264 WHEAT AND WOMAN 



and helped me do my evening chores. They pro- 

 nounced the horses to be looking just splendid, and 

 really they were a jolly group. Jim and Tommy 

 looked so huge and powerful in their big coats, 

 which were starting to come off by yards with the 

 curry-comb ; and Ricky who, in spite of his love 

 of wild gallops with the jolly bands of old and young 

 horses who at that time spent the winter in the 

 unrestricted freedom of the prairie, always seemed 

 glad to get home again, and who thrust his soft nose 

 in one's hand and left the well a little laggingly in 

 the trail of the others — just enough to convey a 

 tiny consoling impression of regret that one couldn't 

 come too. Nancy was looking brilliant and younger 

 than ever. She always led the band, and her dainty, 

 elastic movement seemed in friendliest contrast to 

 the slow, deHberate intention of the huge cart- 

 horses to follow in her wake. 



Quite early in March I drove into the Fort to 

 see the Macdougalls, and for the first time I was 

 aware of the effect of the solitude of the winter. 

 My voice seemed deep and strange, but it was 

 delightful to be with one's friends again. Later in 

 the month I drove back to Fort Qu'Appelle with 

 my brother on his way to his homestead, and went 

 into church for morning service, then walked across 

 the lake and lunched at Crow's Nest, and back to 

 tea at the Mound. I had to leave early because of 

 my evening chores, so Mrs. Macdougall walked back 

 with me as far as John McLeay's gate. But, 

 pleasant as were such days as this, my diary throws 

 a light on the sharp and constant contrast of the 

 weather in that altogether exceptional year of 

 1907: 



