The Icelandic Canadian - 01.12.1959, Page 20

18
THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
Winter 1959
On the late afternoon of the eighth
day we passed through the town of
Gladstone and halted half a mile to
the east. The weary animals all lay
down, and, the men also. We were
all glad of the opportunity to stretch
out on the ground in the warmth of
the slanting rays of the afternoon sun.
The railroad stretched to the south-
east, as far as one could see.
After an hour’s rest we continued on
our way for about two miles, then turn-
ed left where the trail led in a north-
easterly direction, until we reached the
White Mud River, where we camped
for the night. The river was low and
when we started in the morning we
had no difficulty in crossing.
The trail led eastward, across a wide
bleak prairie, followed by heavy brush
land and a rather rugged terrain.
We then became aware of a team of
horses and a wagon coming up behind
us at a steady trot. The driver turned
out to be Fred Hill, whose home was
in the Lakeside settlement. We had
eight or ten miles to go to the Hender-
son ranch, he said. He also told us that
my father had already built a good-
sized log cabin on his new farm. Fred
Hill seemed sociable and friendly and
expressed his pleasure at our moving
in.
We continued our slow march and
by mid-afternoon we reached our
destination, the end of a nine day
journey and a two-hundred mile trek.
Father was busy shaping logs for a
barn, ibut he hurried to meet ut, and
soon we were sitting down to a good
nourishing meal, and good Icelandic
coffee.
It was a happy gathering The three
men kept up a running conversation
that seemed endless, talking about
pioneering experiences. Maris and 1
soon left the others and took a good
look at the surrounding country. There
was a level stretch of low-lying meadow
to the east, reaching to the shore of
Lake Manitoba, less than a mile away.
This was journey’s end.
WIMTBIL)
Winter, a grim and surly patriarch,
Stern-visaged in his flowing beard of white,
Now brings to halt the labors of the year,
Arresting all alike that each may sleep
In hibernation or at slackened pace —
To gather strength and store up energy
For yet another lap of distance run.
He takes to spouse the daughter of the sun,
Big-bosomed Lady Summer whose “I do"
Ensures them progeny to nurse and rear —
The principle of Life in endless round.
Sternly regnant in his frigid way
He rules and disciplines with even hand
Till all are justly, properly amerced.
—Bogi Bjarnason