The Icelandic Canadian - 01.06.1973, Blaðsíða 34

32
THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
SUMMER 1973
was no choice but to work and skimp
to keep body and soul together.
The only plentiful commodity was
firewood. The forest was dense and
tall all the way to the lake’s edge. It
had to be cut and cleared before one
could plant potatoes, let alone think
about growing grain. Where there
was no dense forest, there were sloughs
and bogs that had to be drained.
Now Ingolfur marvelled at the fool-
hardiness and courage his wife, Thor-
dis, and he had manifested when
they settled there. Had he suspected
half of the difficulties that awaited
them, he doubted 'that they would
have dared establish a farm there.
And still — there was not much to
pick from in those days, they did not
have a choice. In the north-western
part of the country was a virgin forest
and uninhabited prairie, but the im-
migrants had settled in small groups
here and there. Ingolfur thought grate-
fully about his neighbors; 'they help-
ed each other in respect to work and
necessities of life. Their generosity to
each other was just as great as their
poverty. He had often looked over
the district and marvelled how much
those people had achieved with their
bare hands. Most of them had passed
away or moved; those who had settled
and broken the land were now for-
gotten — others had replaced them
and now reaped the fruits.
Yes, it was beautiful and prosperous
in Vik nowadays. Ingdlfur looked at
his hands, knotted and gnarled from
grind and toil. He himself had indeed
been victorious in his dealings with
poverty, singlehanded farming, and all
the difficulties only the pioneer
knows, but that was all. He had lost
everything else.
Thordis, his wife, died young, a
little over thirty years of age. She
developed consumption from poor
living conditions. And what proved
fatal to her was losing the children,
one after another, for lack of nursing
and medical care.
Vik had been costly; and what had
he gained? Lost to him also was Ragn-
hildur, 'the apple of his eye, on whom
he had built all his hopes. He felt
that some of the blame rested on him-
self. If he had kept her at home with
him and not thought about educating
her, his dream would have come true
and she would have stayed with her
inheritance.
It was in the city that she had first
become acquainted with this future
husband of hers. Then when her
studies were finished and she had
come home, there was no let-up on
the flow of visitors from Winnipeg.
Every weekend the house was full of
young people, Icelandic and English,
that came to visit Ragnhildur and for
a rest in the country over the week-
ends. And the group was seldom with-
out the doctor. To be sure Ingolfur
had found the rest these young people
sought somewhat strange. There
were car trips back and forth in the
district, boating and sailing on the
lake, baseball and then dancing and
singing until morning. He noticed
that Ragnhildur amused herself well,
and he was happy for her because
there had not been much recreation
at Vik while she was growing up.
Ingolfur had watched her with
amazement among this group of
strangers; sometimes he found her
strange too. His little girl, the farmer’s
daughter, brought up by him in
isolation and practically in a wilder-
ness — she not only held her own, but
rather excelled in beauty, intelligence,
and graciousness. And he was deeply
happy and grateful that such a daugh-
ter could be his.