HARVEST OF MY FIRST SEEDING 229 



Jack Douglas coming to look for my remains in great 

 distress. Nancy had arrived quite safely, but the 

 empty buggy had aroused his anxiety. Nothing 

 can ever cancel my debt to Roddy McMahon for 

 having bestowed upon me the gift of independence 

 through his own hatred of chores, but I was not the 

 less grateful for the attention and consideration of 

 the British newcomer. 



When ploughing was over, I started to look for 

 winter fuel. On the adjoining section which at 

 that time was virgin prairie, and the property of 

 the C.P.R., there was any amount of green poplar, 

 but very little dry wood, but my neighbour, Richard 

 Ryan, was a first-rate fuel man and he most kindly 

 suggested that Jack Douglas should work with him 

 in the bluffs. 



Meantime I started out myself with Dick and the 

 stone-boat to clean my favourite bluff in the 

 pasture of many loads of young and very dry poplar, 

 which had been killed through the passing of 

 prairie fires, and which had, beyond all other fuel, 

 the power of producing immediate and intense heat. 

 Provided with this, one can prepare breakfast in 

 fifteen minutes, and on a forty below zero morning 

 the kitchen will be glowingly hot in ten. 



Two gloriously happy days I spent in the heart 

 of this bluff dragging out contributions to the 

 various piles which Dick hauled home on the stone- 

 boat. He was absolutely happy, nosing round for the 

 choice scraps of pasture outside the bluff, whilst I 

 worked within, and no other horse could have taken 

 home the load quite so cleanly, or so cleverly have 

 avoided the snares which beset his path. 



But after noon had passed on the second day 



