicarage\nhad been laid by a Roman Catholic neighbour. This same spirit of\ngoodwill was shown when I went to buy gasolene and oil from a Youngstown\nRoman Catholic. He refused to take any money for it, saying that he was\nglad to help on religious work amongst the children.\n\nOn Sunday we held a Sunday school at 3 p.m. The children were most eager\nfor instruction; they knew almost nothing, poor little things. In the\nevening we had a service for adults in the church. A man took the\ncollection in his hat because they could find nothing else. He carried\nit up the aisle and gave it to me, and as I laid it on the altar I felt\nthat it was a more acceptable offering than many a laden alms dish\noffered that night in some rich cathedral. Here, as in many places, we\nwere asked who paid us. When we explained that we were not paid, it\nseemed to give the people a better grasp of spiritual things. In this\ncountry of growing materialism, in which the monetary value of a thing\nis of first importance, it was difficult for them to understand anyone\ndoing honorary work. They began to think religious education must be of\nreal importance when they saw that we considered the work its own\nreward. The congregation asked us to keep the collection money for our\nwork, so we thanked them and promised to use it towards paying for the\npictures which we left at each place.\n\nIn all the parishes which we visited we left a dozen Nelson pictures\nbacked on linen, with wooden slips top and bottom so that they could be\nhung up in the church, and also some small Nelson pictures for use in\nclass, as well as lesson books of different grades. Where the Canadian\nSunday School magazine was in use the teachers found these additional\nbooks useful to supplement it both in matter and method.\n\nWe discovered that there were several outlying missions which had been\nworked from Youngstown, so we decided to visit the nearer ones, and take\nthe others on our way back to Regina. On the Monday we went to Ryson and\nlooked up the children at the farms and got them to join the Sunday\nSchool by Post. At one farm we were thankful to take shelter as a\nthunderstorm was raging. The farmer's wife was away, but he and two of\nhis brothers were at home. The farmer was a great student of the Bible,\nso he and I had a theological discussion under cover of the piano where\nWinifred and the brothers made music.\n\nAfter another day or two's visiting we started for Cereal, but lost our\nway and did not arrive until 10 p.m. Here, also, we took the names of\nseveral children for the Sunday School by Post. The next day we went to\nStimson, over a very bad trail. We addressed the children in the\nafternoon, had supper at a farm, and then held a service in the school,\nwith prayers, hymns, and address. The latter was given under\ndifficulties. Several small children came with their parents, and\nseveral dogs accompanied their masters. Presently one baby fell down and\nbegan to cry, whereupon all the other babies howled in sympathy and all\nthe dogs began to bark. I tried to make my voice heard above the din,\nbut Winifred came to the rescue by collecting children and dogs and\ntaking them all outside. Afterwards we discussed the best way to start a\nSunday School, and took names for the Sunday School by Post in case it\nproved impossible.\n\nWe started about 8 a.m. next morning for Alsask and Kindersley. We meant\nto go over a hundred miles that day. The trails were awful, however, and\npresently we came to a graded place which was all loose earth, and the\ncar skidded badly, running off the grade and sticking at an angle of 45\ndegrees. We unloaded, and when I got in again to drive it I had to hold\nfast to the wheel in order to keep my seat, the slope was so great. But\nI managed to get back to the trail. We reached Alsask about 2 p.m. and\nfound Mr. H. there, who wanted to be taken on to Kindersley. After five\nmiles the car stopped dead. On examination I found that the hub of a\nback wheel was broken in half. Just then two men came along in a car and\nsaid they were going to Alsask, so they took me and the wheel. While it\nwas being mended I bought some food to take back with me to the others,\nbut had to wait an hour or so till the men were ready to return. They\ntook me back to the caravan, and I put the wheel on again and we started\nonce more. But the car still went badly. Then we came to a steep hill\nnewly graded, which we could hardly get up. At last I found that I must\nput in new sparking plugs, a difficult job in the dark. Whilst I was\ndoing this Winifred had a splendid view of a distant electrical storm.\nIt was a magnificent sight to see the lightning flashes playing on a\nvast expanse of sky.\n\nThen we came to a nightmare of a road, very steeply graded and with\nloose hard clods about 3 feet deep on the top. These nearly knocked the\nbottom out of the engine, so I had to drive on the side at an incredible\nangle, expecting every moment to be overturned, though my companions\nwere steadying the van with might and main, the one hanging on to one\nside, and the other propping up on the other. Every now and then we had\nto stop and unload, or else we must have capsised. We arrived at\nKindersley about 2.30 a.m., and found Mr. and Mrs. W. still waiting up\nfor us with a splendid supper prepared, to which we did full justice.\nAbout four in the morning a tremendous thunderstorm came on. I woke up\nwith a start and suddenly remembered that I hadn't covered up the\nengine, so I scurried out to do so, otherwise my sparking plugs would\nhave been ruined and the whole of the engine flooded. The difficulty was\nto keep the tarpaulin on, as there was always a big wind. I made up my\nmind that another year the engine should have a proper mackintosh cover\nto clip on.\n\nWe could not start for another twelve hours because the trails were so\nheavy after the storm. The Chautauqua had reached Kindersley now. The\nbig brown tent was pitched just opposite the vicarage and I heard the\nsinging, but had no time to go to any of the lectures, unfortunately. We\ndid not leave for Rosetown till 4 p.m., but we arrived there at 9 p.m.,\na seventy mile run.\n\nThe next day (Sunday) we went on to Dinsmore, where the vicar lived whom\nwe had met before at Bounty. We had not been able to hear from him, but\nknew he expected us to take a Sunday School and address parents\nsomewhere in his district that afternoon. We started about noon, but\nlost our way, and when we inquired at a farm were wrongly directed, so\nwe did not get to Dinsmore till 2.30. Just as we were entering the town\nwe got on to a rough trail with a lot of big clods. A front wheel struck\none of these and badly bent the steering-rod, which made it very\ndifficult to steer the van, as it kept veering towards the left of the\ntrail all the time. When we reached the vicarage we found the vicar had\ngone, but I knew that he had a service at Surbiton on Sunday afternoons\nand so asked the way there. The caravan got more and more difficult to\nsteer. I tried to straighten the steering-rod with a tyre iron, but it\nwas not strong enough. Then we came to a creek where there had been a\nbad wash-out, and a board up across the trail said \"No road.\" But I\nnoticed that cars had been going over the creek a little to the right,\nwhich meant going down a hill like the side of a house, over the stream,\nand up an equally steep hill on the other side. One needs to steer\nparticularly well on these occasions, but I had to risk it and got\nacross somehow.\n\nAt last we arrived at the school-house at Surbiton, and singing told us\nthat service was going on. We crept in and found the room full; some of\nthe congregation were even sitting in the porch. The Sunday School was\nover, but I was asked to give an address to the people.\n\nThe vicar had to go on immediately to another service, but he had a\npuncture and no spare tube, so I lent him one of mine. He introduced us\nto the Sunday School superintendent and her husband. She was most\nanxious to learn anything about methods. All the children of every\ndenomination attended her school. She invited us to stop to supper, and\nit finally ended in our camping in their yard for nearly a week. We\nwanted to teach the children, so our host and hostess suggested that\nthey should be invited to a cricket match, and have a picture talk\nafterwards in the evening. They complained of the lack of organised\ngames for the children, a thing we had already noticed. Here and there a\nteacher would organise a base-ball team, and that was all. One felt how\ninvaluable it would be to have more Boy Scouts and Girl Guides. The\ndifficulty here lies in the lack of people for Guiders and\nScout-masters.\n\nThe cricket match could not take place till after school, then the\nchildren arrived in cars and buggies, and we had a splendid game. We\nplayed till it was too dark to see, and then had the Bible picture talk\nby the light of the moon and the headlights of the cars. The day-school\nmaster and the parents standing behind the children seemed just as\ninterested as the latter were.\n\n\n\n\n  CHAPTER XVI\n\n  AMONG THE PRAIRIE FARMS\n\n\nOur host and hostess were charming, cultured people. He and his\nbrothers, 'Varsity men, were farming in a little colony of their own. He\nwas a member of the Provincial Parliament, or Senate. Our hostess was a\ntrained nurse from St. Bartholomew's. She had been matron at a hospital\nin Rosetown, and she still helped in cases of illness whenever she had\ntime. She told us how badly nurses were needed on the prairie. She was\nalso President of the local Grain Growers' Association, which is similar\nto the Home-Makers' Club and the Women's Institutes--we got the latter\nidea from Canada. The chief aim of these associations is the selling of\nfarm produce and the general betterment of home and rural life. Our\nhostess was one of those who saw the need for a higher moral standard in\nthe country, and her Association had appealed to the Senate to that\neffect.\n\nThey were most kind and hospitable, and insisted on our having meals\nwith them. The farm hands sat at the same table--in this democratic\ncountry no longer below the salt. On several evenings I went with our\nhost and his children to play cricket at other farms, and I noticed that\nthe farm-hands and everyone else joined in the game.\n\nIt was very interesting to go round the farm and see all the wonderful\nlabour-saving devices. They had cut the hay and were getting it in. The\nterm \"wild and woolly West\" is said to have originated from the \"prairie\nwool,\" or natural hay, which is specially luxuriant on dried-up sloughs.\nIt is a grass with a fluffy, golden-brown plume. But this natural hay\ncan only be cut every other year, hence many farmers are sowing hay\nseeds as well. The wagon which they use for carting hay and wheat has\nenormously high rack-like sides. On this farm, when carting hay, an\nimmense canvas sheet with rings at the corners is put in the wagon and\nthe hay piled up on it. When a wagon-load reaches the barn, a rope\nattached to a pulley in the barn roof is put through the four rings of\nthe sheet, the horses are taken out of the shafts and harnessed to the\npulley-rope, and the whole load is swung up into the barn, along a rod,\nand on to the rick. The whole operation only takes three minutes. There\nwas a blacksmith's shop on this farm, and as some of the metal on my\nshock-absorber had broken, our host cut me a piece of metal, and I\nmended it with his assistance--a job which entailed lying under the car\nfor an hour with earth falling into one's eyes. The vicar was famous as\na \"fixer\" of broken-down Fords, and one day he came to the farm with his\nchildren to gather Saskatoon berries.[7] Whilst he was waiting for the\nparty to start, he and our host took out my steering-rod and\nstraightened it at the forge. As he put it back he eyed me solemnly and\nremarked: \"I suppose you know that your two lives depend on this rod.\"\n\nOne very hot night we were sleeping in the van with all the doors wide\nopen for the sake of coolness. I woke up suddenly to a tremendous clap\nof thunder with terrific forked lightning and a hurricane of wind, and\nhailstones the size of a hen's egg. I sprang up and pulled the\nwind-screen to and shut the side doors, and then woke up Winifred and\ntold her that we must hold on to the back doors for dear life. If once\nthe wind got in it would certainly overturn the van. How we got through\nthe next half-hour I cannot tell. There was no catch inside the back\ndoors, as we always bolted them from the outside, but so sudden and\nterrific was the storm that there was no time to run round and bolt\nthem. The wind would have swept you off your feet, and you might have\nbeen struck by the lightning. For the same reasons it was impossible to\nmake a dash for the farmhouse, and even if we had got there safely by\nany chance, the caravan would have been smashed to atoms as soon as an\nopen door gave entrance to the wind. The only thing to do was to hold\nthe back doors with our fingers in the chinks, though how we managed it\nI do not know. The alternative was to abandon the caravan and lie flat\non the ground, as one was advised to do in cyclones, but in this case we\nmight have been killed by lightning. All through that half-hour the van\nquivered like a live thing, and we expected every minute that it would\nbe blown away or broken in. I have never felt so near death. The storm\nlessened after a time, and then I bolted the back doors. In the morning\nwe found that the farmhouse had been nearly flooded by the torrential\nrain, a stream of water having poured through the house. They had looked\nout at us anxiously from time to time, but could no more reach us than\nwe could get to them when the storm was at its worst. Two great\nhay-wagons had been blown several yards into a fence, and we heard that\na shack eight miles off had been blown over, and the settler had had all\nhis limbs broken. We had often heard of these storms before. On one\noccasion such a storm burst upon a prairie school, smashing in the\nwindows. The young teacher gathered the children into the porch, where\nthey escaped injury. But when they returned to their homes most of them\nfound the shacks blown over and their parents killed. A neighbouring\nschool was entirely wrecked and the teacher and children killed.\n\nOn the Saturday, when the trails had dried up, we started for Birdview.\nWe were now entering the dried-out area again, but the sand-drifts had\nsunk a good deal and become more compact, so we managed to get the\ncaravan through, though she skidded a bit. We camped by the little\nprairie church, built miles away from any farm so that it might be in\nthe most central spot for each. Beside it stood the vicarage, a\none-roomed shack with a cellar beneath. There was also a good-sized\nparish hall and a stable for the parishioners' horses. This complete\nisolation has its perils. During the influenza epidemic in 1918 one of\nthe clergy lay here helpless for three days before anyone knew that he\nwas ill.\n\nWe stayed here for a week, having the place all to ourselves. We cleaned\nout the shack and had our meals in it, sleeping in the van. It was\nintensely hot, and we found the cellar a great boon for our butter, etc.\nThese cellars are a necessity on the prairie, keeping your food cool in\nsummer and your house warm in winter. Mrs. M., the farmer's wife who had\narranged for our visit here, used to bring us water and milk and eggs\nfrom her farm two miles away. The well at the shack was now very low.\nShe also drove us to visit a day-school teacher who had promised to\ncarry on the Sunday School if we started it. We held the school on\nSunday, and two prospective teachers listened. After school there was a\nmost excellent tea in the parish hall, provided by the parents who had\nbrought the children. Delightful _al fresco_ meals are a feature of\nprairie life. After tea we held a service in the church. We had made it\nas beautiful as possible, with golden rod in the altar vases. Members of\nthe Women's Auxiliary had cleaned it thoroughly for us. This service\nwill always remain in my memory. There were people of all ages present,\nand a large number of men, both middle-aged and young. Winifred played,\nand I read the service and gave the address. We had a shortened form of\nevensong. For the lessons I selected passages from the Gospels about our\nLord and the children. I also used some of the beautiful prayers written\nfor the Forward Movement--in particular, the one for a parish left\nwithout a clergyman. We chose well-loved hymns, such as \"Rock of Ages,\"\nfrom the Canadian hymn-book, which is beautifully called \"The Book of\nCommon Praise.\" It is the best collection of hymns which I have ever\nseen, including suitable ones for both children and adults. There is\nalso a Canadian prayer-book, some of the prayers being for the special\nneeds of the country, such as the prayer in time of drought. We used\nthis one at the service on behalf of this dried-out area.\n\nI spoke on the importance of religious education, building up my theme\nfrom the Gospel readings of the lessons. I tried to show how juvenile\ncrime had increased in countries which neglected the spiritual welfare\nof the children. I ended by reminding them that, just as they had chosen\na font for their War Memorial, so the children, properly trained, would\nbe a living memorial of those who had laid down their lives for\nChristian ideals. It was very easy to draw analogies between the\nspiritual life of the child and the growth of the wheat, which is so\neasily prevented by storms and drought from coming to its full\nperfection.\n\nAt the close of the service we went to the door to say good-bye to the\npeople. I was very touched to see that some of them were crying, no\ndoubt from memories which the old familiar hymns and prayers had brought\nto mind.\n\nThe next day we were invited to supper at a farm five miles off. On the\nway we had a feast of beauty from the flowers, which were especially\nglorious now. This is the native land of golden rod and Michaelmas\ndaisies. I have never seen such a variety of the latter--little white\nones growing low on the ground, little pale mauve ones, and great bushes\nof deep mauve and yellow ones. There were also perennial sunflowers with\nbeautiful dark centres, and fine erigerons. At last we arrived at the\nfarm. It was a melancholy sight, almost buried in sand, and the farmer\nwas leaving it. In spite of being very badly off they gave us a most\ndelicious supper--roast chicken and layer cake and fruit and tea. It was\nespecially welcome just then as I had been doing a lot of cooking that\nweek, so a meal which I had not prepared was a great treat. (This may be\ntaken in two ways.)\n\nThe next day we taught in the day school and enrolled some children for\nthe Sunday School by Post. Then we went on and paid several visits,\nfinishing up at Mrs. M.'s farm, where we had supper. It was wonderful to\nsee her small son, aged three or four, rounding up cattle mounted on a\ntall steed. This infant had already made our acquaintance, driving over\nto our shack all by himself to bring us eggs.\n\nOn Thursday we left for Swanson, nearly sticking in the sand more than\nonce. At last the sub-radius rod broke with our continual skidding, but\nI was able to get another at a hardware store on the way. We reached\nSwanson that night and camped by the church. Next day we went to see the\nfarmer's wife who had promised to get the people together to meet us.\nThe family consisted of Mrs. Z., a widow, her daughter, and two sons. As\nwe drove up we saw that the wheat was being cut. Some of the binders\nwere drawn by motor tractors and others by horses. After the tea-supper,\nwhich is the last meal of the day, Winifred went to the piano to play\nsongs for the girl. I noticed that the two brothers looked very tired\nafter their day's work, and guessed that they were waiting up for us as\nI had seen that our room led through another. At last in desperation\nthey went to bed, and we found them fast asleep when we went through.\nThis shack was in advance of many, as it had a door between the rooms\ninstead of a curtain, but the girl ingenuously suggested that as it was\na hot night we should leave the door open.\n\nThe next day we went out to help them stook the wheat. It was a\nbeautiful sight, the sky so very blue and the wheat so very golden. I\nfelt quite at home at this job, though one had to stook from a quarter\nto half a mile before turning, and the sheaves in the stooks were\nplaced in a circle instead of in our English way. Their aim is to keep\nout the sun and wind, which would dry the wheat too much, whereas ours,\nof course, is to let them in. They told us that a stooking machine had\nbeen invented, but it was not very satisfactory as yet. The wheat\nusually stands only a week in stook, and is then threshed on the field.\nThe rack (_i.e._, wagon) is accompanied by a loader (elevator) which\nshoots up the sheaves into the rack. When this is full it is driven to\nthe thresher. This differs from our English threshing machine. Instead\nof coming out in bundles, the straw is cut fine and blown out of a\nfunnel, accumulating in a heap on the ground. It is left there all\nwinter, being used either as fodder or as fuel. The grain pours down a\ngreat pipe into a wagon, instead of being put into bags as with us. The\nwagon is then driven off to the nearest \"depot,\" where there is always\nan elevator, as the tall buildings used for storing the wheat are called\nout here. The wagon drives into the building, where it is weighed with\nits freight. Then the wheat is tipped out and taken up to the store\nrooms above. From there it is shot down a pipe into railway trucks, and\nsent by train to Fort William on the Great Lakes. There it is cleaned\nand again stored in elevators, and then poured down a great pipe into\nthe grain boats which carry it down the Great Lakes. Then it goes by\ntrain to Montreal and Quebec, where there are even greater elevators,\nwhence it is sent all over the world.\n\nWe were told that this was the first good harvest in that district for\nfive years, which shows what a gamble prairie farming is. What with\ndrought and late frosts in spring, and hail and rain when the wheat is\nripe, the result must always be uncertain. The farmers are obliged to\nput all their eggs into one basket, as they cannot store a root crop in\nwinter owing to the intense frost. A daily paper, dated September, 1921,\nhas the following news from Montreal: \"Two feet of snow fell in the\ndistrict of Saskatchewan, causing much damage to crops and bringing the\nsnow-ploughs out. Drenching rains throughout the remainder of the\nprovince suspended harvesting and threshing. The storm is the worst for\n25 years.\"\n\nOf course I had put on my landworker's clothes to stook in, and to my\nsurprise this caused a great sensation. They had never seen a landworker\nin real life, only pictures of them in the _Sketch_ and the _Daily\nMirror_. They said the kindest things about British women war-workers.\n\n[Footnote 7: Something like wortleberries.]\n\n\n\n\n  CHAPTER XVII\n\n  BACK TO REGINA\n\n\nWe returned to Swanson that evening in order to be ready for Sunday.\nWhile we were hanging up pictures in the church two boys came in. We had\nalready met these two out in the harvest field, and had asked them to\ncome to Sunday School. One of them pointed to the cross on the altar,\nand asked, \"What's that?\" I found that he knew nothing about the Life of\nour Lord, so I showed him the picture of the Nativity, and from this and\nthe other pictures told him the sacred story. The other boy joined in at\nintervals, supplementing my remarks. I found that he knew the story\nquite well, and asked him how it was that he knew so much, and he\nexplained that he was a Roman Catholic. I told them that there would be\nSunday School on Sunday afternoon, and asked them to come, which they\ndid. (There was no Roman Catholic church in the place.) The children\nseemed to enjoy the school, and the teachers-to-be came to listen. A bad\nthunderstorm delayed us in beginning the service following, as the\npeople could not get there. But they arrived eventually, and seemed to\nthink the effort worth while. A few of the people from the Birdview\ndistrict, who had attended our service on the previous Sunday, were\namong the congregation.\n\nWe were given an early supper by kind Mrs. T., who had mothered us when\nwe were there before, and, thus fortified, started on our twenty-mile\ndrive to the ferry over the Saskatchewan River, where we camped. There\nwas another thunderstorm that night. I got up very early, and had an\nawful business cooking breakfast because of the raging wind. I had\ndetermined that on any future trips there should be a tin shield for the\nPrimus, as digging a trench was of little use.\n\nMeanwhile we heard that the ferry had not been running for several days,\nas the river had fallen and the sand had silted up. If I had known this\nsooner we might have crossed at Saskatoon, where there was a bridge, but\nwe were now a hundred miles or more away. It was necessary to cross\nwithout loss of time, because Winifred wanted to catch the train at\nOutlook on the following evening. She was obliged to get back to England\nby an earlier boat than I was taking, because the tour had been\nprolonged beyond the original date, owing to weather and other\ndifficulties.\n\nWhen we had got down the steep, slippery trail to the river I found that\nthe ferry-barge was not starting from the pier, but lower down stream\nwhere there was no pier, and between us and it was nothing but sand and\nmud and water in which the caravan would sink. There were two other cars\nwaiting to cross. Their owners had gone over to Outlook in the ferry to\nget a team of horses to pull them through. Just at this moment a wagon\nand two fine horses drove down to the river bank. We explained our\ndifficulty to the driver, and he offered to tow us on to the barge. The\nferry-boat had now returned, and the touring cars were towed on with\ndifficulty. The waggoner hitched us on to his wagon, and I asked\nWinifred to get out, as there was no reason why she should run the risk\nof being overturned. Then our wagon started, and I started the engine to\nhelp the horses, but this frightened them and they tried to bolt. The\nman shouted to me to switch off, which I did, but they still galloped on\nand seemed to be making straight for the river. Hitched on behind like\nthis I was helpless. But the man was a splendid whip, and he knew his\nhorses. He steadied them with his voice, and, getting them in hand,\nswung them sharply round and on to the barge, though still snorting and\nplunging in their fright. It was exceedingly difficult to steer the van\nround just at the right moment, but I managed it somehow. The barge men\n(our former friends) seemed to find it very hard work getting the\nheavily-laden boat across, with the wind against them. On the other side\nthere was no pier to land on, only mud and water as before, so the\nwaggoner offered to pull us ashore. His horses were really\nmagnificent--extraordinarily strong--for they pulled both the wagon and\nthe laden van through the sand and water, past the touring cars stuck in\nthe mud. The man refused to take any money for his services, though it\nwas usual to charge a dollar or so for pulling out cars, etc. But only\nonce in all our three months on the prairie, and with our numerous calls\nfor help, would any man take money for his services to us. I am sure\nthat our work was helped by our being women. Much more consideration was\nshown to us than would have been the case with men similarly situated.\nPerhaps this is because there are fewer women than men out there. The\nmen certainly seem to feel that they cannot do enough for them.\n\nI took the grass track up from the river, the same which I had used when\ncrossing the ferry before; but the van stuck at the top, so I had to\nunload, and then back down to the bottom and rush up again at full\nspeed. It was a very hot day and a weary task repacking the van. We\nbitterly regretted our refusal of the kind waggoner's offer to pull us\nup.\n\nI saw Winifred off by train, and then went on to Eyebrow, 96 miles. It\nwas rather fun trying to race Winifred's train, which I could see on the\ntrack a little ahead of me. I did nearly catch her at one station, but\nwas not quite quick enough. I was very grateful for all Winifred's help,\nand found it rather difficult to find my way without her, as she always\nheld the map. But I struck a green blazed trail after a time, and then\nfound my way quite easily. This trail fortunately avoided that bad\ncorner at Elbow, and the surface of all the trails was far better now\nthan when we came up. I arrived at Eyebrow about 5 p.m.\n\nThe next day Mr. T. took me to visit some parents, with whom we had\nmeals, and then on to Keelerville day-school, where I gave an address.\nI was surprised to find one little girl answering all my questions with\ngreat fluency, while the others sat in open-mouthed admiration. I said\nto myself, \"I'm sure you've been to the Qu'Appelle Diocesan School for\nGirls,\" as I had noticed the same phenomena in Sunday Schools in Regina,\nand my surmise proved to be correct.\n\nWe went out to supper, where we had the usual great bowl of boiled eggs,\nfrom which we helped ourselves, everyone being expected to eat at least\nthree. It was very dark on our return journey, and the headlights\nsometimes went very dim. I found it extremely pleasant to be driven for\nonce.\n\nI left Eyebrow on the Wednesday afternoon, and went on to Mortlack,\nabout 38 miles. I found my way all right, but had to go through a great\ndeal of sand. Fortunately I did not stick. The vicar and his wife gave\nme a very warm welcome when I arrived that evening. There were five\nsmall children and a young theological student in the house. The vicar\nhad been presented with a Ford caravan very much like mine, in which to\nget about his rural deanery. For everyday use he had a Ford car, and he\ntook me round the district in this. I taught in two schools and held a\nparents' meeting on the first day, and gave a picture talk and two\naddresses to parents and teachers on the next day. Indoors I helped the\nstudent with the household chores, which he had made part of his duty.\nThe vicar's wife had her hands full with the children. The latter were\ncharming people; they specially loved jumping in and out of the caravan.\nI secured temporary quietude by taking them down the town and presenting\nthem with \"all-day suckers.\" This protection of the Canadian parent is a\nlarge hard, brightly-coloured confection, stuck on a pointed stick,\nwhich forms a handle. As the name suggests, it is supposed to last all\nday. Another favourite comestible is chewing-gum. The children in their\nturn frequently presented me with both these dainties. But what I really\nliked were the delicious ice-creams and ice-cream sodas and sundaes.\nThose of the latter that one buys in England are but pale shadows of the\noriginal. The real, true sundae is a bowl of genuine ice-cream, on the\ntop of which is preserved fruit in rich syrup, with chopped nuts\nscattered over it.\n\nThis rural deanery received a great deal of support from the Colonial\nand Continental Church Society. They wanted me to stop at Mortlack over\nSunday, but I felt that I should never get all my affairs settled up in\nRegina before catching my boat unless I went on at once.\n\nSo I started off for Regina on the Saturday, and got there in the\nafternoon (70 miles). The trail was exceedingly bad, as they were newly\ngrading it, and in some places I had to get over mounds of loose earth\nabout four feet or more high. It was odd to find my watch an hour\ndifferent from the Regina clocks. The big towns have summer time, but\nthe C.P.R. and the country places keep to ordinary time.\n\nI had a very warm reception from the W. family, behind whose house I\nstored the caravan until I had time to clean it. The first thing to do\nwas to clean myself and my wardrobe. I looked more like a mechanic than\na Sunday School \"expert.\" I found oil on most of my clothes, and without\nMrs. W. should never have got them clean again. It was very nice not to\nhave to turn out in the morning and cook breakfast over a bad-tempered\nPrimus. Mrs. W.'s meals were not easily forgotten, and now they seemed\nextra good. The Canadian breakfast is a dream: you begin with grape\nfruit, and then come \"cereals,\" followed by eggs and bacon, and\nsometimes griddle cakes with maple syrup, or johnnie cakes.\n\nWhen I went to church on Sunday morning I had another kind reception,\nand the vicar insisted that I should give an address to the whole Sunday\nSchool in church that afternoon.\n\nNext day I went to see Archdeacon Dobie and Archdeacon Knowles, and had\na long talk with them, the gist of which I append later. I told them\nthat I wished to present the caravan to the diocese, that this work\nmight be carried on. Archdeacon Knowles offered to take charge of the\nvan and its equipment during the winter, promising that it should be\nstored in the Synod garage.\n\nThe caravan had covered at least 3,000 miles in just over three months.\nWe started from Regina on May 21 and got back on August 21. We visited\nten existing Sunday Schools and started four new ones; we also visited\ntwelve day schools and enrolled sixty children in the Sunday School by\nPost. Besides this we gave many Bible picture talks to children and\naddresses to parents and teachers, held a good many services in church,\nand did a lot of visiting.\n\n\n\n\n  CHAPTER XVIII\n\n  AN INDIAN RESERVE\n\n\nI felt that I could not leave Canada without seeing an Indian Reserve. I\nhad met Miss A., the headmistress of the Christian boarding school at\nPunnichy, so I wrote to her asking if I might pay a flying visit to the\nReserve, and received a warm invitation. I left Regina at 9.30 p.m. and\ndid not arrive at Punnichy till next morning at 6.30. I travelled with a\nlarge number of Doukhobors, extraordinary people who talk a most curious\nlanguage. They come from southern Russia, and are a religious sect. They\nlive in communities, having everything in common, even wives. The women\nwear picturesque clothes--a coloured handkerchief over their heads and\nanother over their shoulders, with a very full short skirt. I noticed\nthat the train inspector seemed uneasy at my being in their compartment,\nand soon moved me to another one. But I had to remain an hour with them\nin the waiting-room at Saskatchewan, and they seemed quite harmless and\nwere interesting to watch.\n\nI was met by a Mrs. T., who drove me in her own car up to the Reserve. I\nfound that she had nursed in France during the War, had had shell shock,\nand had received the Royal Red Cross. Her husband was the headmaster of\nthe day school on the Reserve. She had found that the Indians were\nwithout a nurse of any kind, and so she was giving her services in that\ncapacity and had her hands full. She had even bought a car in order to\nget round the Reserve. There was a great deal of sickness, the Indians\nbeing very tubercular now, and there was much infant mortality. Mrs. T.\nsaid that she badly needed another nurse to help her. She was then on\nher way to the school to help the doctor operate on a good many children\nfor adenoids and tonsils, but it would be a case of \"first catch your\nhare,\" as the patients always fled into the bush on these occasions.\n\nMiss A. and her father, the chaplain on the Reserve, received me very\nkindly. After breakfast I was asked to give the children a Scripture\nlesson. They were bright, attractive children, but not nearly so quick\nas the British children. They knew a great deal, however, having been\nwell taught. It seemed very sad that our British children had been so\nneglected that they knew less about the Bible than these Indian children\ndid. I bought some of the beautiful moccasins and bead chains which they\nmake on the Reserve. The mother of one of the pupils had made the\nBishop's mitre all out of beads.\n\nOutside the school-house there was a poor little boy lying on a\nmattress, the other children entertaining him with picture books. I\nasked what was the matter with him, and was told that he had broken his\nleg and the witch-doctors had essayed to cure it, doing him great harm.\nBut he was now getting well under proper supervision. We had meals with\nthe Indian children, in a nice family way. They talked good English, of\ncourse, having been in the school for several years. The _raison d'etre_\nof the boarding school is to give the children a good standard of\nliving. When they attend a day school they have to live at home in the\ndirty hovels, which undoes much of the civilising influence they have\nreceived. When they are old enough the boys are trained to work on the\nschool farm, under the management of Mr. A. I was shown the beautiful\nlittle church, but was saddened to see the many little wooden crosses\nmarking the babies' graves. We saw some fine Indian men, looking quaint\nwith their long braided hair and big shady hats. They are being trained\nto farm work, at which they prove most efficient. I should have liked\nto have seen the Indian warriors in war paint, but this is seldom\nallowed by the Government now as it is found to have such an exciting\neffect on them. There had been a display of the Hudson Bay Company at\nWinnipeg in the May of that year, but I was not able to go.\n\nThere was something singularly tragic in the sight of these people,\ndisinherited, and suffering from diseases which they never knew in their\nold free life. It is one of those great injustices for which there seems\nto be no remedy.\n\nI remained for evening prayer, and was asked by Mr. A. to give the\naddress. I told the story of St. Christopher, which seemed to be much\nappreciated. Then I caught a night train and got back to Regina next\nmorning.\n\n\n\n\n  CHAPTER XIX\n\n  HEADED FOR HOME\n\n\nOn my return from Punnichy I went to see the Bishop and Mrs. Harding,\nand described our caravan tour. His lordship said that my account only\nemphasised his previous conviction that work among the children was of\nvital importance, and he hoped I would come back in the following spring\nto carry it on. I explained that I had my diocesan work in England, and\nhad only six months' leave of absence, and was even now hurrying back to\ntake a Teachers' Training Course.\n\nI had plenty to do during the next few days. I had sent home to England\nfor a good many books and pictures, and these now had to be done up and\nsent off to the different places we had visited on the prairie. A\ndecidedly arduous task, too, was the cleaning of the caravan, to which a\ngood deal of the trail still clung. I spent strenuous hours with a hose\nand brush, cleaning it inside and out. A hole had been knocked in the\ncomposition boarding of the door, and I racked my brains to think of a\nway to mend it. Then I remembered the paper pulp with which we make\nraised maps. This did splendidly and hardened well. Then there were all\nthe books and pictures and models to catalogue and store for the winter,\nready for those who should take the van out next spring.\n\nI had told the garage to fetch the caravan and take the engine down and\nclean and overhaul it, but as they did not send for it I took it round\nmyself on the Monday and said that it must be done by the Thursday, as I\nhad to leave for England. When I went next day they had merely taken\ndown a little bit of the engine. They did not get to work on it properly\ntill the Wednesday, which was very annoying, as I wished to have the\nback springs strengthened, a long job, and one which I meant to see\nthoroughly done. I spent Thursday running to and fro between the garage\nand the parish hall (where many of my things were stored). I had to\ncatch an early train in the morning, and so told a porter overnight to\nfetch my cases and boxes from the parish hall. After supper I went round\nto the garage again to see if the van was finished. It wasn't. I knew\nthat if I left it the mechanics would go off to some other car, and not\nonly would my van certainly not be done in the morning, but quite\npossibly it would never be properly done at all, and when used next year\nmight break down at a critical moment. I therefore determined to stay\nand see it finished. I knew the garage was open all night, with a\nspecial set of mechanics for night duty. Hour after hour passed. I stood\naround by the van and handed tools from time to time, and pointed out\nwhat I wanted done, and by thus keeping them at it the van was actually\nfinished soon after 7 a.m. I rushed off with it to the W.'s, and Mrs. W.\nand I packed all the equipment in it as fast as we could. Then I hurried\nup to the Synod garage, taking a man with me to remove the electric\nstarter, which would freeze if left in all winter. As I flew along I\nthought wistfully of the splendid breakfast which kind Mrs. W. had\nprepared and which I had no time to eat. I handed over the car and keys,\ngot another car to take me to the station, and just managed to catch the\ntrain. There was no time to feel sentimental over bidding farewell to my\nbeloved \"Tin Lizzie,\" who had done such wonders for us. Several friends\ncame to see me off, but my cases from the parish hall only appeared on\nthe platform as the train steamed out of the station, and it was months\nbefore I saw them again.\n\nI went by train to Fort William, on Lake Superior, then by the Great\nLakes and down the St. Lawrence River. Lake Superior is a huge inland\nsea, into which you could drop England. On Sunday morning we reached the\neasterly end of the lake, where the great locks are between Lake\nSuperior and Lake Huron. We stopped at Sault St. Marie for several\nhours, and some of us went ashore to church. I hunted about for an\nAnglican church, and seeing one with a cross on it made for it; but it\nwas a Roman Catholic church, and was packed to the doors. Next I found a\nPresbyterian church, and at last found an Anglican one, which I\nafterwards discovered was the pro-cathedral. The Archbishop of Algoma\nwas preaching on the Lambeth Conference, from which he had just\nreturned. I had to leave before the end of the service lest the boat\nshould go without me. We started again at one o'clock, and went down\nLake Huron and through the Georgian Bay and past the Ten Thousand\nIslands. It was very beautiful. We arrived at Fort McNicholl at 8 a.m.\non Monday. I then went by train to Toronto, and thence took a steamer\ndown Lake Ontario. It was a grey day, but the scenery was lovely, and\nthe waves quite rough, like the sea. We passed into the St. Lawrence at\nnight, and on the Tuesday morning began to pass the Thousand Islands,\nsome of which are disfigured by enormous houses, which look too big for\nthe island. At Prescott we changed into a tiny steamer called _The Queen\nof the Rapids_, and went on down the river, soon coming to the first of\nthe rapids, which the steamer shot. There is a drop of three hundred\nfeet between Prescott and Montreal. The biggest rapid is the Lachine\nRapid, with a fall of eighty-five feet. These rapids have always been\nshot by the Indians in their canoes, and now one always comes on board\nto pilot the steamer down. The river here is far wider than the Thames\nat London, and the rapids form a foaming bar from side to side, through\nwhich there is only one narrow channel. As we rushed through we were\nsuddenly aware that the walls of water close on either side were veiling\nrocks, between which the boat passed with only a few inches to spare. We\nwent three miles in one and a half minutes. In 1921 the rudder chain\nbroke when the steamer was shooting the rapids. The boat dashed on the\nrocks and had a hole knocked in it, but the passengers managed to reach\nan island and were all saved.\n\nWe arrived at Montreal that night, whence I went on to Quebec by train,\nthe _Empress of France_ being too big to get up the river. I arrived at\nQuebec in the cold early morning, and spent the day hunting up my\nluggage, but finding very little of it. I found time, however, to go up\nto the Heights of Abraham, whence I had a magnificent view right over\nthe harbour. Both here and at Fort William the gigantic elevators were a\nstriking sight, and I could also see a lot of lumber floating in Quebec\nharbour.\n\nQuebec is a strangely old-world town, noticeably so after the very\nmodern West. I went into a shoemaker's shop to get a shoe mended, but\nhad to make my wants known chiefly by signs, as the man spoke a queer\nold French and knew no English.\n\nThis journey down through the Great Lakes and the St. Lawrence is so\nexceedingly beautiful that it is a pity more people do not take it. But\nit is only possible in the summer months. After October the lakes are\ntoo rough, and in winter the St. Lawrence is blocked by ice.\n\nAs we steamed out of Quebec the Heights of Abraham looked very fine with\nthe sunset behind them. We went by the northern passage, between\nLabrador and Newfoundland. At night the Northern Lights lit up the sky\nfor two or three hours together, and just here we had to go slowly for\nfear of sunken icebergs.\n\nWe got to Liverpool on September 15, but though we arrived at 4 p.m., we\ndid not get off the boat till 7.30 p.m., as a White Star liner was at\nthe landing-stage, so I did not get home till next morning.\n\n\n\n\n  CHAPTER XX\n\n  SOME PRESENT-DAY NEEDS OF THE PRAIRIE\n\n\nIn the interview which I was granted with Archdeacon Knowles and\nArchdeacon Dobie before leaving Regina, I tried to explain my conviction\nthat the future of the Anglican Church on the prairie depended on the\ntraining of the children. If they remained as ignorant of religion as we\nfound them in many places, it was obvious that their generation would\nhave no use for the Church. On the other hand, they were now in an\nintensely receptive state, and the parents were more than willing that\nthey should receive instruction, and had supported us by every means in\ntheir power, both by promising to carry on our work and by giving us\nmost generous hospitality. Experience had proved that a caravan was the\nbest means of reaching these outlying districts, first because they were\noften so far from the railway, and also because there was no\naccommodation for women visitors in most of the shacks.\n\nWhen I offered my van to the diocese, Archdeacon Knowles suggested that\nI should leave suggestions for its future use. Those I made were as\nfollows: (1) That in the spring, summer, and fall, a Sunday School\nexpert should use the van on the prairie, starting Sunday Schools,\nvisiting the farms and day schools, giving Bible lessons in school\nhours, if allowed by the trustees, if not, after school hours; taking\nnames for the Sunday School by Post; helping the existing Sunday\nSchools, teachers, and clergy. (2) That the expert must be a person\nfully trained for the work, either at St. Christopher's, Blackheath,\nLondon, or in any similar institution which might be started in Canada.\n(3) The expert must be accompanied by someone who has driven a car for\nat least a year, and done her own running repairs. She should be able to\ncook, and willing to teach a class under the direction of the expert.\n(4) Concerning the finance: the travelling expenses of the workers,\ntheir board, and the running expenses of the caravan should be raised in\nEngland until the diocese is able to support them. If possible, a salary\nshould be provided, but, failing this, honorary workers might be found.\n\nArchdeacon Dobie read me a report which he had just received from two of\nthe Mission clergy who had gone out in the other Ford caravan. They had\ndone between two and three thousand miles already, and I afterwards\nheard that by the end of the season they had gone 6,000 miles and\nbaptized 101 children. It was interesting to note where their report\ncorroborated ours. They spoke of the spiritual desolation of the people,\nwho asked them if the Church would only send clergy where a stipend\ncould be guaranteed. They remarked on the eagerness of the children to\nlearn, their intense appreciation of the sacraments and services, and\nthe pathetic ignorance of the children and young people, many of whom\nhad never been to a service before. The bad effects of this isolation\nand lack of education were very noticeable, they said. One of the\nclergy, in his report, spoke of the people \"disappointed of their hope\nyear after year, cut off from the Church--the glory and joy of which\nseparation has deepened--there is little wonder at times they are almost\non the verge of insanity.\" He adds: \"If only some lover of Christ and of\nthe British Empire would provide for two such vans to run for a few more\nyears until the tide turns and the country develops, much might be done\nto save the children of the prairie and to foster a spirit of loyalty to\nthe Mother Country.\"\n\nThese Mission clergy seemed to feel, as we had done, that the time for\nseizing these wonderful opportunities is now or never. The worship of\nthe almighty dollar may easily take the place of true religion unless\nthis present hunger for spiritual things is satisfied. It would be a\nserious reflection on the Anglican Church if she should let this golden\nopportunity pass.\n\nSome time after I had returned to England I received a letter from a man\nat Stimson (which the Railway Mission used to work from Youngstown),\nsaying, \"Why don't they send us a clergyman? Once a fortnight a service\nis held here by howling dervishes, calling themselves Nazarenes, instead\nof our dear old Church of England services.\" In one of the prairie towns\nI saw the Holy Rollers' tent erected, and should like to have attended\none of their meetings just to see what they are like; but as I was doing\nAnglican Mission work, I feared it might create a wrong impression. I\nreceived a description of the meeting from an eye-witness, however. The\norder of procedure is as follows: The preacher gets up and begins to\nspeak in excited tones, gradually working himself up into a frenzy and\nbecoming unintelligible. This is contagious, and the audience soon\nbecome frenzied also, finally rolling about the floor--hence the name by\nwhich the sect is known. When the people are in this ecstatic state they\nare persuaded to sign cheques for large amounts. The Holy Rollers will\nnot come to a town unless a considerable sum is first guaranteed, and\nthis peculiarity of theirs adds point to the settlers' query with regard\nto the Anglican clergy. It is dreadful to think of the sheep being left\nto these hirelings.\n\nA matter of grave import had come under my notice on the prairie, and I\nfelt it to be my duty to speak of it to those who were working for the\nwelfare of the province. The lack of a high spiritual standard, with its\nconsequent elevated moral tone, is having a gravely deleterious effect\non the children's morality, proving a serious menace to the health of\nthe community on which the welfare of this new country depends. On this\npoint I was strongly supported by the wife of one of the members of the\nSenate, herself a trained nurse, who had lived for many years on the\nprairie, and also by an experienced clergyman and a Sunday School\nsuperintendent. All three gave me permission to use their names if\nnecessary, and promised to supply corroborative details. They lived in\nwidely separated districts, thus making their combined evidence of more\nvalue. Whilst in Regina, therefore, I reported to the presidents or\nsecretaries of the following: The Local Council of Women, The Women\nGrain-Growers' Association, The Women Home-makers' Club, and the Social\nService Council, all of which organisations work throughout the\nprovince, and are interdenominational.\n\nThe secretary of the Social Service Council asked me to give a report of\nour work on the prairie to the Interdenominational Sunday School Council\nfor the province. I was very glad to be present at this council, because\nI learnt so much. We discussed methods and organisation, not doctrine.\nIt was most interesting to hear about the camps and clubs which they\nhold for adolescent boys and girls. When I gave an account of our\ncaravan tour I took the opportunity of drawing attention to the moral\nquestion, and emphasised my belief that on this matter all the Churches\nshould co-operate.\n\nI sent a report of my work to Dr. Hiltz, which he read to the Executive\nCommittee of the Board of Religious Education. They were good enough to\nshow interest in the matter, and suggested that the Western Field\nSecretary should inquire what the diocese of Qu'Appelle thought of the\nscheme, and if the report were favourable he should try to develop the\nscheme in other Western dioceses.\n\nMeanwhile Miss Margaret West, who had been trained at St. Christopher's\nand had been working in the diocese of Ottawa, became Diocesan Field\nSupervisor for Qu'Appelle. She lectured and gave demonstration lessons\nin Regina, and acted as secretary for the Sunday School by Post. When I\nsuggested it, she expressed herself as quite ready to go out on the\nprairie in the spring of 1921, but she could not drive the caravan. I\ninquired of the Red Cross and St. John Ambulance in Canada if there were\nany ex-service girls who could drive caravans, and they replied that\nvery few had volunteered to drive in France, and those who had done so\nwere now dispersed and could not be communicated with. I then applied to\nvarious organisations in touch with ex-service women, and received a\nlist of women who had driven motor ambulances or transports in France,\nbut all of them wanted their expenses paid and most of them needed a\nsmall salary. There was no fund as yet, but through the \"Recruiting\nCommittee for Service in the Kingdom of God\" I was fortunate in finding\nan honorary worker, who would pay all her own expenses. This was Miss\nHigginbotham, who had driven a car for years, and had also driven a Ford\nin France for the Y.M.C.A. and the Church Army, as well as doing canteen\nwork.\n\nMiss Higginbotham joined Miss West in the spring of 1921, taking out\nwith her a large number of books and several thousand pictures which I\nwas sending for distribution. They arranged to visit a very large\ndistrict, comprising many more places than we had visited. At the end of\nthe season Miss West wrote: \"I have about 200 members collected this\nyear for the Sunday School by Post . . . the children need the A.B.C. of\nthe Faith . . . they are astonishingly ignorant but very nice to teach,\nso appreciative of one's efforts and so ready to learn . . . I enjoyed\nthe summer very much--the people were very kind.\" They had many\nadventures similar to ours in mud holes and thunderstorms, and also\nreceived similar kindness and hospitality. In the _Bishop's Leaflet_ for\nthe diocese of Qu'Appelle (December, 1921) a summary of their work is\ngiven, which ends thus:\n\n\"What are the results of this itinerary? The Diocesan Field Supervisor\nhas gained an intimate knowledge of the needs and difficulties of the\nprairie town Sunday Schools and has got into touch with many of the\nteachers, so that she is now in a better position to give assistance.\nAlso nearly 200 boys and girls living in districts where there is no\nChurch of England Sunday School have been enrolled in the Sunday School\nby Post and are now receiving regular instruction in the Faith of the\nChurch.\"\n\nIn a letter dated April 26, 1921, Dr. Hiltz gave us the following\nencouragement: \"At the meeting of the Executive Committee held last\nFriday I read extracts of your latest letter telling of the plans for\n1921. The Committee was very much interested, and I have much pleasure\nin forwarding to you the enclosed resolution, which will give you some\nidea of the attitude of our Executive towards the work which has been\ndone.\" The resolution was as follows: \"That this Committee desires to\nexpress its great appreciation of the work done in the diocese of\nQu'Appelle by Miss Hasell and Miss Ticehurst during the summer of 1920,\nand rejoices to learn that the work is to be continued during the summer\nof 1921 by Miss West and Miss Higginbotham. The Committee thanks these\nladies for their great help, and commends their spirit and\nself-sacrifice for the emulation of the whole Church.\"\n\nDr. Hiltz added that he was calling the attention of the General Synod\nto the caravan plan. (The General Synod consists of the four\nArchbishops, all the bishops and clergy, and certain representative\nlaymen from each diocese of the Dominion.)\n\nThe following extracts are from the Minutes of the Annual Meeting of the\nGeneral Board of Religious Education of the Church of England in Canada,\nOctober, 1921.\n\nFrom the Report of the General Secretary:\n\n    \"_Diocesan Conference and Synods._--A feature of all the\n    conferences and synods attended, was the outspoken conviction of\n    the Bishops and officers of the dioceses of the urgent necessity\n    for the immediate increase of effort in the training of the\n    children of the Church in the Faith of their fathers. The Bishop\n    of New Westminster . . . cited the fact that communistic leaders\n    in Great Britain and Europe recognised the strategic importance\n    of influencing the young, and had established Sunday Schools for\n    propagating their doctrines. The Bishop urged that the Church\n    must not be less alive to a great basal principle.\n\n    \"Without doubt, the present is a critical period in the life of\n    our Church in the West. The great dearth of clergy has left many\n    parishes, formerly occupied, without Sunday Schools or any other\n    Church organisation. The Church of the future, in the country\n    districts of the West, will be the Church that will now go into\n    these fields and train and enfold the young.\"\n\n    \"_The Caravan Plan._--The Executive Committee asked for a\n    report on the use of the caravan for religious educational work\n    in the prairie dioceses. There can be no question that the van\n    can be used to accomplish great results. . . . The van idea is\n    rapidly gaining ground. Qu'Appelle Diocese has three vans at\n    work, one of which is for purposes of religious education alone.\n    Saskatchewan Diocese secured a fine new van this year, which is\n    being operated for general missionary work. From experience this\n    summer, the Field Secretary is prepared to recommend its use to\n    every diocese that may be prepared to man and use it in\n    scattered missionary districts.\n\n    \"A van or motor-car, under the direction of the Field Secretary,\n    could be utilised to good purpose in our work. Two competent\n    lady-workers in Calgary volunteered for field work during July,\n    but we had no means of sending them out. A motor could have been\n    used steadily during August, and it could be sent on special\n    missions into other dioceses.\"\n\nFrom the Report of the Executive Committee:\n\n    \"_The Caravan Plan for Reaching Sparsely-Settled\n    Districts._--Following up the suggestions of the Board at its\n    last meeting, the General Secretary communicated with several\n    persons in the Diocese of Qu'Appelle, with a view to finding out\n    how far, in their judgment, the Caravan Plan, as used by Miss\n    Hasell and Miss Ticehurst, had proved successful.\n\n    \"The consensus of opinion was that the results were good, but\n    could only be made permanent by a regular system of\n    visitations. . . .\n\n    \"The Western Field Secretary has had an opportunity during the\n    summer to investigate this work, and has been doing some\n    experimenting in the Diocese of Calgary. The Diocese of\n    Qu'Appelle also tried out the plan again this past summer under\n    the direction of Miss West.\n\n    \"As a result of the investigations of the Field Secretary, he\n    recommends that the plan be adopted in every diocese that is\n    prepared to man and use the van properly in scattered missionary\n    districts.\"\n\nFrom the Report of the Parochial Department, under the heading, _Council\non Rural Schools_: \"In one Western diocese the Sunday School caravan\nsimilar to the mission van has proved of great value to the work of\nrural schools.\"\n\nFrom the above it will be seen that the caravan scheme supplies a felt\nneed, and as ex-students of St. Christopher's and ex-service girls have\nvolunteered, the only hindrance is lack of funds.[8]\n\nAs showing the approval which this work has received from the Church's\nrepresentatives, I may add that the Bishops of Saskatchewan and Calgary\nhave both invited me to work a van in their dioceses in 1922.\n\nIt was a bitter disappointment to me to be unable to talk over the\nresults of our work with Aylmer Bosanquet, for it was she who originated\nthe scheme, and she would have delighted in the details of its working.\nBut she was in British Columbia when I returned from the prairie, so all\nI could do was to write her a full report, and keep her in touch with\nall the developments of the work. She soon grew too weak to write\nherself, but her interest never flagged, and she dictated most\nencouraging and stimulating letters. She passed away on Shrove Tuesday,\nFebruary, 1921.\n\nShe was a true missionary, with a gracious and loving personality. She\nhad a definite call and followed it. This led her to exchange a life of\nluxury for one of hardship, and to expend much of her wealth in the\nservice of God. She laboured unceasingly, and with a vision which seemed\nto leave a living impress on all with whom she came in contact, and\ninspired them to greater heights of devotion and service. As the lessons\nof childhood are indelibly engraven on the mind, there must be many\nprairie children who will bless her name in after life for the imprint\nshe left upon them. She had a statesmanlike grasp of the trend of\nevents, and lived to do a wonderful work in Western Canada, pointing to\nlofty ideals and raising the standard of public opinion in this young\nand growing country, not only from the Church point of view, but also\nfrom the Imperial standpoint.\n\nShe has been one of the glorious instruments used in helping to bring\nabout God's purpose, that \"the earth shall be filled with the glory of\nGod as the waters cover the sea.\"\n\n[Footnote 8: See Appendix IV.]\n\n\n\n\n  APPENDIX\n\n\n  I.\n\nThe Fellowship of the Maple Leaf was started under the directorship of\nDr. G. E. Lloyd[9] in order to remedy the great shortage of teachers in\nWestern Canada. It aims at enlisting Englishwomen who are not merely\ntaking up teaching as a livelihood, but who are \"willing to do something\nbeyond what they are paid to do, for the sake of Church and Empire.\"\nTheir object is the building up of character and the development of\nloyalty to the Empire, and they are to go specially to the prairie\nschools among the foreign population (now called the New Canadians),\nmany of whom cannot speak English. The problem is--What can be done to\nmake the un-English settlers British in sentiment? Wherever immigration\nspreads over the new territory, there, in two or three years' time,\nappear the little country schools, built by the settlers out of the\nrates and taxes, or from bonds guaranteed by the Provincial Government.\nAll the children of the district, from four miles on either side, go to\nthat school. In Saskatchewan alone three hundred new schools were built\nin 1915, five hundred the year before, and more than six hundred in the\nyear before the War. Not only do these hundreds of new schools need\nteachers, but there is a continual thinning of the ranks as teachers go\non to other professions or the women teachers marry. Many of the\nleading men in Canada have taught in these little one-teacher schools at\nthe beginning of their career--such men as Sir Robert Bordon, Sir\nWilfrid Laurier, Sir Sam Hughes, and Sir George Forster.\n\nThe demand for teachers in these schools is so great that very many\nnon-British persons are accepted, and it is, to say the least, very\nunlikely that such persons can or will train these young British\nsubjects as Britain would have them trained. It follows that there is\nhere a magnificent opportunity for patriotic young Englishwomen. They\nwould also be able to help the children of those isolated Anglicans who\nhave no resident clergyman, as well as the mixed populations of\n\"anybody's people.\" Of course, no Church of England doctrine or any\nother doctrine may be taught in the day schools. These are Government\nschools, and every religion has an equal right there. But much may be\ndone out of school hours.\n\nAnyone can be a teacher who can pass the Government test and who takes a\nshort \"Method\" course in the Normal School. If she has any practical\nexperience of teaching she may obtain a \"Provisional Certificate,\" and\nbegin to teach at once, taking the Method Course later on when the\nprairie schools are closed in winter. The teachers are paid a fair\nsalary. The lowest is about L14 a month, ranging up to L45 in the towns\nfor head teachers. The higher stipends, of course, are for those who\nmake teaching their life-work. Any further particulars may be obtained\nfrom the Rev. P. J. Andrews, Secretary, The Fellowship of the Maple\nLeaf, 13, Victoria Street, Westminster, S.W. 1.\n\n\n  II.\n\nThe present hospital arrangements in the prairie provinces are as\nfollows: The Regina Railway Mission started hospitals in a few of the\nlittle towns where they had established missions, and some of the\nmunicipal councils took up the matter and opened a great many more. But\nthere are no free hospitals in the West. A patient's expenses are about\n22s. a day (five or six dollars), which makes a hospital prohibitive\nfor most. Many farms are miles away from any sort of medical or surgical\nattendance, and as the farmer's wife has generally no one to help her\nwith her house and children, she can seldom, if ever, go away into\nhospital for her confinements, and at these times often has no one with\nher except her husband. Of course, all goes well sometimes, but it is\nobvious that child and mother must suffer should complications arise. I\nmet a great many farmers' wives in outlying districts whose health had\nbeen ruined through lack of skilled attention at these critical times.\n\nThere is a splendid opening here for ex-V.A.D.'s. The Social Service\nCouncil of Saskatchewan is offering free training in a municipal\nhospital to any V.A.D., after which she would go out to the farms as a\nnursing housekeeper, her work being to give the mother professional\nattention and to keep the home running while she is laid up. She would\nneed some knowledge of the domestic arts, such as washing and cooking.\nHer work would be similar to that of a village district nurse in\nEngland, only she would have but one family under her care at a time. It\nshould be added that the father of a family helps a great deal in the\nhouse. These nursing housekeepers would be paid $17 to $20 per week,\njust half the salary of a graduate nurse. Thus they would be earning a\ngood income and at the same time doing a noble work. In this new country\nthe health of the mothers and children is of supreme importance.\n\nApplications for further particulars about nursing housekeepers may be\nmade to the following secretaries for Social Service: Mr. W. J. Stewart\nand Mr. W. P. Reckie, 45, Canada Life Building, Regina, Saskatchewan,\nWestern Canada.\n\n\n  III.\n\nThe Women's Auxiliary is the women's branch of the Anglican Church\nMissionary Society for Canada. There are members in every district, and\nthey work magnificently for the cause, raising enormous sums of money.\nOne place, which had only three members, made about $300 in the year\n(about L60 or L70). They get money by sewing meetings, teas, and social\ngatherings. The money is used first for the parish, to build or furnish\nthe vicarage house, and supply church furnishings, etc., and then to\nhelp the work among non-Christians, both in Canada and overseas.\n\n\n  IV.\n\nThe cost of a caravan is L316 ($1,250); running expenses, L40 ($160);\npassage out and travelling expenses, about L50, but for ex-service\ngirls, who can get a free passage, L29; board and lodging on the prairie\nfor five or six months, about L40; board and lodging in Regina, between\nL3 and L4 a week ($15). Donations may be made payable to Miss Eva\nHasell, Canada Mission Account, London, City, and Midland Bank, Penrith,\nCumberland. A sum of more than L300 has already been contributed.\n\n[Footnote 9: Now Bishop of Saskatchewan.]\n\n\n  PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY\n  BILLING AND SONS, LTD., GUILDFORD AND ESHER\n\n\n  =Transcriber's Notes:=\n  original hyphenation, spelling and grammar have been preserved as in\n    the original\n  Page 36, \"hers a mystery\" changed to \"hers is a mystery\"\n  Page 61, \"The Canadian casualities\" changed to \"The Canadian casualties\"\n  Page 62, \"sand drift near\" changed to \"sand-drift near\"\n  Page 62, \"3,000 miles\" changed to \"3,000 square miles\"\n  Page 90, \"Michaelmas daises\" changed to \"Michaelmas daisies\"\n  Page 114, \"here for ex-V.A.D's\" changed to \"here for ex-V.A.D.'s\"","title":"Across the Prairie in a Motor Caravan: A 3,000 Mile Tour by Two Englishwomen on Behalf of Religious Education","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":43858}