Trains of Recollection: Drawn from Fifty Years of Railway Service in Scotland and Canada, and told to Arthur HawkesHanna, D. B. (David Blyth)
History
Trains of Recollection: Drawn from Fifty Years of Railway Service in Scotland and Canada, and told to Arthur Hawkes
Hanna, D. B. (David Blyth)
Canadian National Railways; Railroads -- Canada; Railroads -- Scotland
Scarcely more than ten per cent. of the six hundred brigade made good
on their homesteads. I spent many weeks one summer, after the railway
had received a receiver, among the farmers around Saltcoats, trying
to find customers for the lands which had fallen in to us, since the
patents were granted, and the homesteads forsaken. In some cases we
were glad to get a hundred and sixty dollars for land, improvements
and all. If I confessed all the truth it might be not so very far
removed from a story of the land-poor epoch in Minnesota, which
assuredly is an opulent state of the Union to-day.
A farmer drove into a prairie town down there--Marshall, I
think--with a calf for which he was seeking milk. Asked how he
reached such a fix he said:
“Well, a stranger came to my place with this calf and wanted milk for
it. We had none; so he asked me if I would trade something for the
calf. I said ‘No’, but he was so cussed persistent that at last I
told him the only thing I could trade for the calf was a section of
land. He wouldn’t have it; but was willing to take half a section.
Finally I accepted his terms. But I got ahead of him, after all; for
when we came to make out the papers I found the sucker couldn’t read!
and I’ve landed the whole durn section on him.”
One farmer whom I visited was an old naval man. He was literally a
sailor on horseback. He was just starting out on his horse to round
up his solitary cow. He would buy no more land; and, indeed, declared
he would leave the country if only he could get out. “This is no
country for a reasonable man,” he complained, “when you have to go
eight hundred miles for cordwood.”
“That can’t be so,” I retorted, looking eastward towards the
Porcupine Hills clothed with timber and abounding with game.
“I’ll prove it to you,” was the answer. “I have to go twenty miles
for firewood, don’t I? That’s forty miles, there and back, for a
load. It takes twenty loads to keep us warm one winter. Twenty times
forty miles is eight hundred. Now, am I right?”
Lest it be thought that these depleting conditions applied only
to the territory of feeble branch railways like ours, look at a
few other conditions which afflicted the infancy of the country
immediately tributary to the main line of the C.P.R.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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