OF FUEL AND FEAR 245 



and throughout the winter when he was at home 

 he often came across to see how I fared, and his 

 man came through on several occasions and always 

 insisted on doing something or bringing something ; 

 but that year the snow was very deep, and it took 

 nearly an hour instead of the usual twenty minutes, 

 to walk from the shack to my cottage. 



As the cold grew stronger I found that my most 

 difficult chore was in getting hay from the rick 

 built Canadian fashion. The snow packs the hay 

 tightly, and the frost freezes the snow into a kind 

 of invincible thatching. If one can get it off in 

 sheets hay-feeding is comparatively easy, but to 

 pack the mangers tightly full for the night makes a 

 great demand on time and energy. When the 

 weather was kind I rather enjoyed it, but when a 

 wind raged or the mercury dropped badly below 

 zero, one had to draw on the outside notes of 

 patience and endurance. 



Quite the pleasantest duty of the day was the 

 8 P.M. feed of oats. To begin with it was usually 

 preceded with two hours reading by the pleasant 

 warmth of the stove, and one can nearly always 

 arrive at the " heights of one's own heart " via 

 the ladder and lamplight of another's. Afterwards 

 I climbed the rickety ladder which led to the big 

 store of oat-sheaves on the stable roof and from 

 that point I dropped them all overboard, and then 

 descended to distribute this favourite form of 

 feed among my four-footed family. The cattle 

 seldom used their stable, and I always tried to en- 

 courage a love of liberty ; but they had no honour 

 about seizing on the oat -sheaves as they fell from the 

 roof, and sometimes the evening feed was performed 



