This blog continues with the story I started yesterday about my grandmother, who at the age of 21 set out on her own, to homestead in the prairie of Montana.
It was a lot of fun to fix up my cabin. I stenciled curtains for the windows, and made bookcases and cupboards out of the wooden boxes and creates that my good were shipped in. It was my first, very own home and with 320 acres of land which would be mine someday — I was happy. I could go to bed when I pleased and get up when I pleased (something I could never do at home).
My first school was near Floweree. I boarded with Mr. and Mrs. Trackwell, who had a daughter named Rosemary. They were a fine Christian family and welcomed me into their home. My school room was a cabin that belonged to a young man who turned it over for a school during his absence. I had students from many different states which made the job very interesting.
Usually I would go over to my cabin on Friday nights and spend the whole weekend. One Sunday I had been promised a ride back to my boarding place but the ride did not materialize. About four o’clock I began to get worried and decided to walk. My boarding place was about eight miles from my homestead. When I reached Carter, the lady at the hotel told me if I would take a certain path it would cut off a few miles, so I decided to do that because it was getting late.
It was early October and I was dressed warm. I carried a hand bag with with a week’s supply of of clean clothing. I never did find the path, since it had long grown over. I stopped and looked in all directions. There was nothing in sight, not even a cabin. I had never seen this part of the country before. Suddenly it dawned on me that I was lost and almost as suddenly it was dark.
I just just kept going in the direction I thought was right. It seemed as if I was climbing up, then down. I would run into a herd of range cattle, and they would scamper off. They were more afraid of me than I was of them. I could hear coyotes howling and I had no desire to spend the night on the prairie.
I tried to follow a light, but it would disappear. Finally after walking and running for five hours, the light suddenly loomed up in front of me, and I saw a house. Through the window I could see children playing. I thought I was in Great Falls, it seemed as if I had walked that far. I rapped on the door and when they opened it, I staggered in, exhausted.
They removed my clothing which was soaked with perspiration and put me to bed. This was the Ainley family. Mr. Ainley was the grocer in Floweree. The next morning Mrs. Ainley drove me to school. This was the most harrowing experience that I had during my homestead years. I learned one lesson—never again to take a short cut that I know nothing about. I had wandered thought what was known as the Big Black Coulee. There were deep ravines and holes I could have fallen into and no one would have known what had happened to me.
You can view my paintings at: davidmarchant2.ca
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